In all his points the Devon is the finest formed, most blood-like, and active of cattle. He is to his congeners what the Arabian is to other horses. In consequence of this, and being only about three-fourths the size of the Short-horn or Hereford, he is better suited than either of these for shorter pasture or a hilly country. Devons make the best of work-oxen, having a walk as fast as that of a horse, and can trot a fair pace when allowed. They are much used in the yoke on the farm and road in different parts of the country, till seven to ten years old, and then turned out to grass to fatten for the shambles, which is rapidly and economically done. Their beef at this age is equal to any; and if fed from calfhood till three years old, it is then considered by some a little superior to Short-horn or Hereford. On the abundant pastures and in the rich corn fields of the West the size of the Devon has been increased, and they are usually marketed there for slaughter at the same age as the Herefords, not being worked there in the yoke so much as at the East.

The cows are unsurpassed in the dairy when bred for this purpose. The Earl of Leicester had a large herd on his Norfolk estate, which was among the best of England, and Mr. Patterson's, of Maryland, and others in the United States, are equally celebrated.

The color of the Devons varies from a changeable crimson to a bright mahogany red.

A white switch adorns the tail, and a patch of white occasionally marks the udder of the cow, especially of those which are the greatest milkers. The skin is a rich yellow, with orange-colored nose and rim round each eye. The horns of the bullocks are long and lofty, like those of the Hereford. They are beautiful animals, and so fine in shape, high-bred, and blood-like as to be an ornament to any landscape.

I now come to a race a few only of which have as yet been imported into the

The

There are other tribes of polled cattle in Scotland as well as in England, and a mixed variety in our own country, which would answer tolerably in assisting to stock the Western plains, and if crossed with compact Short-horn bulls, the size of the progeny would be considerably increased, and made much more valuable to the breeder and grazier.

Short-horn cattle have become such favorites throughout our Northern, Middle, and Western States and Territories, and are really so superior to all other races for general purposes, I am aware that their intelligent breeders will not be easily persuaded to change them for others. But when we consider what an exhauster the growing of horns is of phosphate from the soil-its most precious element; how dangerous horned cattle are to both man and beast, when growing up, grievously wounding, and not unfrequently causing death; what an objection to close packing in railroad cars or on board ship; and what an injury and discomfort to themselves and each other in goring, and locking horns, and getting them entangled in their fastenings, and being thereby thrown down and trampled upon-it may well be desired to substitute the polled for them. There would be so considerable an economy in thus doing that I shall not be surprised to see a gradual change henceforth going on of horned beasts for these throughout the country.

No doubt a good race of polled cattle could be reared and marketed at from five to ten per cent. less cost than the best-bred of our horned beasts; and if so, this would be a saving of many millions annually to the breeders, graziers, and feeders throughout the land. Moreover, they could be marketed in so much better condition, es

pecially when shipped to Europe, that both the flesh and hides would command a higher price, and this, again, would be a considerable additional profit.

But some contend that lofty curved horns are a great ornament to cattle, endowing them with a more noble presence; yet whether a horned or hornless animal shall be most admired depends greatly on education. Those who are brought up among the latter dislike the former as an ly excrescence and dangerous to the person, and on no account would have them among their herds. The breeder and grazier, however, is not to consider what is most admired, but what will be the most useful and profitable.

Millions and millions of hornless sheep have been reared for centuries past in Great Britain, and in the eyes of their flock-masters are considered handsomer -as, indeed, they are-than horned, and on no account would they change them for the latter, even if they were less profitable; but inasmuch as they are found to be considerably the most profitable, they enjoy a double advantage in making up their flocks exclusively of these beautiful polled animals.

A PUZZLE FOR METAPHYSICIANS. the month of November, 1845, the ship Sophia Walker sailed from Boston, bound for Palermo. The owners, Messrs. Theophilus and Nathaniel Walker, had invited their brother-in-law, the Rev. Charles Walker, to go out to Palermo, as passenger, for the benefit of his health.

Among the crew was a young man named Frederick Stetson. He was the eldest son of the Rev. Caleb Stetson, at that time pastor of the Unitarian church in Medford, Massachusetts.

Frederick had been in a store in Boston, but, not being well, returned home to be under the care of a physician. His health did not improve; and Dr. Bemis, of Medford, advised a sea-voyage as most likely to restore his vigor. Frederick was delighted with this prospect, and his parents reluctantly consented.

It was thought best for his health that he should go on board as a sailor; but a contract was made with Captain John Codman, that in case Frederick should become weary of his duties, he should be admitted to the cabin in the capacity of captain's clerk.

VOL LXL-No. 361.-7

From the fact that the Rev. Mr. Stetson was a neighbor and friend, I became acquainted with these circumstances at the time the young man left home and embarked on board the Sophia Walker. The father also requested my husband to speak to Captain Codman, his former pupil, in regard to the youth.

In common with other friends, I sympathized deeply with Mr. and Mrs. Stetson in parting from their son under these painful circumstances; but domestic cares and other scenes gradually effaced these impressions, until I forgot the length of time he expected to be absent, and indeed lost all recollection of his voyage.

I relate these circumstances in detail that the reader may understand more fully the remarkable facts which followed.

During the latter part of February, 1846, the death of my mother, Mrs. Leonard Woods, of Andover, was succeeded by my own dangerous illness. In March I was seized with hemorrhage of the lungs, and lay for days hovering between life and death.

One night, when the crisis seemed to have passed, a member of my husband's church, Mrs. Sarah Butters, who had been watching with me, retired soon after who was to watch with me till morning. midnight to give place to my husband, I had taken the medicine prescribed by my physician, and was endeavoring to compose myself to sleep, when all at once, with the vividness of a flash of lightning, the following scene was before me: A tremendous ocean storm; a frail vessel pitching headlong into the trough of the sea; a billow mountain-high ready to ingulf her; a slender youth clinging to the masthead; a more furious blast, a higher wave, and the youth, whom notwithstanding the darkness I instantly recognized as Frederick Stetson, fell into the foaming, seething deep.

As he struck the water I shrieked in agony; and my husband sprang to my side, expecting to see the crimson drops again oozing from my lips. My countenance, full of horror, terrified him.

"What is it?" he asked.

I motioned him to silence, unable to withdraw my thoughts from the scene. I still heard the roaring of the angry billows, the shouts of the captain and crew.

"Man overboard!" "Throw a rope!" "Let down the life-boat!" "It's no use; the ship has pitched beyond his reach!"

66

"Young Hall brought it out," he explained. 'Captain Codman wished me to have the letter at once, lest the parents should hear the sorrowful tidings in an abrupt manner."

The sad scenes which followed are too sacred to be even touched upon here. Mr. Baker did not return home for hours, having offered to go to Cambridge, and convey the sad intelligence to Merriam Stetson, the second son, who was a member of Harvard College.

"I am to go in to Boston to see Captain Codman in the morning," he said. "Mr. Stetson is anxious to see him, and I shall ask him to return with me.

I recalled the last scene on board the Sophia Walker, and said: "I thought he himself went in. It is the first thing not exactly in accordance with my vision."

I called it vision, for I was not asleep, and therefore it could not be a dream.

The next morning, when Mr. Baker called at Mr. Stetson's house to take any additional messages, he learned that, impatient and restless, the sorrowing father

had found it impossible to wait, and had taken the earliest conveyance into Boston, where a scene occurred like what I had witnessed.

There was no longer need of secrecy in regard to my prescience or foresight, if so it may be called, and it speedily came to the parents' ears. Persons of intelligence of both sexes speculated and puzzled over these remarkable mental phenomena, unlike most recorded by philosophers in the fact, already stated, of the mind not only recognizing what was passing at the moment at a distance of hundreds of miles, but going forward in advance of events, and foretelling them with minute accuracy.

I make no effort to explain my mental state, which I am entirely unable to do; but I may be pardoned for quoting from a philosopher of the present century, who, speaking of visions and dreams, remarks: "It is in vain to attempt an explanation of them. They scarcely appear referable to any principle with which we are at present acquainted."

Priestly, another metaphysician, adds: "If the nerves and brain be a vibrating substance, all sensations and ideas are vibrations in that substance; and all that is properly unknown in the business is the power of the mind to perceive or be affected by these vibrations."

The following case, somewhat analogous to the one narrated above, is from Abercrombie on the Intellectual Powers, which says, “I relate this without any attempt at explanation, and without any other comment than that its accuracy may be relied on in all its particulars:"

"Two ladies, sisters, had been for several days in attendance upon their brother, who was ill of a comsidered as attended with danger. At the same time mon sore throat, severe and protracted, but not con

one of them had borrowed a watch from a friend in

consequence of her own being under repairs. This watch was one to which particular value was attached, on account of some family associations, and anxiety was expressed that it might not meet with any injury. The sisters were sleeping together in a room communicating with that of their brother, when the elder of them awoke in a state of great agitation, and having roused the other, told her that she had had a frightful dream.

"I dreamed,' she said, 'that Mary's watch stopped, and that when I told you of the circumstance, you replied, "Much worse than that has happened, for brother's breath has stopped also."'

diately got up, and found the brother sleeping qui"To quiet her agitation, the younger sister immeetly, and the watch, which had been carefully put in a drawer, going correctly.