The Anderson intelligencer. (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, August 12, 1875, Image 2
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.