pitting. ( 'His TREASURES 0F THOUG HT. If thou hast thrown a glorious thought. Upon life's common ways, Shodld other men the gain have caught, Fret riot f0 lose the praise. Great thinker. often thou shalt ï¬nd, While folly plttnders fame, To thy rich store the crowd is blind, Nor knd’ws thy very name. What matters that, if thou uncoil eke. ALEX. SCOTT, Proprietor. The soul that God has given, Not in the world’s meai‘i’ eye to tell, But in the sight of Heaven 7 If thou art true, yet in thee lurks For fame and human sigh ; To nature go, and see how works That handmaid of the sky. Her OWn deep bounty she forgets Is full of germs and seeds. Nor gloriï¬es herself, nor sets Her flowers above her weeds. She hides the modest leaves between, She loves untrodden roads ; Her richest treasures are not seen By any eye but God’s. Accept the lesson. Look not for Reward , from out thee chase All selï¬sh ends, and ask no more Than to fulfil thy place. W Thddivilized and the Savage. AN INCIDENT IN CALIFORNIA. ._.___ Two mcn,-mounted on vigorous horses, were Crossing the desert plains which extend from the north of the encampment of Saint Thomas (west of the island ofSan Francisco) Some baggage, enveloped in coarse wrappers, was affixed to the crop- pers of the horses by means of long leathern straps; to the saddle-bow were suspended a mattock, a lever, a d a sieve. The cavaiicrs each jore at his girdle a naked sword, and at least a brace of pistols.â€" They were two gold-seekersâ€"an Englishman an a Peruvian. The Peruvian, a child of chance and for- tune: the Englishman, a scion of one of the most ancient families of Great Britain. These two men, so different in their origin and their education,had met at San Francisco, and a similar need of gold had united them in the same enterprise. The Peruvian. of an already ad- vanced age, was thick-set, choleric, and robust. His ignoble counten- ance bore the imprint of brutal and violent passions. The Englishman, young, light, and slender, had a face faded by European excesses. still noble features were strongly marked, and his fair hair had become thin at the top of his head. Lord B. had rapidly squan- dered on the continent a consider- able fortune. Pleasures, of which he was weary, but which neverthe- less were become by his life a ne- (essary habit to him, were about to fail him; he had tried play as a re- sourceâ€"play had proch fatal to him. He emigrated to America, and associated himself with the Pcr- uvian, Montis, to go in search of gold. Day was closing, when the two gold-seekers saw delineated in the horizon, at the lowest part of the red and inflamed heavens, dark forms which were coming towards them. They put themselves on the defensive; and, after some minutes of anxiety, they discovered that it “was an Indian family, who were marching towards the east. Three men, their heads tattooed with blue, bore on their shoulders two chests of cabo-wood, carved, and striped with glaring colours. Be- hind them came a woman, who held by the hand a child, entirely naked, and carried another still younger, secured to her bosom by an osicr girdle, When they were within hearing, Lord B. hailed them. ‘ At What distance are the moun- tains 'l’ demanded Lord B. ‘At a half-day’s march,’ replied one of the Indians, in pretty good ’English ; ' but the sun will soon set, and you had better wait till it shall rise again, to continue your way.â€" We ourselves, who have borne the heat of the day. are fatigued, and if you like, we will encamp to- gether.’ ‘ Willingly,’ said the Englishman, Vol. III. N0. 33; ï¬reâ€"water of our brothers of the Union. Well, we have all been obliged to fly before the cunning of those tribes who make the poor In- dians werk, and cheat them in the weights of the gold. But you,\vho appear the friends of the Great Spi- rit, you will be protected by him in the land of gold, as you will protect to-night, with your powerful wea- pons, the weak ones who now offer you the half of their day’s huntmg.’ Lord B. refused the provisions of the Indians, and drew from his bag- gagc a handful of baked rice-flour, which he silently shared with the Peruvian. The latter, during the whole time that the old man was speaking, had never taken his eyes off the chests. He replied, ‘You have spoken wisely, my father.--â€" This night we will watch over you; for we know that in so acting we shall do that which is pleasing to the Great Spirit.’ They smoked, according to cus- tom ;.tlicy lit a ï¬re ; then the large canvass cloths were unrolled, and the Indians laid themselves beneath them, whilst the gold-seekers wrap- ped themselves in their thick narcnâ€" das (Spanish cloaks.) Two hours passed. The Indians were sleeping.â€" T'ne Peruvian, who was keeping watch, approached Lord B. ‘My lord,’ said he, in a low voice, ‘if RICHMOND HILL, FRIDAY, JULY 19, [861. tered not a groan, nor a sigh ; his head fell helplessly upon the soil.â€" The Great Wolf wept in his sleep, and uttered stifled Sighs. Montis raised a corner of the tent, and drew out the two chests with inï¬nite trouble and precaution. At the same time, he made a sign to the Englishman to disencumber the hOlseS of all useless weight. Then they placed a chest upon each horse, fastened them securely with their leather straps, and set out at full gallop. At the end of some minutes, they heard the heartâ€"rcnding cries of the Indians; and by the ruddy flame of the ï¬re, they saw the un- fortunate family, who rolled in de- spair upon the sand, breaking out in threats, useless imprecations, and mad yells of grief. The day was dawning when Lord B. and his companion arrived in sight of the encampment of Saint Thomas. They alighted, and un- loaded the chests. Lord B. was uneasy, Montis gay and good-humoured. ‘Therc, my lord,’ said he, ‘we shall have to make an inventory of our fortune. The difï¬culty will be to weigh it, so as to share it equally, for we are without scales; but we can buy passable ones with plenty of money.’ Thus saying, he cut asunder With your lordship is disposed, our expc- his sword the ligatures which se- dition may end here. You have. cured the chests. When the lids of course, noticed the chests that were ready to be opened, he stepped these Indians carry. They containl certainly more gold than you and l, strangers to this trade, could col- lect in six months; there remains, then, for us nothing more, my lord, but to thank Providence and the Holy Virgin for this good op. portunity.’ ‘What, Scnhor Montis,’ said Lord B., ‘do you propose a rob- bery to me 1’ ‘ Heretic" murmured Montis.â€"-â€" ‘ Oh, no, my lord,’ added he, aloud, ‘it is merely a forced loan, as you say in Europe ; besides, by leaving these good people our Working im- plements, Much, as you know, are invaluable in these latitudes, we shall almost compensate them for the time we shall cause them to lose. Cons‘der, that if they have amassed such treasures with their hands alone, aided by mattocks and sieves. which my conscience makes it a duty to leave them, they will soon collect triple what they are now carrying away. They will even be the gainers by this ex- change. must think of ourselves; short, and gold doubles it. you live'l Yes or no 'l’ Lord B. turned slowly and si- lently round, and uttered this single sentence, ‘ Be it so, then.’ Montis glided beneath the can- vas; the old man, the woman, and the children were asleep. The Great Wolf breathed heavily; he Was agitated by a painful dream; but Serpent’s Eye, lying at the ex~ tremity of the tent, kept his legs and body extended over the two chests. At the slight noise made by Montis, he raised his head. Montis stopped. ‘Brother,’ said he, in a tone so low that his Voice resembled the fluttering of a leaf which a light wind drives be- fore it, ‘tlie night is cold outside‘ life is Will In short, my lord, we. the tentâ€"I come to ask of thee a place at thv side.’ And Montis made a step forward. The Indian raised himself upon his elbow, and regarded Montis with eyes that pierced the shadows,’ Thou knowcst that hospitality is due to thee from usâ€"thou mayest enter freely.’ Montis approached nearer. ‘But,’ continued the Indian, dis- engaging his right hand from the who alighted, together with his companion; They thrust their levers into the soil, and made their steeds fast to them. ‘You are going into the gold country?’ said the elder of the Inâ€" dians, shaking his head. ‘ Ah i you ' Will find many others there besides our good brothers of the Union fin- habitants of the United States )â€" Until now, we have lived happily, but greedy tribes came, and we were compelled to quit the land of our fathers ;. vet here is my brother, the Great Wolf, who is a man for4 midable in war;- here is my other brother, Serpent’s Eye, who is mild, and who knows so much of the secrets of nature, that he has caused peace to spring up among the warriors ;~ here is my wife, Kelida, who has words sweet as honey, wise, and penetrating as the ml precismn' folds of the canvass in which he Was enveloped, ‘thou occupiest now a place favourable for sleep; why dost thou still approach I’ Montis seemed to pay heed to this observation. He stretched him- self on the ground, inclining his head to the side of the chests; then he arched his back, folded his arms, and drew his knees up to his chest. The Great Wolf ceinplained aloud in his dream. Serpent’s Eye, uneasy at the ob- lique manoeuvre of the Peruvian, carried, without changing his atti- tude, his liberated right hand- to the" wood of a poisoned arrow which he drew from his girdle ;* but he had nvct withdrawn it from its quiver of skin, when the Peruvian seized him . by the arm with one hand, and with the other plunged his nauaja (pois- on-‘ed arrow) into his heart with fa- Se'rpent’s Eye ut- . back for a moment before them, clasped his hands with admiration, toolf ofi his hat to them, and kicked them with his foot with a brutal joy; butâ€"oh, surprise I oh. fury lâ€"'-â€" ihe chests contained only some dead men’s bones, the most part of which were crumbled into dust, a little earth, and some fragments of granite. Montis, driven to desperation, blasphemcd, raising his hand to- wards Heaven. they could get no more. As to grant- ing the certiï¬cate, they do it because to withhold it would be only an act of gratuitous unkindness. It would he preposterous to say that creditors relinquish their claims onluntarily; for who would give up his claim to twenty shillings on the receipt of ten, if he could get the other ten by refusing? It might as reasonably 'be said that a man parts with a limb voluntarily. because, having incur- ably laceratcd it, he submits to an amputation. It is to be remembered too, that the necessary relinquish- ment of half the demand is occa- sioned by the debtor himself: and it seems very manifest that-when a man by his own act, deprives another of his property, he- cannot allege the Consequences of that act as a justiï¬â€" cation of withholding it after resto- ration is in his power. The mode in which an insolvent man obtains a discharge, does not appear to affect his subsequent duties. Composttions, and bankruptcies, and discharges by an insolvent act, are in this respect alikc.~ The acceptâ€" ance of a part instead of the whole is not voluntary in either case; and neither case exempts the debtor from the obligation to pay in full if he can. If it should be urged that when a person en-trusts property to another, he knowingly undertakes the risk of that other’s insolvency, and that, if the contingent loss happens, he has no claims tojustice on the other, the answers is this: that whatever may be thought of these claims, they are not the grounds upon which the debtor is obliged to pay. The debt- or always engages to pay, and the engagement is enforced by morality: the engagement, therefore, is bind- ing, whatever risk another man may incur by relying upon it. The causes which have occasioned a person’s insolvency, although they greatly affect his character, do not affect his obligations; the duty to repay when I‘Old 3' approacned lhe Chess, he has power is the same, whether and knelt down. usually so impassive, had changed colour, and tears rolled down his cheeks. He remained some time thus. What was passing in the soul of the noble lord? Did he think of his 'cscutclicon of nobility that he had sullicd by a robbery? Did he think of that poor tribe of savages that emigrated, carrying piously the bones of its fathers, and a little of the earth of its native country, whilst he, the Eumpean. the civiliz- ed. the man of the world, the lord who had dissipated the fortune and honour of his family, came, while in search of gold, to steal the relics of these Indians, and profane their rites of sepulturcl We cannot say, but some days after, Lord B. set sail for the East Indies. Some months later, he fought at Moultan, beneath the English. In the last affair against the Sikhs, Lord B. met the death of a soldier. Wâ€â€" WHY IS A MAN OBLIGED TO PAY HIS DEBTSâ€! [The following Tract is taken. with some slight alterations and abridgement, from the Chapter on “ Property †in Dyrnond’s Essays on the Principles of Morality.] VVHY is a man obliged to pay his debtsl It is to be li0pcd that the morality of few persons is lax enough to replyâ€"Because the law compels him. But why, then, is be obliged to pay them? Because the Moral Law requires it. That this is the primary ground of the obligation is evident; otherwise the payment of any debt which a vicious or corrupt legislature resolved to conceal, would cease to be obligatory upon the debtor. A man becomes insolvent and is made a bankrupt; he pays his credi- and obtains his certiï¬cate. The law, therefore, discharges him from the obligation to pay more. The bank- rupt receives a large legacy, or he engages in business and acquires pro- perty. Being then able to pay the remainder of his debts, does the le- gal dischargc exempt hi obligation to pay them 'l for this reason, that the“ legal dis erty, H's coumemnce' the insolvency were occasioned by his fault or by Circumstances over which he had no control. In all cases, the reasoning that applies to the debt, applies also to the interest that accrues upon it; although, with respect to the acceptance of both, and especially of interest, a credi»! tor should exercise a considerate discretion. A man who has failed of paying his debts ought always to live with frugality, and carefully to economize such money as he gains. He should reflect but he is a trustee for his creditors, and that all the needless money which lie cxpends is not his, but theirs. The amount of property which the trading part of a commercial na- tion loses by insolvency, is great enough to constitute a considerable national evil. The fraud, too, that is practiced under cover of insolven- cy, is doubtless the most extensive of all species of private robbery. The profligacy ofsomc ofthese cases is well known to be extreme. He who is a bankrupt to-day, riots in the luxuries of afllueiicc to-morrow', bows to the creditors whose money he is spending; and exults in the suc- cess and the impunity of his wicked- ness. Of such conduct, we should not speak or think but with detesta. tioti. Happy, if such wickedness could not be practised with legal im- punity! Happy, if Public Opinion supplied the deficiency of the liw, and held the iniquity in rightful ab- horrcnce! Perhaps nothing would tend so eflicaciously to diminish the general evils of insolvency, as a sound state of public opinion respecting the obli- gation to pay our debts. vent who,with the means of paying, retains the money in his own pocket, is, and he should be regarded as being, a dishonest man. . the same character as theft, proba~ bly a more efï¬cient motive to avoid insolvency, in most cases, would be established than any which now exists; Who would not anxiously (and therefore, in a‘most cases, suc- cessfully) struggle against insolven- m from the av, when he knew that it would be No;- and followed, if not by permanent pov- lf it by permanent disgrace ? charge is not amoral discharge; that should be’ said that to act upon such as the duty to†pay at all was not a system; would overwhelm an insol- founded primarily on the law, the vent’ . law cannot warrant hirrriniwith'h-o‘lda a‘l in‘activny, ing a part. It is however said, that the credi- answer, tors have relinquished their right to impend, would be the remainder by signing the certifi- sive than may be imagined. cate. But why (lid they accept half calamity being foreseen, would pre- yheir demands instead of the whole? ven-‘t men from becoming insolvent; that’s just Jake’s height, and I feel all Because they Were obliged to‘ do it; and it is certain that the majority orerisl‘i-like, when I see him.†of the benefit of The insol- lf Public tors ten shillings instead of twenty, , Opinion hold such conduct to be of is energies; keep trim in pe‘rpetu-' and deprive his family his exertionsâ€"I that the evil, supposing it to much less exten- The W “ Let Sound Reason weigh more with us than. Popular Opinion.†W, TERMS: $1 so In Advance. _._-\_.. Whole iNo‘. ' 138. might have aVOidcd insolvency by A SHREWD' EDITOllé. sufficient care. Besides, if a man’s -â€" principles are such that he would rather sink into inactivity than exert himself in order to bejust, it is not necessary to mould public opinion to his character. The question too is, not whether some men would not prefer indolencc to the calls ofjusticc but whether the public should juuge accurately respecting what those calls are. The state, and especially a family, might lose occasionally by this reform of opinionâ€"and so they do by sending a man to prison or transporting him; but who would think this a good reason for setting criminals at large? And after all, much more would be gained by preâ€" venting insolvency, than lost by the ill consequences upon the few who failed to pay their debts. It is a cause of satisfaction that. respecting this rectified state of epi- Dion, and respecting integrity of pri- vate virtue. some examples are offer- ed. There is at least one commu- nity of Christians which holds its members obliged to pay their debts, whenever they possess the ability, without regard to the legal dis- charng By this means, there is thrown over the character of every bankrupt who possesses property, a shade which nothing but payment. can dispel. The effect (in conjunc- tion we may hope with private inte- grity of principle) is good~â€"good, both in instituting a new motive to avoid insolvency, and in inducing some of thosewho do become insol- vent; subsequently to pay all their debts. Of this latter effect, many honour- ablc instances might be given: two which have fallen under my observa- tion, I would briefly mentionâ€"A There are some persons who seem to think that editors regard it as one ofthe greatest intellectual luxuries to pitch into somebody, and they sup- pose themselves to have conferred a great favor by furnishing belligerent contributions, in which some person, corporation, or society is soundly abused. Such people may take a hint from the following : A noted chap of this sort once erublc and highly respected editor, and indulged in a tirade against a citizen with whom he was on bad terms. ‘I wish.’ said he. addressing the man of the pen, ‘ you would write a very severe article against R , and put it in your paper.’ The next morning he came rush- ing into the office in a state of violent excitement. ‘ What did you put in your paper? I have had my nose pulled, and been kicked twice.’ ‘I wrote a severe article, as you desired, and signed your name to dt,’ replied the editor calmly. MAKING Clover hay cut at the period of florcsccnce, and thoroughly made, has been found by repeated experi- ments, to lose about four-fifths of its weight in ‘mak’ing.’ When the HAY. l flower has fallen‘, ahd the stalks have lost some o‘fthc'ir m‘ois‘tu’reï¬h'e loss in drying is three-quarters of the weight of the Crop when cut; probably a fair average where the grass is in the state of advancement last indicated, and the labor of mak- . . ing is performed With a free expos- man had . ‘ '2 x ’ . . .v , . to his Prooertv iimonastthe’m and gave Pounds WI†be- redu-c-ed tQ-iwerâ€Â¥- .. ,i ,. ,5. H’ - . two. Clover, in all its Varieties, is mm a Lg" G’sc’d'ge' ,6 appeals a valuable pi‘odt‘i’ci, and one of the to have formed the resolution to pay beg, grasses for hm. if mixed- with the i'ei'nainder, if his OWn exertions the lane, kindq we'ï¬ave {or (mule ' i ' ' t . . T, . . . I .‘. (imbued hml’g dolll’q ï¬le P'Ol‘lfrecl It is sapid, highly nutritive in its i'r‘nl’ï¬â€™yfngné y IV “191’ lovleve’" properties, and agrees Well with all ii::,:x.,é’:,|.r.’:k.â€::,’de Egypmel‘tg Sit“; descriptions of animals. Its value, out); and “v’.d “Ur H ll] llâ€. “_' h‘O‘We‘Ver; for feeding purposes, de- T: 1,: A1 fl E".Â¥t.0’,e’gf‘lee." ponds, in an eminent degree, upon 37. ‘ub'v le “In†'on 0 “HS the method of curing it. Formerlv time he found he had accumulated I, was ,he Pram-me ,0 mow it in ,h'e enough to pay the remainder, and he sent the money to his creditors. and shim-mus ,0 pm hm mick, Th.e ‘Such a man, I think, might hope to next-day- i,°“:as Opened {urine}, two tlttt‘lVC, during the remainder of his 0,. “wee ,;mes pitched i’nm bunches ' a (i ' o \' ' t - ' . . l _ , ’ hf" sledlirxsalhlaCl'Ol‘ “0m the and ï¬nally, after all the foliage and conscrousness of integrity, than he seed had been detached. by ,he would have derived from expending ,rough handmm, to Which: i, was the money on himself. It should be ,houoht neoesszry ,0 subject it com itold that many of his creditors, when Wye?! ,0 ,he mows The logs up ul’gydheurd “1.0 Circumsta’mes’ dc'|tending this method was soon found L me .’0 receive ’hé.’ money" or v.0" to’ be a serious abstraction from the luntarily presented it to him again. prom of the crop “yhilbe the é-x . a I y ' r . , ' , . or to or “ t ‘ '.m‘0\vin‘g, was scarcely repaid by cmplary Vlllue, and the proffered Wha, remained ' ‘ money astonished him: he talked in Now Clove, is» cut, .,r§ Scorn as {He loud commendation of what to him - ’ . ~ . , ~ ’ - - was unheard-of lnlCO’t‘ltV' si med 'i'dew ls 0“; lIlOWCd-to remam m the recei )1 for me amoJ’m l .‘tlswath undisturbed by the fork or , l ’ M “an .l lrake till towards night, when, if the back asapresentto the debtor. The weather is Clear 0,. not, i, is. mfg other instance may furnish hints ofa funv turned in order (In, a 'er ï¬sllsllekxtt hag ‘CSSIC 0‘ a surface may be exposed to the night 1 , J“. b, , ‘ u r we, 0,5â€? dews,and the next afternoon pitched Pf†’L’Sl’ 3' H“ P‘(.)“SO asuol)‘ into grass cocks, eaCh Weiohi‘ng She however became insolvent, paid abou, "0,01,. , ounds fl,- “yhitcpb ‘ t some dividend and recciv d d". . . .b. 'l p ’ .‘ con‘ ‘ ’ . C a .“5 dition it is suffered to remain' until charge. She again entered into sufï¬piemlv drv ,0 goimo MOW; busn‘iess, and in the course of years H“, made m' ,hls 'Way pdsges’ges » l s a a a ) a ( ' , ’ k llj‘igmg‘:“(gyl‘h‘llf‘fffï¬h lOBlmy l?“ the deep, rich green of the natural . C b 9’ “l l’C . plant before being cut,and that sweet infirmities of age were now coming'ammalic Odor so grateful to ever on,,and the annual income from hot perm“ capable of appreci-31hy savmgs was just sufï¬cient for the swee, smells We have 56;,“ wants of declining years. Beinu ’ .- - - ' thus at resent unable to dISCIl‘ll‘J‘r: mow-3r heads 3-5 pug!“ m m’d‘wm. , , .p . . , . ‘ uh“ ter, in hay made in this manner, as ’e’ Obhga’lons w’ulnm sul’lef"!“g they were the moment they fellbe- . . . ‘ ‘ scythe and for auoht we co l ’ - - Will, directing that at her death the ' ’ D u d per creditors should be paid the remain- i All kinds of grass made in this der of their demand‘: - ‘ n x - r i , r ° an" Wllwsm way. Is unquestionably much‘ im-"' died the'wr " . . ,. . i .‘I e ‘3 l’dld aCCO’dmgly' proved in quality ; it also loses less ’ “Where any have injured others in their by mititiy pounds m‘ a hu’ndretl‘Wh‘ile property,the greatest fru;-a|ityshould be observ- the expense is diminished “93;.†0,. ed by themselves and thei“ families: and al- . . . , , though they may have alegal discharge from @0116 one'ï¬flh-â€"Cor- Ger- Tele’ their creditors, both equity and our Christian graph,- profession demand that none, when they hare it in their power, should rest satisï¬ed utitil ajust restitution be made to those who have suffered by them.†“ And it is the judgment of this meeting, that: ‘zn‘o'rrtlily and other meetings ought not to receive collec'ti’Orrs or bequests for the use of the poor.- or any o‘tlrer services of the Society. of persons who have fallen short in the payment of their just debts, tliiough‘ legally discharged by their creditors: for until such persons have paid the deï¬ciency, their possessions Cannot in equity be considered as their own.†. Ofï¬cial Documents of the Yearly Meeting of the Society of Friends. ‘ At a reCent bazaar a young gentleman lingered for some time at one of the stalls, which was attended by a very handsome young lady-“ The charge of your in- spection of my wares,†said the fair d'ea'l'ér, "‘ is half a crown, sir.†I“ I was“ admiring replied the gallant. “ That’s fi‘ve shillings, responsed the lady With great readiness; and no demand, perhaps, vita‘s‘ ever more ‘ch'eerfu'lly complied with.†“Jeannie,†said a venerable Cam‘erOnian to his daughter, who was asking his con- sent to accompany her urgent and favored suitor to the alter, “ Jeannie, it is a very solemn thing to get married.†“1 know it father,†replied the sensible damsel ;: but it is agreat d’e‘a-l solemnet‘ not to.†“Are you in love Maria ’1†“Yes, mother.†“ How much?†“ Well, I don’t know exactly, but I should think about ï¬ve feet eight inches, or thereabouts, for _ “.1â€. .. . . ..,..._.....,_.,.. v . 1v~.â€",....:.... ....,~,... on,» s W, '5. N stepped into the sanctum of a van-3 ‘ ’ moderately: morning. and after repeated tu‘rnin‘gs ' ceive to the contrary, as‘fra‘gran‘t.’ ' your beauty ma’am‘, and not your goods,†= . FEEDING THEIEARM HORSE. W. G. Ca‘m‘pbell, ofGarr'ard count ty,‘ Ky.', in the Louisville Journaf makes the following observations on ‘the. feeding of farm ho'r'sesé In‘ ascertaining the most eco'iiomi-i cal rubric of feeding the farm horse, we writ premise that that food which" is procured with the smallest amount of labor and capital, and’ adds most to the strength, health and condition‘ of the horse is themest economical: If the horse be kept in actual service and labor, cut oats and corn in the cob, with hay, co’nstit’o‘tes‘ Cheap; healthy, and strengthening food, and [ have no doubt is†the most econo- mical method of feeding ordinarily. Oats should always be cut u‘pâ€"cut' for the horse to the band, an‘d you‘ will leave a portion in ï¬ne Condition to be fed to cattle. Three bundlcs‘ thus cut constitute a goo’d feed, with eight ears of corn and hay; and if hay is not convenient by letting the horse run out at night and pick grass, or such rough fodder as is fed to‘ cattle, he will keep in ï¬ne flesh’ and extra condition. The low price of horse feed“ Would; not" pay for labor bestoWed upon it unless if be in time of great scarcity of food. The food†of horses, ho’tVeVer; should be" varied, so†as to prevent clo’ying, but cats are’ eXtrem‘ely agreeable to the horse, and he rarely cloys upon" them. Cut straw or oats‘. wheat of rye", made 'wet, and rye meal mixed with it by pouring in’ the m‘ea‘l and constantly stirring the straw, makes a fine feed as an alterative, but should not be fed freely to any breeding a‘ni‘m'al.‘ Such feed acts finely upon the bowels‘ and skin, and may be used to advan-’ tage in all cases ofcostivcness. But one of the most palatable and heal; thy feeds for the horses, especially if he be failing in his appetite, is a' small quantity of shelled o‘ats, say a quart for a horse in, delicate health, or a gallon for a horse inclined to costive habits, placed in a pail, with warm water poured over them, (.or itmay be boiling)" and suffered fo’ stand and absorb the water, and give . when cool. Take care to pour only so much wat'cras to Wet the cats Amy horse that will eat at all Will eat it. Its action upon th’e' b'o‘t‘vels Will be fine, which will be told by the sleek and healthy ape" p‘ea‘ra‘nce of the hair. â€"â€"__. SALT, AND ITS OFFICES.- S‘o'm'e‘ modern agricultural writers“ have doubted the necessity of giving lanimals‘ salt. The following remarks as to the effect: of Salt upon health, by Professor Johnston. may be re. lish‘ed‘ by those who still put salt fit their Quin puddings, and allow their cattle now and then :â€" Tlic wild buffalo freqlu'e't'rfs fhe'salt lakes of No’rtl‘i’wes'teri‘i’America; the wild animals of the central parts of South Afri‘Ca are a‘ sure prey to the‘ hunter Who co'n‘ceals‘ hi‘ms‘elf behind a salt spring; and our domestic cat- itle run peacefully to the hand that offers the'ma taste of this delicious“ luxury. From time im‘memorial, it has been known that, without salt, man would miserably perish: and among horrible punishments, entail-‘ ing certain death; that o‘fte‘eding culprits on s'altles‘s food is said to have prevailed in b'arbaroius'timc's'. Mag- gots and corruption are spoken off by ancient writers as the distressing symptoms Which s'altless food engeni dcrs; but no ancient or u‘nchemical‘ inio‘dern could explain how such suf- ' feri'n‘g’s‘ arose. Now we know why the animal craves saltâ€"4wliy it suf-’ fers discomfort, and why it ultima-’ tely falls into’ disease if salt is for a time Witheld. Upw'a'rds of half the saline matter of the blood (57 per cent)" consists of common Salt, and as this is partially discharged every day through the skin and the‘ kidneys, the. n'eCessity or co‘n’tinUed supplies 'of it to" the healthy body becomes sufï¬ciently obvious. The bile also’ contains soda as a special and in'disz p'ch'sa'blc' constituent. S'tint the s’up4 ply or salt,“ therefore; and I n‘e‘i’ther will the bile be able properly to as; sist the digestion, no'r allow the car-‘ til-ages to be built up again‘ as fast as‘ they naturally waste. DuiGUTH'aRis AND THE Pancsmjoit. Dr. Guthrie delivered an address in be?- macl’colm’ Free Church lately, in the course of which he told the following anec- dote'.‘ " I r’é'ir’i‘c'n‘i‘bcr’once being able to re; 3 keys 3' i‘i‘i‘u‘sicia‘n. It was the first occasion :I had to speak in Edinburgh, and it Was in“ . St. George’s Church. Well, I sent to’ St. George’s, and at the ï¬rst psatm‘ the precentor stuck. I knew by that he Was out of time. [A laugh]. He tried again and3 stuck [laughter]: he tried: a third time and stuck again. Well, you' must know .: had not only to preach a serm'on, but make a collection, and I thought that if we went; on at this rate we would never get the’ ’m‘on‘ey, so I said ‘L’et us may? By the itim’e the p‘i‘trj’cr wa‘s over, the pre‘centor = had recovered his powers, and we made a icolle'c’ti’c'in‘ of £100. Well, after I had" gone into the vestry and d’isrobed, the pre- centor came up to me and said: ‘ I was" greatly obliged to you to-d‘ay, Mr. Guthrie, to which I replied: ‘ My friend. I did more for' you than you‘conld have done for ‘me. Only fancy if I had stuck, how would it have done for you to get up and said,- ‘ Let us sing.†[Roars Of laughter]