The Anderson intelligencer. (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, August 12, 1875, Image 1
FISH CULTURE.
Hiuts Regarding the Propagation and
Breeding of Fish.
9rom the St. Louis Times.
? If the man who causes two blades of
grass to grow where one grew before is to
be considered a public benefactor, what
shall be said for the man who causes two
fish to swim where none swam before?
The cultivation and consumption of fish
enter as important elements into the
question of the food supply, and the sub?
ject of pissiculture,. is yearly attracting
greater attention, although by no means,
as yet, has it excited the attention that it
deserves and that it is sure to receive
when the popular mind shall be fully
awakened to its importance. Referring
to the blade of grass comparison, it will
once be admitted that a fish is much
more valuable than a blade of grass, und
it may also be said that it costs compara?
tively little to raise him. It is only
necessary to give him a fair start, and to
let him alone in order that he shall in?
crease and multiply and replenish the
rivers with food that is -free to anybody
and needed by everybody. There are
but few of God's gifts to man that furnish
him with flesh-producing and brain-sus?
taining nutriment in a more compact,
portable and convenient form than fish.
The farm that raises this crop is free?no
man owns it to the exclusion of another
?it requires no manure or any manner
of cultivation?the crop is a sure, self-re?
newing and everlasting one, unless one
wantonly and wickedly waste and destroy
it. ,
This wanton and wicked waste and de?
struction are the great drawbacks to a
plentiful fish supply. Because the waters
are absolutely tree, every man feels him?
self at liberty to exert his utmost efforts,
in season and out of season, by all sorts
of unhallowed pot-hunting contrivances,
to get possession of the greatest possible
portion of the finny' prey. The selfish?
ness and greediness of mankind are re
.markably manifest in this matter, and
the result is that our lakes, rivers and
brooks are gradually depopulated of their
scaly inhabitants, until the scarcity of
fish becomes a cause of general com?
plaint
The people are waking up, all over the
country, to- the necessity of remedying
this evil, not only by putting a stop to
water waste and destruction, but by re?
newing and enlarging the fish supply by
means of stocking the lakes and rivers
with young fish. Attempts are being
made on an extensive scale to fill all the
available waters of the country with
young fish, including those that arc
foreign, as well as those that arc indige?
nous, to the various localities. The sys?
tem under which this great work is being
accomplished is known as pisciculture,
or the breeding and rearing of fish. Al?
though comparatively a new industry in
this country, it has been practiced in
China from the earliest times of which
we have any record, and has been brought
to a state of remarkable perfection in
Italy, France and England.
The style which is now universally
adopted for fish breed, is the artificial
fecundation of the eggs of fishes, which ,
is said to have been discovered in the
fourteenth century by Dom Pinchon, a
French monk, who bred fish in wooden
boxes having ends of wickcrwork, and
the bottoms covered with sand, in which
the ova were deposited.
The first attempts at the industrial use
of the art were made in Hanover, and
from that time and place it has spread
and grown, until its beneficial effects arc
visible over the greater part of the civil?
ized world.
In this country the first recorded ex?
periment in the artificial propagation of
fish was made in South Carolina, in 1S04.
Many yeaTSf after there were successful
efforts in this direction in Ohio, which
were followed in 1859 by the splendid
achievements of Ainsworth and Seth
Green in New York, Livingston Stone in
New Hampshire, and several others.
Seth Green is the great apostle of pisci?
culture in the United States, and to his
efforts, more than to these of any other
man, is the country indebted for the
present progress of this important indus?
try, and for the wide-spread diffusion of
its benefits. By the act of congress of
February 9,1871, a United States com?
missioner of fish and fisheries was provid?
ed for, and Prof. Baird, of the Smithso?
nian institution, was appointed commis?
sioner. State action on the subject had
been first taken, however, the New Eng?
land States being the first to move.
Their example was followed by others,
until fish commissions were established
by law in fifteen States, viz: Maine, New
Hampshire, Vermont, Rhode Island,
Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York,
New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland,
Virginia, Alabama, Ohio Michigan and
California. The efforts of these commis?
sions have been directed to the stocking
of rivers and ponds, to the erecting of
fish ways around falls- and dams, and to
the procuring of protective legislation
forbidding the taking of fish during the
spawning season, and regulating the use
of nets , and more destructive means of
capture. As evidence of the success of
these efforts, it may be mentioned that
since; 1867, when Seth Green first turned
15,000,000 young shad into the Connecti
cut4 the shad in that rjjrer have largely
increased, and the "net" results have
been much greater than heretofore. In
the Hudson the experiment has also
been very successful, as was abundantly
proved by the catch of the recent sea?
sons, when these excellent fish were so
abundant that they were sold at whole?
sale on the bank of the river for as low
as one-third of the rates that had ruled
previously.
. The result was favorably felt here in
? St. Louis, where shad could be procured
during the spring as cheap as our home
fish or those from the lakes.
The inodn..-operandi of fish propaga?
tion has been frequently explained, but
is not so extensively understood that a
brief description of the process would lie
uninteresting to the readers of the Time*.
The system is properly known as the art i?
ficial fecundation of fish spawns, it is j
generally known that our fresh water
hsh do "not reproduce their species in
deep water, but ascend the rivers and
small streams and branches as far as tin y
can go, with the purpose of reaching the
clear and shallow water, which is abso?
lutely necessary for the successful propa?
gation of their young, Every boy who
has lived in the country is familial with
gravelly "r]ftles" on which the iish de?
posit their spawn at "shoaling" time, and
has frequented those places for the pur?
pose of spearing, shooting, or otherwise
tapt tiring the fish, which are always in
good condition at that season. Tins
knowledge of the habits of the finny tribe
is used to advantage in the artificial pro?
pagation of fish, and nature is imitated
as closely as possible, in order to produce
a successful result in breeding fish.
The female fish, as is well known, are.
filled with eggs, which are called spawn,
and in the male fish is a substance known
as the milt. When the fish reach the
spawning ground, the eggs become
swollen and ready to drop, and the milt
becomes milty, as if about to exude.
The female then deposits her spawn
upon a gravelly shallow, and the male
follows and covers it with the milt. Thus
the spawn becomes fecundated, and the
rippling of the water over the gravel
gently agitates it, such agitation being
requisite'for the successful hatching of
the fish. The period required for hatch?
ing varies with the different fish and with
different degrees of temperature. The
spawn of shad, for instance, is hatched in
seventy-two hours in water at a tempera
j ture of 7S degrees, and in seven days
when the temperature is GO degrees.
When the fish arc first hatched, they
have an umbilical sac, about three times
the size of the body, which supplies them
with sustenance for a period varying ac?
cording to the temperature of the water,
from 6 to 77 days. The fry are then able
to take care of themselves, and instinc?
tively seek the main current of the
stream, where they are comparatively
free from the enemies that destroy them
in shallower water.
These processes of nature are closely
followed by man in the artificial fecun?
dation of fish, with the additional advan?
tage of preserving the minnows from
their natural enemies. Female and male
fish are carefully captured at spawning
time, and the milt of the male are ex?
pressed into a pan of water, by holding
the fish as near the surface of the water
as possible, while the hand is passed
gently along the abdomen. The eggs
are thus impregnated, and arc removed
to hatching boxes, the most successful
apparatus being a box patented by Zeth
Green. This box has a bottom of wire
gauze, sustained in the water by two float
oars fastened at the sides at au angle
with the top. It is anchored in the
stream near tne shore, iu a gentle cur?
rent that passes freely through the gauze
and buoys up the eggs within. The
fecundated ova, after the first formation
of the fish is sccu, may be transported
without injury, if packed in moist moss
in glass jars or tin boxes admitting the
air, at a temperature from 5 to 15 degrees
above the freezing point, they may be
kept packed for two weeks, and even
after the lapse of six weeks they have
been found uninjured. Salmon ova have
kept in ice for ninety days, half of the
frozen eggs being afterward hatched, and
they have been transported from Eng?
land to Australia, packed in moss and
surrounded with ice, occupying about
eighty days in the passage.
In the United States, fecundated ova
and young fish have been transported
from New York to California, and to
various other portions of the country, not
only re-stocking rivers whose fish supply
had been destroyed, but introducing new
, varieties into numerous streams. Shad,
for instance, have been transferred from
the Hudson to the Sacramento river, ami
to several rivers in the west and south.
The latest experiment was the depositing
of 100,000 young shad in Pearl river in
Mississippi. It cannot be supposed that
all those experiments will be successful;
but it cannot be doubted that many of
them will prove immensely beneficial in
increasing the fish supply of the country.
Shad that were placed in a tributary of
the Alabama in 1848, have spread until
several streams emptying into the Gulf
of Mexico are stocked with them. They
are found in the Escambia and ius tribu?
taries on the east and on the west in the
Mississippi as far up as the tributaries of
the Red and Arkansas river. A number
of live fish were lately received in New
York from Germany, by Prof. Baird, who
has shipped to Germany a large quantity
of shad eggs, in return for a shipment of
salmon eggs received from that country.
We notice that Nashville, Tennessee,
is moving in the matter of pisciculture,
and efforts are being made looking to the
establishment of a permanent fish com?
mission in that city.
The subject of fish protection has late?
ly received some attention in this locali?
ty ; but St. Louis and Missouri arc far
behind the age with regard to piscicul?
ture, and it is high time that something
should be done to stock our many streams
with fine qualities of fish, as well as to
protect the finny tribe from waste and
wanton destruction. There is no indus?
try that will yield such large returns for
such small expenditure, and we owe it to
ourselves and our posterity to take timely
and practical action upon this important
subject.
Moral Courage iu Daily Life.
"Moral Courage" was printed in larsrc
letters and put as the caption of the fol?
lowing items, and placed in a conspicu?
ous place on the door of a systematic
merchant in New York, for constant re?
ference, and furnished by him for publi?
cation :
Have the courage to discharge a debt
while you have the money in your pocket.
Have the courage to do without that
which you do not need, however much
your eyes may covet it.
Have the courage to speak to a friend
in a seedy coat, even though you are in
company with a rich one, and richly at?
tired.
Have the courage to speak your mind
when it is necessary that you should do
so, and hold your tongue when it is pru?
dent that you should do so.
Have the courage to own that you arc
poor and thus disarm poverty of its sting.
Have the courage to tell ii man why
you refuse to credit him.
Have the courage to tell a man why
von will not lend him your money.
Have the courage to cut the most
agreeable acquaintance you have when
you are convinced that he lacks principle
?a friend should hear with his friend's
infirmities, but not with his vices.
Have courage to show your respect for
honesty, in whatever guise it appear!*,
and your contempt lor dishonesty and
duplicity, by whomsoever exhibited.
Have the courage to wear your old
clothes until you can pay fur new ones.
Have the courage to prefer comfort
and propriety to fashion in all things.
Have the courage to acknowledge your
iguorurice, rather than to seek for knowl?
edge under false pretences.
Have the courage in providing an en?
tertainment for your friends, not to ex?
ceed your means.
Andrew Johnson.
The news of the death of this distin?
guished man will be read with regret
throughout the breadth of this land.
No more remarkable figure has ever
appeared upon the stage of American
politics. He sprang from the mudsills,
and yet walked through all the paths of
life with a power and dignity, that kings
born in the purple might have envied.
There is no section of this country, no
class of people, no wing of partisans that
have not denounced him. No man has
been more bufletted about by waves of
hate and passion; no man more petted
and beloved. No party ever held him
long. There was in him a stern and
abiding confidence in self, that led him
to regard parlies as accidents, concurring
to-day and to-morrow, disagreeing with
views that he felt bound to enforce, and
principles that he had determined to de?
fend. He cared literally nothing for the
prestige or power of partisan organiza?
tion, but gave his own opinion supremacy
with himself, and made his own inclina?
tions imperious in his own breast. There
is no man of the thousands who are at
this hour writing sketches of his life,
no matter what his politics may be, who
will not find many chapters in Johnson's
life to approve and others to condemn.
He has been the hero and the contempt,
in turn, of every section of this Repub?
lic. The writer of this iutroduced nim
to an audience of people at the Universi?
ty of Virginia when he was leaving the
Presidential mansion after Grant's inau?
guration. A more enthusiastic ovation
was never tendered to any man than he
received at Charlottesvillc that day.
Just a few years before that occasion, he
was passing through Charlottesvillc, and
a mob of the same people rushed into
his car and severely maltreated him, the
leader deliberately and conspicuously
slapping him on the face. Through just
such stormy scenes was the life that has
just ended passed. And yet through
them all, equally, the old man carried a
strength and majesty of demeanor that
was grand and Socratic.
Andrew Johnson was born in Raleigh,
N. C, December 29, 1S0S. When he
was four years old he lost his father, who
died from over-exertion in an effort to
save a friend from drowning. At the
age often he was apprenticed to a tailor,
with whom he served seven years. His
mother being very poor, he never atten?
ded school a day in his life. While
learning his trade, he resolved to make
an effort to educate himself. His anxie?
ty to be able to read was excited by an
incident worthy of mention. A gentle?
man of Raleigh was in the habit of visit?
ing the shop and reading while the jour?
neymen were at work. Iiis favorite book
was a volume of the speeches of British
statesmen. Johnson was deeply interes?
ted, and he determined to master that
book, which the owner, hearing of his
ambition, had presented to him. His
apprenticeship being out in the fall of
1824, he removed to Laurens C. H., S.
C, where he worked two years at Iiis
trade. Here he became engaged to be
married, but the match was prevented by
the relatives of the young lady. He
then went back to Raleigh, and remained
there a few mouths, when he wandered
out to the West, locating at Greenville,
in East Tennessee. Here he: married.
From lus wife he continued to learn the
rudiments of an English education. He
was elected alderman in 1828, 1829 and
ISMO, then chosen Mayor, and served
three years. In 1885 he was elected to
the Legislature, and took decided stand
against u scheme for internal improve?
ments. This defeated him in 1.S37. In
1839, his views having been vindicated
by time, he was overwhelmingly elected
in 1S40. He served as Presidential elec?
tor in 1841. He was elected State Sena?
tor in 1843, then to Congress, and served
until 1853, when he was elected Governor
of Tennessee, in an exciting cauvass,
which he was opposed by Gustavus A.
Henry. Re-elected 1855, beating Mcri
dith P. Gentry. At the expiration of
his second term, he was elected UiriteU
States Senator for a full term, ending
March 3,1803.
When the war broke out ho espoused
the cause of the Union, and became the
Military Governor of Tennessee, when
his administration was very severe against
Southern men. He was elected in IS04
the Vice President of the United States,
and became President by the death of
Mr. Lincoln.
During his Presidency, he was im?
peached because of his fearless defense
of the South and of Southern men, and
escaped dethronement by a small vote.
After his retiracy from the White House,
he returned to his home in Tennessee,
where, after remaining quiet for about
two years, he re-entered politics, and
after a series of stormy contests he was
elected to the United States Senate. His
return to the Senate was 'heralded
throughout the Union as an event of
National import,-and the Democrats were
much elated at the probable results of
his service. His name was prominently
mentioned in connection with the Presi?
dential nomination, and had "ic lived ho
would doubtless have gone before the
National Convention. He made only
one speech during the one session he
served in the Senate prior to his death.
This one contained a terrible and master?
ly arraignment of Grant ism, and pro?
duced a powerful effect.
The most wonderful phase of John?
son's career was his power with the
masses. He was the idol of the lower
classes. They believed in him with an
absolutism that nothing could modify.
Even during his last race for the Senate,
after he had been in active polities for
nearly forty years, ami had occupied ev?
ery office, from Alderman to President,
he was elected by the clamorous demand
(hat. came from all quarters, "to give the
people a chance against the politicians."
lie loved the people, and they loved him.
The writer while silting in the Overtoil
House, Memphis, during the Mardi Gras
festival, saw a crowd of six or eight
roughly dressed wood-haulers, stalking
down the corridor. Their appearance of
course excited a great deal of interest.
"They arc looking for Andy Johnson,"
exclaimed a gentleman sitting near us.
Sure enough they entered his room, and
though it was filled with the aristocrats
of the city, each one of these men re?
ceived a kind word from the great Com?
moner, and came out with his features ill
a glow, and his heart full of joy.
The South may well regret his death.
She had nothing In fear and much to
hope for in his Inline, lie would never
again have deserted her. lie would have
been her friend till dealh. As for his
past, we should emphasize his virtues
and as near as possible erase his fail I Is.
We should remember him, when brought
to the Presidency, by*a crime that ha<l
exasperated the country against the
South, in whose behalf it was alleged to
have been committed, he became her
friend and stood like a roclc, senseless in
his sternness, between her and her ene?
mies. We should remember that for the
Smith's sake he threw away the easy
sceptre of power, challenged the anger of
a proud ami dominant party and braved
the terrors of an impeachment. That
one act of his. which we can never for?
give?we may, in charity and kindness?
forget.
There is something inexpressibly sad
in the death of this man who was just
rising on the wave that had carried him
into the depths. We think it will he
generally seen in the history of individ?
uals and nations that the moment of
supreme possession is the moment of
death. Just as all that heart can exult
in is about to be enjoyed, all the exulta?
tions of earth pass away with a knell and
a shroud and a cloud ; just as the heights
of a gratified ambition in the face of foes
and dangers that seemed unconquerable,
and with a sweep of power and pride in
the view that dazzles and overwhelms ;
just as man begins to feel he is omnipo?
tent in the control of events, the eyes
glaze under the touch of the grave, and
the vision fades away iuto tho dark
chambers of death.
This man had soared to a height of
which he himself did not dream. From
it he was humbled by another stroke of
fortune into the very dust. There he
lay for long, abased, abused, discrowned,
dishonored.
Then he began to feel the upward im?
pulse. Oh, how sweet the hope that
dawned in his heart! He arose, he felt
the movement, carrying him to a splen?
dor of triumph, a wealth of repayment,
a quivering loyfuluess of pride, almost
beyond the human capacity to sustain.
His eager hand, just stretched forth for
the glittering prize, falls powerless to his
side, ami Andrew Johnson is gathered to
his fathers.
At last he has "swung around the cir?
cle" and is at rCySt. He died as he must
have hoped to die?in power and in hon?
ors?beloved by his people and respected
by tho world. Let us hope that, as he
closed the circle of his pilgrimage on
earth, he had, as when he began it, a
white soul and a heart without sin.?At?
lanta Herald.
Fortune Favors at Last.
The death, a year ago last May, of a
well known and prominent board of trade
man, M/De lielloy, is well remembered
by many people m Chicago, especially
by those who were acquainted with the
history of the unfortunate man. He was
a Frenchman, and scion of one of the
oldest and lirst families of France. His
name and title in full were the Marquis
Ayniar de lielloy. He was a man of line
education, refinement and good business
ability. In his early life he was a wild,
adventurous youth, who spent his fortune
at home, and came to America say twenty
years ago. For a few years he obtained
his livelihood by teaching, keeping his
rank to himself, and going under the Un
assuming name of M. Marechal. About
this time the marquis concluded that all
his wild oats were sown, and he would
abandon the fast life he had previously
led. He became acquainted with a
handsome country girl Ironi Michigan,
with whom he fell in love. She was
only fifteen years old, and, from the
standpoint of the adventurous and high
toncd Frenchman, was unrefined and un?
cultured. l>ut he was captivated by her
very innocence and want of knowledge
of the world, and married her. They
lived happily together up to the time of
his death, and six children were the re?
sult of the union.
As might have been expected, the
noble family of the marquis turned up
their titled noses at this marriage with a
backwoods girl in America, and refused
to recognise it or her. He several years
ago became a member of the board of
trade in Chicago. He there showed the
same wayward, reckless traits that had
been the cause of his checkered life. He
made fortunes and lost them. Sometimes
he was on the top wave of prosperity,
and again he lived in a cave of gloom.
During one of his periods of depression
he took his own life, as is generally be?
lieved, leaving his wife ami six children
in povcrt\r. He had an insurance of
$10,000 on bis life, which has never been
paid, the companies resisting payment
on the ground that he took his own life.
A subscription among his associates on
the board of trade realized i?J,?ii(J or ?2,
OuO, which was used to defray his funeral
expenses, and the rest given to the
family.
A widow with six young children and
no means is a discouraging lot in Chicago
or elsewhere. The oldest boy contribut?
ed what he could to the support of the
familv by blacking boots and selling
papers. He was barefooted and ragged,
and his education was received in the
streets. The widow and hr-r half dozen
children were as poor ami comfortless as
the widow and fatherless could well be.
After a time, finding it impossible to sus?
tain life here, the widow, who is an ex?
cellent lady, took her family and went to
reside with a relative in Genesen, in this
State, where she is now living in seclu?
sion, and still pinched for means to make
life comfortable.
The story thus far is one of early reckless?
ness ami waywardness, of self-exile from
home, of an early marriage, of a prema?
ture death, and subsequent wretchedness
to the family. The concluding chapter
can now he written, ami it is as romantic
as anything in fiction, and it is true. In?
telligence has just reached Chicago that
(he Marchioness He Ik-Hoy, the mother
of the family and of the Chicago De
IVlloy, has died. The Cbicagoan was
the eldest son of the family. All that is
wanting now is for the proofs nf a
legal marriage, according to tho American
law to he forwarded to France, which can
be easily done. The French law recog?
nizes foreign marriages, contracted in
friendly countries, according to the law
of those countries. Consequeiillv the
marriage with the Michigan girl will be
held valid, and not only do the titles of
the family, but one-third of the fortunes,
descend to the widow and her family,
now residing in Gciiesco. The widow
hcrsclf becomes a marchioness-, holding
the same relative position to the family
as did the deceased marchioness. The
oldest boy becomes a marquis. Tin*
lamilv is one of the mo.-i distinguished
in France. It dales ba?*k (?? I In- (Yu
-ailes. Ii has furnished two cardinals
and two marshals lo the nation. -C/iiaif/o
Journa', Jnhj %l~ith.
Disraeli's Tribute to the Author of
"CMMc Harold.?
The Byron memorial, which it is in?
tended to erect to the memory of the
great poet in England, has called from
.Mr. Disraeli one of those characteristic
speeches few men can make so well or
with so little cllbrt. The premier touch?
ed with a light, gracel'ul and gentle hand
all tiie phrases of Byron's career, and de?
fended the poet while scarcely seeming
to praise hi in. Most of our readers have
had their "Byronic days," and for their
benefit we print the speech in full.
Mr. Disraeli, on rising to open the pro?
ceedings was loudly cheered. He said:
"Ladies and gentlemen?I am happy to
meet for the first time the members id' the
committee who have before consulted up?
on the subject which will engage our at?
tention to-day. Before going further I
wish to take this opportunity of attempt?
ing to draw your minds to the contem?
plation of the real object that we have
before us. In the twelfth year of this
century a poem was published by a young
man which instantly commanded the
sympathies of the nation. There is no
instance in literary records of a success
so sudden and so lasting. To uso his
own words, he "'woke one morning and
found himself famous." From that time
for 12 years he poured out a series of
complete inventions, which are not equal?
ed for their number and their consistency
of purpose in the literature of any couutry,
ancient or modern. [Applause.J Admi?
rable for many qualities, for their pictu
resqueness, their wit, their passion, they
ate most distinguished by their power of
expression and by the sublime energy of
their imagination. And then, after
twelve years, he died ; he died in the full?
ness of his fame, having enjoyed in his
lifetime a degree of celebrity which has
never fallen to the lot of any other man
?not only admired in his own country,
but reverenced and adored in Europe.
[Applause.] How is it, then, that after
half a century has elapsed, we are met
here for the first time in public meeting
to devise some means of a national ex?
pression of admiration and gratitude to
qualities so transcendent? [Applause.]
It has been said as some reason for this
strange and dark neglect that the private
character of this poet was not as illus?
trious as his public one. When half a
century has elapsed private character is
scarcely an cllment in the estimate of
literary genius. [Applause.] But of
his private character it may be said
that it was ambiguous; of it little is
clearly known, and there is no man in
this room?aye, I would say even in this
country?that upon that subject can pre?
sume to give a definite and precise opin?
ion. [Loud applause.]
But then, it was said as another excuse
that his works were deficieut in morality,
and that he indulged in too free specula?
tion upon those subjects which the human
mind can never penetrate, yet which it
is organically formed to reverence. And
yet it might be remembered that he was
born in an age of contracted sympathies
and restricted thought, and that much he
then questioned has been since surren?
dered [Applause.] If he fell, as ho uu
doubtly did, into many erroneous con?
clusions upon divine subjects, it may be
urged for him that he was very young.
[ Hear. 11 remember once Lord Lyndhur.-t
disserting upon the character and eareerof
Mr.Canning,and he then a&kod of some
one who was present, what was the precise
age at which .Mr. Canning died, lie was
told that he had died at the age of 56.?
"What," said Lord Lyndhurst, then ad?
vanced in life, but yet in the fullness of
his mental capacity "only ;"Hi; why he
was a mere boy." But we must remem?
ber that when Byron died he was 20
years younger than Mr. Canning, and in
these speculations upon his character aud
his career, that element in that wonder?
ful character and that marvelous career
should never be omitted. It should be
remembered that wo are always on the
life of one who, like those whom the
gods love, died young. | Applause.]
During these Do years that have elapsed,
and during which no public meeting has
ever been called to recognize his merits,
a chorus of poetasters have unceasingly
worked to decry his abilities and ulti?
mately aim to deny his genius. Xo one
who has traveled in Greece can ever
question for a moment the place of Byron
as a poet of the highest class. He has
impressed his mind on that country moto
than auy other poet who has exi-ted since
Homer. There is not a cape, a promon?
tory, a column, that he has not touched
with the fire or suffused with the sweet?
ness of his song. If you follow him in
his Italian residence you will lind tiiat
Italy was to him a source of scarcely in?
ferior inspiration.
But the last and greatest of his works
docs not depend upon local influence. It
will remain as it is now recognized an
unexampled picture of human nature and
the triumphant effort of the English
tongue. [Loud applause] We are met
here, then, to-day at last to do some jus?
tice tonne of the greatest of England's
sons. [Hear, hear. [ What form our feelings
should take it will be for you to decide.
You know, and you will know more as
these proceedings continue, of what has
been attempted. 1 can effectually apolo?
gize for not having taken part in any
proceedings, that my life is a busy and
urgent one, and that I could only lend
to the Committee the depth of my sym?
pathy. But when 1 saw that in that
movement respecting a tablet that it was
sanctioned by the presence and the active
interposition of one who had the proud?
est and the nearest claim to interpose in
such a business?I mean thesou-in-law of
Byron?|cheers|?who more than 40
years ago was my companion in that Al?
bania which Byron celebrated. I felt that
it was under the inllucnce of kindly and
able counsels. For myself, though 1 pre?
sume not to dictate to this assembly what
form their feelings shall assume in this
respect, I will express my individual de?
sire to see in some public place a sem?
blance of this great spirit?-|applause]?
so that the English people when they
pass shall recognize .touts of the greatest
masters of the English language. [Loud
and long applause]
- ,.a. -
?? A very pretty Sunday school song
is the niie entitled, "Put your armor on,
my boys." There is, however, a young
lady in town, who doesn't like to hear it.
Sin- s:ivs it sounds like "put your .-inns
around me, boys," and it always makes
her feel lonesome.
? An exchange says: "A Ithode
Island man has invented a new lawn !
game. Thirteen rjvU kiss a man thirteen
limes each liming (he play.'' We wish
to good11c*s ihey would introduce ihc
game here.
up I
pie
Life in the "Queen of the Autiles."
The London Saturday Review says: Tt
is the uncertainty that gives its marked
character to life'in Cuba,'as elsewhere in
the West Indies. It is not exactly the
"let us eat and drink, lor to-morrow we
die." of the old Jamaica planters, for
the Spaniard is constitutionally temper?
ate, and by no means so freely disposed
to hospitality as the more jovial Britain.
It is not his way to keep open house for
ill comers, with tables groaning under
loads of European cheer, supplemented
with turtle, land-crab and all manner of
tropical dainties; with bullets covered
with decanters tilled with the ardent
wines of southern Europe, with rummers
of sangaree, ami "beverage" perpetually
on the ilow. lie has rather imported the
more frugal fashions of the peninsula;
he throws his house open in tcrtulias ami
dances in place of giving dinner parties;
he oilers by way of refreshment the light
iced drinks which come like the nectar
of Olympus in the scorched palate when
the thermometer is standing at some?
thing like ninety odd; you have fragrant
coffee and chilly water, with azucarilos
ami salvers heaped with fruits that are
fair to the eye and pleasant, to the taste,
although death or disease may bo the
penalty of indescreet indulgence. The
harp ami the guitar and piano are in these
Cuban feasts, and there are unhealthy
white complexions, and eyes unnaturally
bright, and tigures which want of exer?
cise makes over-voluptuous or which are
somewhat waisted by a climate that dries
the blood in the veins. But the pco
takc thought for the morrow even less
than in Jamaica; for, although not much
given to thinking, there is a vague im?
pression on them that the future is abso?
lutely uncertain. There may be a few
who under the strength of that impres?
sion, wisely make up their minds to be
content with a competency, more than
they arc ever likely to want?and then
to go home. But, as a rule, they rind it
difiicult to stop when they are busy in
the pursuit of wealth, and when every?
thing is going ou prosperously. So they
stay on. with the idea that Cuba is not
their home, but only a place of temporary
sojourn, persuading themselves that they
mean to return some day with a fortune
to end their lives in old" Spain. All the
time they are probably conscious that the
temptations to linger where they are will
always be too strong for them; they will
drop out of existence some sunny day,
very likely when they least expect it.
Yellow fever, cholera, and the terrible
comtto pricto arc the scourges of the
island. Malaria, in all its most malignant
shapes, lurks in the richest di>tricts; in
Havana itself the town is wretchedly
drained, and the fresh breezes from the
sea blow over the mango swamps, or are
tainted by the decaying abominations
that strew the beach. So life in the cap?
ital is marked by a certain recklessness
and an utter indifference to the morrow.
The municipality pays no attention to
sanitary arrangements. Wealth elbows
poverty; palaces rise in the most squalid
quarters, and many of the must imposing
houses are whited sepulchres.
About Women.
Helen, of Troy, was over 40 when she
perpetrated the most famous elopement
on record; and as the siege of Troy last?
ed a decade she must have been quite
elderly, when the ill fortune of Paris re?
stored* her to her husband, who is repor?
ted to have received her with unquestion?
ing love and gratitude. Pericles Wedded
Apsasht when she was and yet after?
ward, for 30 years or more, she held an
undimiiiLshed ' reputation for beauty.
Cleopatra was past .'10 when Antony fell
under her spell, which never lessened
until her death, nearly ten years after j
and Livia was 33 when she won the heart
of Augustus, over whom she maintained
her ascendancy to the last. The extra?
ordinary Diane" de Poicticrs was 30 when
Henry II, of France, (the Duke of Or?
leans* and just half her age) became at?
tached to her ; and she was held as the
first lady and most beautiful woman at
court up' to the period of the monarch's
death and of the accession to power of j
Catherine of Medici*. Anne, of Austria,
was 8$ when she was the handsomest
Queen of Europe, ami when Buckingham
ami Richelieu were her jealous admirers.
Ninon de l'Enclfis, the most celebrated
wit and beauty of her day, was the idol
of three generations of the golden youth
of France, and was 72 when abbe de the
Bcrnis fell in love with her. A rare
combination of culture, talents, ami per?
sonal attractions endowed their possessor
seemingly with the gilts of eternal youth,
liiaitca Capelle was 38 when the CS rand
Duke Francisco of Florence fell captive
to her charms ami made her his wife.
Louis XIV wedded Mine, de Mainteuon
when .she was -IS years of age. Cathe?
rine If. of Russia, was 33 when sin
seized the empire of Russia and captiva?
ted the (hushing young Orloff. Up to the
time of her death (at 67) she seems to
have retained the bewitching powers, for
tho lamentations were heartfelt among
all those who had ever known her per?
sonally. -Mile. Mars, the tragedienne
only attained the zenith of her beauty
ami power between 40 and 15, when the
loveliness of her hands ami anus especi?
ally was celebrated throughout Europe.
Miiie. Uccaniier was ?S when she was
without dispute .declared to be the most
beautiful woman in Europe, which rank
she held for 1"> years.
RESULT OF WAR.?Since the historic
period, 14,000,000,000 of human beings
have fallen in the battles which man has
waged against man. II' this amazing
number of men were lo hohl each by the
hand, at arm's length, they would extend
over 14,000,523 miles of ground, and en?
circle the globe ROM ti nics. If onlv the
forefingers of every cue of these were
laid in a straight line, they would reach
more than 600,000 miles beyond the
moon ; allowing a person nineteen hours
a day. at the rate of 0,000 per hour it
would lake one person330 years to count
them.
? George Washington couldn't tell a
lie, ami that's what ails the average
Viekshurg boy. The other day. when
one of them accidentally broke a pane of j
glass in a store window, it was touching
to see him walk bravely into the store
and up to the merchant, ami say: "Mr.
I'.lank. 1 broke a pane of glass in the
window there, ami you can put it lo the
old man's account! Put it down as a
pound of salcratus ami he'll never know
the difference!"
? A philosopher assorts thai the rea?
son why ladies'* teeth decay sooner than
gentlemen's i ? because of the friction of
the t mguc ami the swcctuCSS of the lips.
Regions Where it Never Rains.
Outside the zone of periodic winds
and rains conies a double belt, one gird?
ling the world in the northern and'the
other in the southern hemisphere, the
breadth and area of which are greatly
modified by local circumstances, within
which no rain falls. TheseJbelts are es?
timated to include altogether aud area of
5,000,000 square miles,"" but it is impos?
sible to make any calculation that is at
all precise, because round the tracts that
are entirely rainless are regions in which
rain falls but rarely, which again pass
gradually into the two rainy zones,
through countries like Southern Palestine
and the Gsiugetic plain, which, though
usually rainy, are liable at intervals to
years of drought. These belts of rain?
less land near the tropics contain some
of the most hopelessly dreary country
which the world can show. Reginning
wit Ii the west of the old continent, we
have along the Tropic of Cancer in Af?
rica the .Sahara, or Great Desert, on the
southern border of which the rains cease
at l(i degrees north latitude and begin
again on the north at 28 degrees. Pass?
ing farther cast the southern raius cease
in the countries on the banks of theXile,
between \S degrees and 10 degrees, and
the northern begins between 27 degrees
and 2S degrees. Passing into Asia there
is a great rainless tract in Arabia of
which we do not know the exact bounds,
and it reaches through Heloeuistan over
into the delta of Indus, where it does not
cover more than four degrees of latitude.
From this point the rainless zone turns
to the northeast and extends to thirty
degrees north latitude. Crossing the
great Himalayan chain it includes the
high table-land of Thibet, but does not
appear to reach into the Chinese Empire
In South Africa there is a sandy, desert,
rainless tract on the north of the Orange
River, between twenty-four and twenty
eight degrees south latitude, and a great
part of the interior of Australia seems to
ne nearly or quite rainless. In North
America the rainless belt includes the
California Peninsula, and extends round
the northern end of rhe Sierra Madre
chain past Chihuahua and Monterey to
the shores of the Gulfof Mexico between
latitudes 24 degrees and 2? degrees. In
South America it includes betwen lati?
tudes 23 degrees and 27 degrees the
northern province of Chili, and, through
an extensive low tract in the interior of
the continent belonging to the territory
of the Argentine Confederation, rain is
very unfreqnent and small in quantity.?
Popular Science Monthly.
Religion of Our Presidents.
Washington was a vestryman in the
Episcopal Church.
Adams was a member of the parish in
ISraintree. His attendance at worship
was not very constant.
Jefferson was an avowed skeptic, and a
devout follower of Dr. Priestly.
Madison and Monroe were moderate
churchmen.
John Qnincy Adams was a Unitarian.
Jackson joined the Presbyterian church
after he left office. He paid close atten?
tion to the sermon, ami made a profound
bow to the pulpit as.he retired.
Van Buren was trained in the Reform?
ed Dutch school, and attended the Epis?
copal church when he attended any.
Harrison cared very little for religious
matters.
Tyler was loose in regard to Sunday
and worship.
Polk, though not a professed Christian,
was a regular attendant at public worship
in the Presbyterian church. He occu?
pied the pew opposite the ouc Jackson
s.it in.
General Taylor seldom ever went to
church.
Fillmorc, more than any other of the
Presidents was an open and decided
Unitarian, lie gave his influence and
support to that sect.
Pierce attended the Presbyterian
church every Sunday morning.
Buchannan was a Presbyterian. Ho
walked to church ; went up the aisle in
a shuffling gait; dodged into his pew.
and seated in the corner, seemed wrapped
in his own thoughts, paying no attention
apparently to the service.
Lincoln attended the Presbyterian
church once a day.
Grant is a trustee in the Methodist
church.
-m ???
Fbvkr Dust.?Dr. Luton of Rheims
states that for the last four years he has
treated typhoid by an absolute water di?
et. Nothing but good fresh filtered
water, occasionally iced, is permitted to
be taken. At first, he says, it is taken
with avidity, then in moderation, and at
last.with signs of satiety; it is sometimes
vomited at first, but is soon tolerated-; at
the beginning of the treatment the bow?
els may be a little relaxed, but they soon
become moderate and less offensive, and
after a lime constipation may ensue.
The duration of this treatment depeuds
upon flic progress of the disease; thatis,
between four and live days of water ex?
clusively may be required, if the fever
lu treated as"a whole, but three or four
days suffice if only the intestinal element
of the disease he considered. A light
alimentation may then be allowed?milk,
unboiled, may be mixed with the water
and given by spoonfuls, and if well sup?
ported for a lime, to be followed by broth
ami soup. Under this treatment the
mortality is very low, no evil results
ensue, and serious complications, inclu?
ding visceral congestions and bed sores,
at once disappear.
Tub Property of Small Farmers.
?We have often had occasion to call at?
tention to tlu fact that those we are accus?
tomed to call "small fanners" are gener?
ally the most prosperous people in the
South. They are not so because small
farms and very limited operations are, in
themselves, best, but because these far?
mers are working in harmony with their
circumstances. They have accepted the
situation, and put their own hands to
the plough. Having small capital, and
often very limited knowledge and skill,
they go safely, as they see the way clear
|y before them. The largo planter, on
the contrary, often without any capital at
all of his own. attempts on borrowed
money (at fearful high rates of interest,)
to conduit large operations, without
closely counting the cost of risks, and
fails, as any sound minded man, not in
fatuated with cotton would see that ha
must. This does not prove that small
farms and small farming .".re necessarily
most profitable, but that our operations,
both as to method and to extent, inus.
correspond with our capital and other
circumstances.?Rural Carolinian.