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FISH CULTURE. Hints Regarding the Propagation and Breeding of Fish. Awn 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 fcwakencd 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, and 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 arc 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 free, every man feels him? self at liberty to exert his utuiost 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 Horn Pinehon, a French monk, who bred fish in wooden boxes having ends of wickerwork, 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 are 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 1804. Many years 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 fishways 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? cut 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 modux-opcrawli of fish propaga? tion has been frequently explained, but is not so extensively understood that a brief description of the process would be uninteresting to the readers of the Time*. The system is properly known as the art i? ficial "fecundation of fish spawns. It is f;encrally known that our fresh water ish do not reproduce their species in deep water, but ascend the rivers and small streams and branches as far as they 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 I'amilia* with gravelly "rjtlies" on which the fish de? posit their spawn at "shoaling" time, and has frequented those places for the pur? pose of spearing, shooting, or otherwise tapturiug the fish, which arc always in good condition at that season. This 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 brcediug fish. The female fish, as is well known, are. filled with eggs, which arc 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? ture of 78 dcgrrJes, and in seven days when the temperature is GO degrees. When the fish are 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 arc 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 Zcth Green. This box has a bottom of wire gauze, sustained in the water by two float bars fastcued at the sides at an angle with the top. It is anchored in the stream near the shore, in a gentle cur Dent that passes freely through the gauze and buoys up the eggs within. The fecundated ova, after the first formation of the fish is secu, may be transported without injury, if i>ackcd in moist moss in glass jars or tin boxes admitting the air, at a temperature from 5 to 10 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, and 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 wit h them. They are found in the Escambia and its 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 offish protection has late? ly received some attention in this locali? ty ; but St. Louis and Missouri are 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 in Daily Life. "Moral Courage" was printed in large letters and put as the caption of the fid 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 are poor and thus disarm poverty of its sting. Have the courage to tell a man why you refuse to credit him. Have the courage to tell a man why you 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 bear with his friend's infirmities, but not with his vices. Have courage to show your respect for honesty, in whatever guise it appears, and your contempt lor dishonesty and duplicity, by whomsoever exhibited. Have the courage l<? wear your old clothes until you can pay for new ones. Have the courage to prefer comfort and propriety to fashion in all things. Have, the courage In acknowledge your ignorance, rather than tu 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 thin distin? guished man will be rend with regret throughout the breadth of this land. Xo more remarkable figure has ever appeared upon the stage of American polities. lie 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. Xo 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 parties as accidents, concurring I 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 introduced him 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 Charlottesville that day. Just a few years before that occasion, he was passing through Charlottesville, 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, X. C, December 29, 1808. 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. His 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. 11., S. C, where he worked two years at his 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 then; a few months, when he wandered out to the \\rest, locating at Greenville, in Ea-t Tennessee. Here he married. From his wife he continued to learn the rudiments of an English education. Ho was elected alderman in 1S28, 1829 and 1830, then chosen Mayor, and served throe years. In 1885 he was elected to the Legislature, and took decided stand against a scheme lor internal improve? ments. This defeated him in 1837. In 1839, his views having been vindicated by time, he was overwhelmingly elected in lK4i>. He served as Presidential elec? tor in 1841. He was elected State Sena? tor in 1848, then to Congress, and served until 1853, when he was elected Governor of Tennessee, in au exciting canvass, which he was opposed by Gustavus A. Henry. Re-elected 1S55, beating Mcri dith P. Gentry. At the expiration of bis second term, he was elected United States Senator for a full term, ending March 3,18G8. 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. lie was elected in 1804 the Vice President of the United States, and became President by the death of Mr. Lincoln. During his Presidency, ho 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 polities, 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 he lived he would doubtless have gone before the National Convention. He made only one speech during the one session he served in the Senate prior to hfc death. This one contained a terrible and master? ly arraignment of Grantism, 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 hist race for the Semite, alter be had been in active polities for nearly forty years, and had occupied ev? ery office from Alderman to President, he was elected by the clamorous demand that came from all quarters, "to give the people a chance against the politicians." lie loved the people, and they loved him. The writer while sitting 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 in 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 future, lie would never again have deserted her. lie would have been her friend till death. As for his past, we should emphasize his virtues and as near as possible erase his lau I Is. We should remember him, when brought to the Presidency, by*a crime that had exasperated the country against the South, in whose behalf it was alleged to have been committed, he became her friend and stood like a rock, senseless in his sternness, between her and her ene? mies. We should remember that for the South's sake he threw away the easy sceptre of power, challenged the anger of a proud and 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 be 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 cxulta i 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 eoutrol of events, the eyes glaze under the touch of the grave, and the vision fades away iuto the 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 beyond the human capacity to sustain. His eager hand, just stretched forth for the glittering prize, falls powerless to his side, and Andrew Johnson is gathered to his fathers. At last he has "swung around the cir? cle" and is at re,st. He died as he must have hoped to die?in power and in hon? ors?beloved by his people and respected by the world. Let us hope that, as he closed the circle of his pilgrimage on earth, he had, as when lie 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 lk'lloy, is well remembered by many people in 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 first families of France. His name and title in full were the Marquis Ay mar do Belloy. He was a man of fine 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 hail previously led. He became acquainted with a handsome country girl from Michigan, with whom he fell in love. She was only fifteen years old, and, from the standpoint of the adventurous and high toned Frenchman, was unrefined and un? cultured. I Jut 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 bcon 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 tho 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 '.ook his own life, as is generally be? lieved, leaving his wife and six children in poverty. He hail an insurance of 810,0110 on bis life, which has never been paid, the companies resisting payment on the ground that he look his own life. A subscription among his associates on the board of trade realized SJ,000 or $2, 0O?, which was used to defray his funeral expenses, aud 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 fauiily 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 and comfortless as the willow 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 Geneseo, in this State, where she is now living in seclu? sion, and still pinched for means to make life comfortable. Thcstory thus far is one ofearly reckless? ness and 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 be written, and it is as romantic as anything in fiction, and it is true. In? telligence has just reached Chicago that the Marchioness Do Belloy, the mother of the. family and of the Chicago De Belloy, has died. The Chicagonti was the eldest sou of the family. All that is wauling now is for the proofs of ;i legal marriage, according to the American law to be 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. Consequently the marriage with the Michigan girl will be held valid, and not only do the lilies of the family, but one-third of the fortunes, descend to the widow and her family, now residing in Geneseo. The widow herself becomes a marchioness, holding the fame relative position to the family as 'lid the deceased marchiouess. The oldest boy becomes a marquis. The family is one of the mosl distinguished in France. Il dale-; back l<> the (Vtl sades. It has furnished (wo cardinals and two marshals Ui the nation. -Chicago Journal, ?/?'</ 27//'. Disraeli's Tribute to the Author of "CliHde 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, graceful and gentle hand all the phrased of Byron's career, and de? fended the poet while scarcely seeming to praise him. 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. Jle said : "Ladies and gentlemen?1 am happy to meet for the first time the members of 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 country, ancient or modern. [Applause.! Admi? rable for many qualities, fur their pictU resqneness, their wit, their passion, they arc most distinguished hy 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 auy other man ?not only admired in his own country, but reverenced and adored in Europe. lApplau.se.] How is it, then, that after half a century has elapsed, we arc 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 ellment 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 : uo man in this room?aye, I would sa_ :cn in this country?that upon that subject can pre? sume to give a definite and precise opin iou. [Loud applause.) But then, it was said as another excuse that his works were deficient 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 dere [ Applause.] If he fell, as ho Ull doubtly did, into many erroneous con? clusions upon divine subjects, it may be urged for him that he was very young. I Hear.] I remember once Lord Lyndhur-t disserting upon the character and career of Mr.Canning,and he then a-ko l 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 oo; why he was a mere boy." But wu must remem? ber that when Byron died he was 20 years younger than Mr. Canning, and in these speculations upon his character and his career, that element in that wonder? ful character and that marvelous career should never be omitted. It should be remembered that we are always on the life of one who, like those whom the gods love, died young. [Applause.] During these ?l) 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 iu Crecce can ever question for a moment the place of Byron as a poet of the highest class. He has impressed Iiis mind on that country moio than auy ether poet who has existed since Homer. There is not a capo, 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 find that 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 to one of the greatest of England's sons. [Hear, hear. I What form our feelings should take it will be for you in decide. You know, and you will know more as these proceedings continue, of what has been attempted. I can effectually apolo? gize for not having taken part in any proceedings, that my life is a busy and urgent oiie, and that i could only lend to the Committee the depth of my sym? pathy. But when I 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 tiieson-in-law of Byron?'[cheers]?who more than -10 years ago was my companion in that Al? bania which Byron celebrated. 1 felt that it was under the inllueiicc of kindly and able counsels. For myself, though 1 pre? sume not to dictate to this assembly what form their feelings shall assume ill this respect, 1. will express my individual de? sire to see in some public place a sem? blance of i his ?real spirit?I applause]? so that the English people when they pass shall recognize tone of the greatest masters of the English language. | Loud and long applause. | ? A very pretty Sunday school song is the one entitled, "But your armor on, my boys." There is, however, a young lady in town, who doesn't like to hear it. She says it sounds like "put your arms arounil me, boys/' and it alway? makes her feel lonesome. ? An exchange says: "A Rhode island man has invented a new lawn game. Thirteen girls kiss a man thirteen ; limes each iluiing the play.'" We wish j in goodness tin-y would introduce 1 lie I game here. Life in 1 he ''Queen of the AutJlc.?." The London Saturday Review says: It is the uncertainty that gives its marked character to life in Cuba, as elsewhere in the West Indies. Ii is not exactly the "let us eat and drink, for 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 t<> keep open house for all 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, und "beverage" perpetually oil the How. He has rather imported the more frugal fashions of the peninsula; he throws ids house open in tertulias anil ? lances 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 uzucarilos and salvers heaped with fruits that are fair to the eye and pleasant to the taste, although death or disease may be the penalty of indescreet indulgence. The harp and the guitar and piano are in these Cuban feasts, and there are unhealthy white complexions, and eyes unnaturally bright, and figures which want of exer? cise makes over-voluptuous or which arc somewhat waisted by a climate that dries up the blood in the veins. But the peo? ple take 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 are ever likely to want?and then to go home. But. as a rule, they find it difficult to stop when they are busy in the pursuit of wealth, and when every? thing i.; going on 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 comito pricto are 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 most 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 bat? 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 Apsasia when she was Sii, and yet after? ward, for 30 years or more, she held an undiminished * reputation for beauty. Cleopatra was past 30 when Antony fell under her spell, which never lessened until her death, nearly ten years after; 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 Poictiers was 3(5 when Henry II, of France, (the Duke of Or? leans* ami 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 id" the accession to power o!' Catherine of Medicis. Anne, of Austria, was .*1S when she was the handsomest Queen of Europe, and when Buckingham and Richelieu were her jealous admirers. .Ninon ile I'Enclos, the most celebrated wit ami beauty of her day, was the idol of three generations of the golden youth of France, and was 72 when abbe de the Bern's foil in love with her. A rare combination of culture, talents, and per? sonal attractions endowed their possessor seemingly with the gifts of eternal youth. Bianca Capelle was ?S when the Grand Duke Francisco of Florence fell captive to her charms and made her his wife. Louis XIV wedded Mine, de Mainteuon when she was 48 years of age. Cathe? rine II. of Russia, was 33 when she seized the empire of Russia and captiva? ted the dashing young Orlotl*. Up to the time of her death (at 67) she seems to have retained the bewitching powers, for the lamentations were heartfelt among all those who had ever known her per? sonally. Mile. Mars, the tragedienne only attained the zenith of her beauty and power between 40 and l?, when the loveliness of her hands and anus especi? ally was celebrated throughout Europe. Mine, llccamicr was 3S when she was without dispute declared to be the most beautiful woman in Europe, which rank she held for l? years. Result op Wau.?Since the historic period, I4,000,000,(KW of human beings nave fallen in the battles which man has waged against man. If ibis amazing number of men were lo hold each by the hand, at arm's length, they would extend over 14,000,C?23 miles of ground, and en? circle the globe fiOS times. If only the forefingers of every one of these were laid in a straight line, they would reach more than (?00,000 miles beyond the moon; allowing a person nineteen hour--, a day, at the rate of 6,000 per hour it would lake one person336 years to count them. ? George Washington couldn't tell a lie, and that's what ails the average Vicksburg boy. The other day, when one of them accidentally broke a pane of glass in a store window, it was touching lo see him walk bravely into the store and up lo the merchant, and say: ".Mr. Blank. 1 broke a pane id" glass in the window i Lere, and yon can put it to the old man's account! Put it down as a pound of salcratus ami he'll never know [he difference!" A philosopher asserts thai the rea? son why ladies' teeth decay sooner than gentlemen's i - b?v:mse of the friction of the t mguo ami the sweetness of the lips. Regions Where it Never Rains. Outside ilie 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. Thesebelts are es? timated to include altogether and 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 Gangetic 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 with 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 lti degrees north latitude and begin again on the north at 2S degrees. Pass? ing farther cast the southern rains cease in the countries on the banks of theN'ile, between LS degrees and l'J 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 Bclochistan over into the delta of Indus, where it does not cover more than four degrees of latitude. Prom this point the rainless zone turns to the northeast ami 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 interiorof Australia seems to be nearly or quite rainless. In North America the rainless belt includes the California Peninsula, and extends round the northern end of the Sierra Madre chain past Chihuahua and Monterey to the shores of the Gulf of Mexico between latitudes 24 degrees and 20 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.? J'ajjular Science Monthly. Religion of Our Presidents. Washington was a vestryman in the Episcopal Church. Adams was a member of the parish in Rraintree. 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 Quincy Adams was a Unitarian. Jackson joined the Presbyterian church after he let': ollice. lie paid close atten? tion to the sermon, ami made a profound bow to the pulpit as.he retired. Van Puren was trained in the Reform? ed Dutch school, and attended the Epis? copal church when he attended any. Harrison caved 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 new opposite the one Jackson s.U in. General Taylor *cldoin over went to church. Fillmorc, more than any other of the Presidents, was an opeu and decided Unitarian. He gave his influence and support to that sect. Pierce attended the Presbyterian church every Sunday morning. Ruchannan 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 mm* FkvkrDiet.?Dr. Luton of Rheims states tlitit lor the last tour 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 SOOll 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 depends upon the progress of the disease; that's, between four and live days of water ex? clusively may be required, if the fever be treated as*a whole, but three or four days suffice if only the intestinal clement of the disease be 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 time, to be followed by broth and 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. Tm: Property ok Smai.i. Farmers. ?Wo have often had occasion to call at? tention to the fact that those we arc 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 those far? mers are working in harmony with their circumstances. They have accepted the situation, and pot their own hands to the plough. Having small capital, and often very limited knowledge and skill, thev go safely, as they see the way clear? ly 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 conduct largo 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 are necessarily most profitable, but that our operations, both as to method and to extent, mus? correspond with our capital and other circumstances.- -Rural Carolinian.