Part 6

The following method of practice and recipe for the care of the prevailing disease among horses, called _sore mouth_, was obtained from Mr. Tomlinson, (one of the proprietors of the Western Mail Stages) on his return from visiting the sick horses in the line, and I am authorized to say, will, if strictly attended to, succeed in curing in 99 _cases in_ 100--by inserting it you will oblige MANY.

RECIPE.

On the commencement of the disease, bleed moderately. If the blood, after cooling, appears to have much buff on it, repeat the bleeding; give a pint of castor oil; if it does not operate in 16 hours, give two thirds of a pint. Nitre may be given at the rate of 2 _oz_. a day, or salts two or three times a week; 1/4 _lb._ at a time. These may be given in a thin mash, or rather slop of bran, it being the best food for the animal while diseased.

Take half a pint of honey, one table spoonful of borax, and one quart of strong sage tea. Mix them well together; then take a stick and tie a soft rag to the end of it, dip it in the mixture, and wash the tongue, gums and mouth well; the more frequent the better, at least every two hours. Sweet milk in the tea will do no harm, or a little nitre may occasionally be put in it with good effect. Be particular in keeping the mouth clean and nursing the horse with care.

The pulse and appearance of the blood must govern as to the necessity of bleeding more than once.

_The Arabian Horse_.

This noble animal, which lately arrived in the ship Horatio, has been sold for _four thousand dollars_, to Messrs. Allison and Van Ranst, and has been conveyed to Long Island.

_Wild Horse of the West._

The horse of the Columbia River will rank with the finest of his species in the known world. His size is fifteen or sixteen hands, even in a state of nature, unprovided with food or shelter by the hands of man. His form exhibits much bone and muscle, but not the mass of flesh which is found on the fat European horse.--His limbs are clean and slender; the neck arched and rising; the hoofs round and hard; and the nostrils wide and thin. He is equally distinguished for speed and bottom. He runs rapidly, and for a long time; rivalling, in this respect, all that we have heard of the English hunting horses. In other respects--in the docility of his nature, in his capacity to sustain hunger and hardship, in his powers to provide food for himself and his master, he is wholly unrivalled. He is readily trained to the business of his master's life, that of hunting, and pursues the game with all the keenness of the dog, and with equal sagacity and more success. He will run down the deer in the _prairies_, with or without his master on his back, and, when overtaken, will hold it with his teeth. When rode after game he needs no guiding of the bridle to direct him. He will pursue a drove of buffaloes, and, coming up with them, will stop one by biting him with his teeth. The animal bitten, immediately wheels to defend himself with his horns; the horse wheels at the same instant to avoid it; and at this moment, when the side of the buffalo is presented, the Indian lets fly an arrow, which often passes entirely through his body. The wounded animal always turns out of the drove to lay down and die. The horse and his rider pursue the gang to make fresh slaughter. Another horse trained to a second part of the game, with other Indians, take the trail of the wounded buffalo, which is butchered and carried into camp. These things seem incredibel; but we have them upon the authority of Lewis and Clarke, and a great number of traders who have been upon the Columbia river since the time of their discovery; some of whom are now in this town.

The capacity of this horse to sustain fatigue, and to provide food for himself, is equally astonishing. He is galloped all day, sometimes 80 or 90 miles in the space of 10 or 12 hours, and is then left to shift for himself during the night. In the spring, summer and autumn, he finds no difficulty; the short and sweet grass of that country gives him an abundant and nutricious repast. In the winter, and towards the mountains, where the snow is several feet deep, his unerring instinct tells him where to search; he scrapes away the snow with his hoof till he comes to the ground, and rooting there with his nose, finds wherewith of moss and grass to sustain his life. On the borders of creeks and rivers he feeds on the boughs of willows, and other soft wood, which his master has sometimes the kindness to fell for him with a hatchet.

This fine animal is found on the banks of the Columbia, in latitude 46, in the great plain which lies on the borders of this river, between the upper and lower range of mountains. His origin is traced to Mexico, thence to Spain, thence to the North of Africa, where the Arabian barb is found in all the perfection of his species. His fine form, his generous spirit, and his noble qualities, are preserved upon the Columbia river; and certainly it is worthy the experiment to endeavour to transplant him into other parts of the United States. Many citizens have attempted to do so; but have always been robbed by the Indians of the Rocky Mountains. Lewis and Clarke procured 73, said by Gov. Clark to be the most beautiful collection of horses that he has ever seen together before or since; but the whole number was stolen from them by Indians, who followed their trail, and never ceased their operations until they had carried off the last.

[_St. Louis Inquirer._

JAMES WATT.

(Ascribed to an eminent writer.)

Death is still busy in our high places; and it is with great pain that we find ourselves called upon, so soon after the loss of Mr. Playfair, to record the decease of another of our illustrious countrymen, and one to whom mankind has been still more largely indebted. Mr. James Watt, the great improver of the steam-engine, died on the 25th ult. at his seat of Heathfield, near Birmingham, in the 84th year of his age.

This name, fortunately, needs no commemoration of ours; for he that bore it survived to see it crowned with undisputable and unenvied honours; and many generations will probably pass away before it shall have "gathered all its fame." We have said that Mr. Watt was the great _improver_ of the steam-engine; but, in truth, as to all that is admirable in its structure, or vast in its utility, he should rather be described as its _inventor_. It was by his inventions that its action was so regulated as to make it capable of being applied to the finest and most delicate manufactures, and its power so increased as to set weight and solidity at defiance. By his admirable contrivances, it has become a thing stupendous alike for its force and its flexibility; for the prodigious power which it can exert, and the ease and precision, and ductility, with which they can be varied, distributed, and applied. The trunk of an elephant that can pick up a pin or rend an oak is nothing to it. It can engrave a seal, and crush masses of obdurate metal like wax before it, draw out, without breaking, a thread as fine as a gossamer, and lift up a ship of war like a bauble in the air. It can embroider muslin and forge anchors, cut steel into ribbands, and impel loaded vessels against the fury of the winds and waves.

It would be difficult to estimate the value of the benefits which these inventions have conferred upon the country. There is no branch of industry that has not been indebted to them; and in all the most material, they have not only widened most magnificently the field of its exertions, but multiplied a thousand fold the amount of its productions. It is our improved steam-engine which now enables us to pay the interest of our debt, and to maintain the arduous struggle in which we are still engaged, with the skill and capital of countries less oppressed with taxation. But these are poor and narrow views of its importance. It has increased indefinitely the mass of human comforts and enjoyments, and rendered cheap and accessible all over the world the materials of wealth and prosperity. It has armed the feeble hand of man, in short, with a power to which no limits can be assigned, completed the dominion of mind over the most refractory qualities of matter, and laid a sure foundation for all those future miracles of mechanic power, which are to aid and reward the labours of after generations. It is to the genius of one man too that all this is mainly owing; and certainly no man ever before bestowed such a gift on his kind. The blessing is not only universal, but unbounded; and the fabled inventors of the plough and the loom, who were deified by the erring gratitude of their rude contemporaries, conferred less important benefits on mankind than the inventor of our present steam-engine.

This will be the fame of Watt with future generations; and it is sufficient for his race and his country. But to those to whom he more immediately belonged, who lived in his society and enjoyed his conversation, it is not, perhaps, the character in which he will be most frequently recalled--most deeply lamented--or even most highly admired. Independently of his great attainments in mechanics, Mr. Watt was an extraordinary, and in many respects, a wonderful man. Perhaps no individual in his age possessed so much and such varied and exact information--had read so much, or remembered what he had read so accurately and so well. He had infinite quickness of apprehension, a prodigious memory, and a certain rectifying and methodising power of understanding, which extracted something precious out of all that was presented to it. His stores of miscellaneous knowledge were immense--and yet less astonishing than the command he had at all times over them. It seemed as if every subject that was casually started in conversation with him, had been that which he had been last occupied in studying and exhausting; such was the copiousness, the precision, and the admirable clearness of the information which he poured out upon it without effort or hesitation. Nor was this promptitude and compass of knowledge confined in any degree to the studies connected with his ordinary pursuits. That he should have been minutely and extensively skilled in chemistry and the arts, and in most of the branches of physical science, might perhaps have been conjectured; but it could not have been inferred from his usual occupations, and probably is not generally known, that he was curiously learned in many branches of antiquity, metaphysics, medicine, and etymology, and perfectly at home in all the details of architecture, music, and law. He was well acquainted too with most of the modern languages, and familiar with their most recent literature. Nor was it at all extraordinary to hear the great mechanician and engineer detailing and expounding, for hours together, the metaphysical theories of the German logicians, or criticising the measures or the matter of the German poetry.

His astonishing memory was aided, no doubt, in a great measure, by a still higher and rarer faculty--by his power of digesting and arranging in its proper place all the information he received, and of casting aside and rejecting, as it were instinctively, whatever was worthless or immaterial. Every conception that was suggested to his mind seemed instantly to take its place among its other rich furniture, and to be condensed into the smallest and most convenient form. He never appeared, therefore, to be at all incumbered or perplexed with the verbiage of the dull books he perused, or the idle talk to which he listened; but to have at once extracted, by a kind of intellectual alchemy, all that was worthy of attention, and to have reduced it to his own use, to its true value and to its simplest form. And thus it often happened, that a great deal more was learned from his brief and vigorous account of the theories and arguments of tedious writers, than an ordinary student could ever have derived from the most faithful study of the originals; and that errors and absurdities became manifest from the mere clearness and plainness of his statement of them, which might have deluded and perplexed most of his hearers without that invaluable assistance.

It is needless to say, that with those vast resources, his conversation was at all times rich and instructive in no ordinary degree; but it was, if possible, still more pleasing than wise, and had all the charms of familiarity, with all the substantial treasures of knowledge. No man could be more social in his spirit, less assuming or fastidious in his manners, or more kind and indulgent towards all who approached him. He rather liked to talk, at least in his latter years; but though he took a considerable share of the conversation, he rarely suggested the topics on which it was to turn, but readily and quickly took whatever was presented by those around him, and astonished the idle and barren propounders of an ordinary theme, by the treasures which he drew from the mine which they had unconsciously opened. He generally seemed, indeed, to have no choice or predilection for one subject of discourse rather than another, but allowed his mind, like a great cyclopædia, to be opened at any letter his associates might choose to turn up, and only endeavoured to select from his inexhaustible stores what might be best adapted to the taste of his present hearers. As to their capacity, he gave himself no trouble; and, indeed, such was his singular talent for making all things plain, clear, and intelligible, that scarcely any one could be aware of such a deficiency in his presence. His talk, too, though overflowing with information, had no resemblance to lecturing or solemn discoursing, but, on the contrary, was full of colloquial spirit and pleasure. He had a certain quiet and grave humour, which ran through most of his conversation, and a vein of temperate jocularity, which gave infinite zest and effect to the condensed and inexhaustible information which formed its main staple and characteristic. There was a little air of affected testiness, and a tone of pretended rebuke and contradiction, with which he used to address his younger friends, that was always felt by them as an endearing mark of his kindness and familiarity, and prized accordingly far beyond all the solemn compliments that ever proceeded from the lips of authority. His voice was deep and powerful, though he commonly spoke in a low and somewhat monotonous tone, which harmonized admirably with the weight and brevity of his observations, and set off to the greatest advantage the pleasant anecdotes which he delivered with the same grave brow and the same calm smile playing soberly on his lips. There was nothing of effort indeed, or impatience, any more than of pride or levity, in his demeanour; and there was a finer expression of reposing strength, and mild self-possession in his manner, than we ever recollect to have met with in any other person. He had in his character the utmost abhorrence for all sorts of forwardness, parade and pretensions; and, indeed, never failed to put all such impostors out of countenance, by the manly plainness and honest intrepidity of his language and deportment.

In his temper and dispositions he was not only kind and affectionate, but generous and considerate of the feelings of all around him, and gave the most liberal assistance and encouragement to all young persons who showed any indications of talent, or applied to him for patronage or advice. His health, which was delicate from his youth upwards, seemed to become firmer as he advanced in years; and he preserved, up almost to the last moment of his existence, not only the full command of his extraordinary intellect, but all the alacrity of spirit, and the social gaiety which had illuminated his happiest days. His friends in this part of the country never saw him more full of intellectual vigour and colloquial animation, never more delightful or instructive, than in his last visit to Scotland, in autumn, 1817. Indeed, it was after that time that he applied himself, with all the ardour of early life, to the invention of a machine for mechanically copying all sorts of sculpture and statuary, and distributed among his friends some of its earliest performances, as the productions of a young artist just entering on his 83d year.

This happy and useful life came at last to a gentle close. He had suffered some inconveniences through the summer; but was not seriously indisposed till within a few weeks from his death. He then became perfectly aware of the event which was approaching; and with his usual tranquillity and benevolence of nature, seemed only anxious to point out to the friends around him the many sources of consolation, which were afforded by the circumstances under which it was about to take place. He expressed his sincere gratitude to Providence for the length of days with which he had been blessed, and his exemption from most of the infirmities of age, as well as for the calm and cheerful evening of life that he had been permitted to enjoy, after the honourable labours of the day had been concluded. And thus, full of years and honours, in all calmness and tranquillity he yielded up his soul, without pang or struggle, and passed from the bosom of his family to that of his God!

He was twice married, but has left no issue but one son, long associated with him in his business and studies, and two grand-children by a daughter who predeceased him. He was a fellow of the Royal Societies both of London and Edinburgh, and of the few Englishmen who were elected members of the National Institute of France. All men of learning and science were his cordial friends; and such was the influence of his mild character and perfect fairness and liberality, even upon the pretenders to these accomplishments, that he lived to disarm even envy itself, and died, we verily believe, without a single enemy. [_London Times_.

At the recent sale of the late Mr. B. Tompkins' prime Herefordshire cattle, one cow and her calf (a two years old bull) sold for the sum of nine hundred and fifty pounds: four bulls for one thousand and seventy-one pounds; and two bull calves, for three hundred and sixty-two pounds five shillings!

The king of England is now in the 60th year of his _reign_--a reign longer in its duration, by nearly four years, than that of any sovereign of England, that of Henry the 3d being only 56 years.

A Mr. Wright, of London, proposes, in an English paper, to institute a cottage society, in shares of ten pounds sterling each, for the purpose of procuring lands, either waste or by purchase, to be divided into lots, from four to twelve acres each, whereon to erect cottages, for the accommodation of the poor. Mr. Wright considers the monopoly of small farms by the great landholders, as the principal cause of the prevailing pauperism in England, by having thrown too great a mass of the population into the towns. He computes that, from the enclosure of commons and waste lands, within the last fifty years, there have been 120,000 small farms and cottages annihilated, which, at five souls each, gives 600,000 persons who have been driven from the pursuits of agriculture.

_Light without Heat or Combustion._

EXTRACT OF A LETTER.

"I have lately seen an account of a discovery of a singular and highly important character, announced in the latter part of August, at Paris, by a Professor _Meinike_, (a German probably) viz. an artificial _gas_, confined in _glass_, assuming, by the electric shock, a permanent, steady light, without _heat_ or _combustion_!

"Here is a grand desideratum, indeed--a candle which can be thrust into _carded cotton_ innoxious, or into a cistern of water unextinguished; which can be placed under one's pillow while we sleep, and taken out at pleasure. Our houses may be built with it in such a manner as to avoid the necessity of those cold holes of winter--windows.

"The whale may keep his _blubber_, and the shark his _liver_; the coasts of the ocean may be lined with those newly discovered (_Pharoi_) light bearers; they may be sunk on reefs, and _shine_ up _information_ through the deep; and, by anchoring them in lines through oceans, we may mark the _ship road_, and have _guide posts_ which tell the best path, for each month in the year, across the parallels of this ball. Extravagant as this may seem, I assure you that I have often entertained the idea that an insulated mass of _electron_, (according to Augustus B. Woodward,) or some _phosphorus_, might be produced in a permanently useful form. We now _bottle_ up _lightning_--we _cork_ up the enemy of the _small pox_, and let him out at pleasure; we see our way by peeping at the skies, or into a box, (mariner's compass,) where we keep a little modicum of _polar essence_, to steer by, &c. You recollect that, in 1799, a hearty laugh was raised against the democrats, by comparing them to the philosopher of Lugghagg, extracting _sunbeams from cucumbers_. Dean Swift would have put into his philosophical _whim-whams_ the bottling of lightning, together with the extracting of sun-beams from cucumbers, had he thought of it, or known that it was ever dreamed of. May Congress soon be supplied, every man of them, with a _pocket light_ upon this new plan!"

The ingenious writer of this letter, adds the correspondent who communicated it, might have added, that this invention will be of excellent service to Captain Symmes and his fellow travellers, among the _concentric spheres_ in the interior of our planet.

[_Nat. Int._

_Whale Fisheries._

Our whale fisheries are, perhaps, more flourishing now than at any former period. I have formed an estimate of the probable amount thus employed from Nantucket, Martha's Vineyard, and this port, which would be at risk in case of a war with Spain, which may awaken the attention of those whom it may concern. From New Bedford, there are round Cape Horn or on their passage, 18 ships and 1 brig, whose tonnage is 5347 tons; and they with their outfits cost $565,000

Their return cargoes would probably amount in value to 800,000

From the Vineyard there are two ships which cost 50,000

Their return cargoes would probably amount to 93,000

From Nantucket fifty ships, which probably cost 1,350,000

Their return cargoes would probably amount to 2,342,000

From New Bedford, on this side Cape Horn, there are eleven ships and eight brigs, which probably cost 277,000

Their return cargoes probably will amount to 363,000

From Nantucket ten ships, which probably cost 140,000

And their return cargoes will probably amount to 227,000 ---------- Amounting in all to $6,000,000 ----------

_New Bedford Paper_.]

_Fire-Places_.

FROM THE DOWNINGSTON REPUBLICAN.

_Fire-places_, for warming rooms, have been for a long time in use; and the best plan for constructing them continues to be an interesting subject of investigation.