thß BEDFORD GAZETT& PUBLISHED EVEKV FR IDA V MORNIN.R * B v "• r .. tb following terma, to w,t, -1.50 per annum, CASH, in ailvam;G. 0 Q << << if paid willijn.the y,ear. * 2 ' << it not paid within the year. jg.so su bscnption taken tor lea* than.aix months. (tf-No paper discontinued until all arrearages d nnlesa at the option of the publisher, it * r ' seen' decided by the United States Courts that k " a newspaper without the payment tb arrearage". '* r rima f atie < ' vi,len( ' e 01 frai "' aml , criminal offence. rry-The courts have decided that persons are ac table for the subscription price of newspa- C ° U | if the) take them from the post office, wheth r.'h'ey subscribe for them, or not. oviß in a I yo 11 Vy : ' NATURE'S SIMILITUDES. BV P ? ? ?] All nature has its kindred forms, Its stars and worlds relations are; The ocean's kindred to its storms, The earth is kindred to each star. Each flow'r that feels the morning's breeze Doth mingle fragrance with the air; The land is kindred to the seas, In shapes both hideous and fair. The hills and valleys are allied— Tho' mountains frown on vales below— They lie congenial, side by side, Beneath the skies that o'er them glow. I The brook is kindred hi the spring. The streamlet to the river's How; The lakes the ocean's dirges sing. O'er each the ships sail to and fro. The eagle from his lofty flight Stoops back to earth to rest his wing; And gazing from his craggy height Hears little warblers sweetly sing. The mighty oak, in lofty pride, Stands monarch of the forest trees; And vet, the woodbine by its side Climbs up the trunk to kiss the breeze. The lion with his kingly strength, Oft lets his 'vengeful anger calm, And in the sun doth stretch his length, Beside the tiger, or the lamb. And thus all nature is allied In form, in lineament and love; Its golden cords stretch far and wide Through earth below, and sky above.— And what is man to nature's scenes— The earth, and sky, and flood and field.'— lie's monarch of the ocean wave, The land to him its fruits must yield. lie hears the image of his God, And angel forms around liiin glow: He's kindred to the courts above And monarch of the world below. Rocks, hills and dales, his brothers are : And mountains, with their peaks of blue, Join seas, and sky, and moon afar To lift him up to heaven's view. And so all nature shows its ties, From God ateve, to man below— On heaven's plains love's fountains rise, Throughout the universe they How. v 1 From Once a H'ffC HOW NED SMITH WON HIS MEDAL. A STORY OP THE COItNISII WRECKERS. Some dozen years ago,- before the railways now throbbing like arteries through the land, were in existence, I went with two friends to lodge in Cornwall. The place was the most re tired I ever saw, far removed from the cross country road, and only reached by venturing o ver a track-—for it could not even be called a path—winding along the edges of dills often two or three hundred feet above the teach, it was a place to delight all whoso fortune had car ried them within sight of it. The southern end of the bay closed in a stoop slope of living green, caused by a landslip, in which the turf had slid down like a veil to hide the ruin it left behind, ofwhieh nothing was seen from the beach but a back ground of tow ering rocks. Like some old Norman castle, we fancied them still resisting step by step the ad vance of deenv. It was near this southern point that the traces of former lawless doings were still to be seen. A small hole apparently only a fox den, led into a cave where a thousand kegs of French brandv had often been stored in a single night. We were anxious to learn whether the tales we had heard of Cornish wreckers were true, and it was some questioning on this subject which drew front the old miller tin 1 following story: "1 can't say I never hecre of such things, but I never seed no such doings invselt. I have liv ed here, man and boy, these seventy years," lie said, "manv and manv's the night we've been watching on these bleak dills lor a chance to help the poor creatures as had only a frail plank I pet ween them and death. Scores of lives Ive seed saved, but never one took; no, not even the brute beast, that came to the shore from all the multitudes of wracks I've seed. lam not going to say that when the ships, poor things, are till broken up and the timbers come ashore —I'm not clear to sav, there is not some small matter as never get" reported .o the kipg's man. Little I blame those, that take it, for, as the Lord above knows, I believe it is more tho. fault ot those that keep back the honest dues for the salvage. "I remember in the. time that barwood," and he pointed to some pretty things made by his son, of the bright colored logwood, "was com ing in. There, was those as worked night and day, landing it, and after all their toil they want ed to pav theni off with just a quarter of what was the right money. So if they that arc so well off try to cheat like that, I'd ask your hon or if it is not setting an example to the poor ? "There's Ned Smeeth, now—lie has go) (bat fine medal from that grand place up to London— I am sure, ho is as tender hearted as a child, hut you'll never make him believe there i f s any sin in taking a stray baulk or two the tide brings in, and nobody owns; while after he'd been work ing for a whole week they wanted to pay liiin with a little more than nothing. That's what I ■call Mealing! "Rut my old head is forgetting the story. Well, well, you must please to excuse it. It docs make my blood teil to hear such falsities. "'Twas seven years last November—l mind it well—me and Ned were standing as your hon or nnd mc is now, by my old hut here. It was a hitter night of weather, and was so dark we (•ould not see even the clouds of foam that kept dying in our faces. I'd just put the mill a go ing with some barley, and was minded to lie. town for a nap, (for you see T always wake when voijiiie as. NEW SERIES. Iho. corn's down, and so.don't trouble about tlie mill,) when I thought I heard a gun. I could not make sure, for the wind was lashing the waves mountain high, and the rake of the beach was most enough to stun a body. Suys I to, Ned, "Ned, you're a more sprv man. than me, just take a look out to sea. Well, he'd not gone but a step or two when the report came again full and true, and even my old eyes could see the flash. 1 stepped up and turned off the water, and Ned and me went and called up the neigh bors. 1 sent a boy on horseback to Trobftrfoot to bring more help; and getting the ropes and things we should want if any thing could he done for the poor creatures on board the distressed ship, we went to the point we thought she would strike on. We had no help from our eyes, but were guided by our knowledge of the wind and the tide. . "It might he about five, or between that and six o'clock, when we got to Saltstonc. We could not stand against the wind, hut were obliged to lie down on the edge of the cliff to try to dis cover the vessel. It.seemed a whole night, tho' I suppose it could not be more than an hour, tefore we could sec or hear anything mora than the flash of the gun and the roar of the winds and waves. After a hit we touched hands, and went back to a more sheltered place to talk over what was best to be done. Some were for light ing a fire to try to guide them into Widemouth Kandbay, but 1 knew 'twas no use, for 1 was sure the vessel had not a rag of canvas standing to help her helm even if the helm itself was yet serviceable, and so she could never make a reach to clear Headman's Corner, and might miss the only clmnee of running into deep quiet water near the Cupboard Rock. "All at once, while we were doubting what to do, we hoard a crash and cry, such as only a stranded ship and the perishing souls on hoard of her can make. Ah! you talk of Cornish wreckers—lmt there \yas wet eyes among us then, and men's hearts that never knew fear, fluttered like leaves on the lime tree. "We stood right above where.the vessel struck. Sheer it]) from the teach—we measured it after wards—4wo hundred aud fonrteen feet. A mouse could not have found footing down that cliff, and as it was within an hour of high water, no help could come to them poor souls but by letting some one down from the place where we stood. "The dim light of morning just enabled us to seij each other, and the white line of the shore waves. Some thought they could six; the wreck; I cannot tell if it was so. For certain we could hear now and then, fainter, and fainter and faint er, the cry of mortal man, "I can't stand this no longer," says Ned, at last. "I can't stand here in health and strength, with my two hands idle, while they poor crea tures, are teuton to death against the very rocks we stand on. Hear a hand, here—l'll go down this place." "We stood like men blind and deaf for a min ute, and then all tried to persuade him out of it, for we thought it was certain death. The rope, most likely, would be cut through, fraying over the cliff, or the vyind l might dash him with fatal force against the rocks, lint nothing would stop him ; ho knotted the rope round his waist, and, taking a short gaff in his hand, stood ready to slip off. lie turned a moment, and, savs he: "Give in)' love to Mary and the Children, aud it' 1 don't see them more, don't let them come on the parish." "He shoook hands all round, and then step ped off, and in a moment he was hanging all his weight on the rope we held. "For God's sake, lower away," he cried; "I see them." "We saw them, too, for God rant the black clouds, and looked through to see that noble deed. Tn the east there was a space of clear sky, thro' which a stream of light fell on the scene tefore us. An awful scene it was. The ship was bro ken to pieces, and with every turn of the waves her timter? tossed and whirled, and among them were the sailors—some past help forever, and two or three still striving hard for life. "dust as Ned touched the teach, one man was swept out from the. narrow ledge they were try ing to hold on to, with even' third or fourth wave breaking over them. The man Ned came to first was just such another for height and strength as himself, and we held our breath with terror when we saw liy his actions that he was (as is often the case) driven mad by bis danger, and was struggling desperately with the only limn who couhl save him. For full five minutes they wrestled together. Sometimes we thought of pulling Ned up, and so making sure of him; for it was a hard choice between the poor dcrtientcd stranger and Ned's young wife and three little children. Rut then tho water led them once more, and we saw Ned had him down with his knee on his chest, and we, knew if the tide gave him time lie was his master. So it proved. lie whipped a turn or two of rope round his arms, and catching tight . to him with his left hand, gave the signal to haul away. "They had barely left the rock—for we pull ed easy at first—when the whole keelson of tho vessel was thrown against the very place they had stood upon. We had them in our lift, how ever, and if the weight lia,d-teeii twice as much, it would have, come to grass if the rope held. "We were all too busy drawing thorn to look to seo what happened on tho way. I hold it as Bible truth that there's scarce another man but Ned would have brought that sailor up. He had, as I have said, one arm around him, and with the other, warded himself from the sharp fare of the cliff, but he had some grievous brui ses for all his courage and strength. "When the man found himself lifted up in that strange way, he got more raving than ever, and finding that lie could not use his hands, lie fixed his teeth in Ned's check till they met. For all the pain and danger, Ned held on, nnd I shall never forget to my last hour what I felt as wc drew them in over tho ledge of the cliff, and knew they were safe. "Poor Ned! we laid him in a sheltered place, Froedom of Thonght and Opinion. BEDFORD,PA., FRIDAY MORNING, MARCH 7, 1862: nnd would have put the stranger with hint, but we soon fouud he was too wild to lie trusted free, so we bound hint for his own saiety. '•ln a few minutes after they were landed Ned's wife came. We hod sent a hoy for spir its anil things, and he, youngster-like, told what Npd was about. None who were there will ev er forget that fair young thing as she fell on her knees by her husband's side, and swooned away with her head on his la-east. "Ah, the man, that had just braved such dan ger, wept like a child as he smoothed tho golden hair of his wife. "As weak as a child he was, too, from loss of blood. Well, other women came soon after, and bound up their wounds, and then we got a cart and brought them down to my house. "Eleven men and three hoys were the crew of the Ilesperus, as the ship was called, and only that one ipan saved. lie lay for days—very quiet at last—and scarce spoke a word. What he did say was about his mother, and tho name of some young woman. When west ripped him —by the doctor's orders—we found a little pack et hung around his neck by a black riband, and as it was wet with the salt water, we took it n way to dry. .My wife who tended him more than the rest, said he seemed to keep groping for something in his lxisom, so she put it hack again; and when he found it there all right, he never strove to rise and call out as he did before. It is not for me to say, but my old woman al ways considered that packet to hold some true love token. S)ic often said she wished she knew, for she thought how glad, his mother and sweet heart would be to know he was qlive. "Well, he went on in that strange way nigh on three weeks, and we did not know so much as the name of the sick man. Just as Nod was going about again all well, we thought the sight of him might bring the sailor to his recollections. Ho Ned went and sat by the bedside till he a woke. It was getting near Christmas, and ho wanted the poor man to lie well enough to en joy the. time with us. When lie opened his eyes, Ned held out his hand, and says he: "Giveyou joy, comrade. Ay, I sec you'll be more than a match for me next turn we have, particularly when.'tis grass we stand on." "With that the tears came into his poor, dim eyes, and catching Ned's hand, he said : "I remember now. Were none saved but me?" "Ned was fearful to tell the truth, in case it might make him worse, so he just laughed, anil said; "You've teen so long sleeping off the effects of your wetting, that they've gone and left you. But, 'tis time we knew your nnmo, stranger, if it please you to tell." - "Gascoigne," he said—"Richard Gascoignc. Has no one. written to my mother?" "How could we," says Ned, "as we did not know where she lived ?" "With that he got lip to come away, for he was afraid if he staved he'd tell himself about his shipmates, only three of whose bodies were ever found. "He'd-just got to the door when the poor man wanted him to come back, hut before lie could turn about the parson came into the room, and Ned. got away. "We never knew the particulars for certain, hut always believe, to this day, the young man, was no common sailor. "The parson used to come ami sit with him hours together, and a line lot of letters they wrote tetween them. Hut we were never the wiser for any of their scholarship doings, hut in one tiling, and that won't be forgot round here for many's long day. "The Christmas day we were all standing n liout the church door, shaking hands, and wish ing each other a merrv Christmas and a happy New Year, when the liitlr gate that led from the parsonage lawn into the church-yard opened, and a lady came among us, so beautifully dress ed and so beautiful herself that we all stopped talking to look at her. "I'm before my story, though, for I should have told you the stranger had gone to the par sonage as soon as he could he moved. "Well, the lady came forward into the midst of the crowd, and she said: "Which of all you brave kind men is Edward Smeoth "Ned was just behind me, and seemed ready to slink away, hut I pushed him fore, and said I: "Kit please your ladyship, that's him,' "Well, Ned knowed manners too well to run away then, so there he stood, blushing like a girl. "The lady took his hand, and seemed going to make a speech ; but she had only just begun her thanks when her. heart rose in her throat,and the tears stood in her eyes, and she only said, 'God bless you ! and put a little box into Ned's hand, and then kissed his great rough hand as if had been a baby's face. Ned seemed struck all of a heap. lle looked at the things she hail giv enjiim, and turned his hands as if lie expected to see a mark where her teautful lips had touch ed. "Well, as the lady could not speak for her self, the person up and told us all the sense of it. How that there was a grand place up to Lou don, with a grant many grand people, who sub serited among them to reward them that saved life. "And proud," says the parson, 'proud I am that such a token has come into my parish.' He said many kind and good words, and then ! told Ned to open the little box and show what I was in it. There, sure enough, Was a beautiful I medal with Ned's name, and the name of thcm,an j saved, and some Latin words, which the . par-1 son said was that we should never givo up trying j to save life, for perhaps a little spark of hope might yet remain, though all seemed gone. "Ah 1 here comes Ned, he'll be proud to show your honor the medal." So we walked into Ned's cottage hard by, and were delighted to find that, though seven long years had passed—years that had robbed hint i of his fair young wife, and laid her, with her new tern babe, in an early tomb—his dark eyes would brighten, and his fine form looked taller, as he exhibited that well-earned medal, from the Royal Humane Society. THE FOLLY OF EMANCIPATION- There is 110 infatuation less able to stand the scrutiny of reason and common sense than that which believes negro emancipation would con tribute to the suecess of our arms, or the res toration of that fraternity without which peace could not te ]x>rmanent and lasting. The a doption of such a policy as this, in obedience to the clnmor of anoisy faction of Abolitionists who have teen the worst enemies of our do mestic peace for the last thirty years, would divide the Northern people, now substantially nnited in fighting for the Union under the Con stitution, demoralize the army, produce discord anil contention, and force upon the country a question far more embarrassing than the slave question—namely, the negro question. 'The e inanci]iti?:on of the slaves, instead of conclu ding our domestic troubles, would only re-com mence them in a more embarrassing form. The negroes of the South have now a fixed status sanctioned by the Constitution; and there is no reason why we should trouble our hends about them one way or the otter. They can do 11s little harm as slaves, and no good as freemen. Our policy, therefore, is to prosecute a vigorous war against retellion, without wasting our strength upon foreign and extraneous issues. Should the Atelitionists carry their point and drive the Abininistration into issuing a de cree of universal emancipation, the effect, if any, would be to force upon our immediate at tention the question, what shall be done with the negroes. ' But while the retellion lasts wc do not be lieve that a decree of emancipation would have even this effect. It would only divide the North and embitter the South during the prosecution of the war, rendering its result more doubtful than it now is. The Government would he enfeebled by the utter annihilation of the Un ion sentiment still prevalent in portions of the Southern States; the war would assume the character of conquest or extirpation on one side and resistance to the death on the other—and if, in spite of these obstacles, it should termin ate in the entire subjugation of the rebel States, of bringing to us peace and- quietness, it would find us in our exhausted and impoverish ed condition, with four millions of negroes on our hands to protect aud provide for. Tlioy j couM-never assimilate with the population ujvon terms of equality—never be made citizens of this nation; and the Northern people would have either to bear enormous taxation for the purpose of colonizing them, or contribute to their support as free and idle vagrants. | A nation so extensive and diversified in its I interests as ours can never te governed by nar -1 row theories. Our sympathies must lie as bound , less as the continent, and our toleration as ex ' pensive. The Fathers of the republic in their wisdom comprehended this grant truth when they formed a Constitution adapted to ull parts of the country —a Constitution enabling the New England States, tutfl the Southern States to live under, one Government,, without compelling uniformity in their domestic institutions. And it is because infatuated men in both sections have sought to force their narrow sectional views up on the whole country, that we are now plunged in the horrors of civil war. The Abolitionists of the North and the Secessionists of the South arc the graai criminals who. have embroiled a whole people in fratricidal strife ; and, until lliey are both extirpated, we cannot hope for peace. The extreme opinions of neither of these | incendiary factions can ever govern this country in jicacc. We can never all become Secession ists, or all Atelitionists. Our only safety is to abide by the tolerant and comprehensive princi ples of the Constitution, which arc alike remo ved from both extremes. If the Union is to be preserved, the Southern man must lenrn to live in peace with the New England Yankee so long ns lie rcndeiH his vagaries harmless by confining them to his own territory ; and the New Eng land man must learn to tolerate the most extreme typo of pro-slaveryism so long as it keeps with in Constitutioual limits. Upon any other ba sis than this —the original foundation of our Government —we can never expect that a peo ple inhabiting a continent, and differing in ori gin, institutions, mental characteristics and edu cation, will ever live in harmony. If one sec tion determines to impress its peculiar ideas u pon the whole nation, and will abide no differ -1 enec of opinion—if, instead of a Union of c qual States with each exercising absolute con trol over its domestic concerns, the aim of the war is to render us a homogeneous people in every particular, we have indeed undertaken an j impossible task. But ns the. true purpose of the Government is restoration anil not alteration, | its success depends in a great measure, upon tho 1 fidelity with which it adheres to this great ob i jeet.—Emancipation would- be a fatal departure. —Patriot & Union. A WOMAN ELECTED MAVOR. — At a late elec tion in Oskaloosa, lowa, there was but one. can didate presented to te voted for. The "boys" did not like him and were hound to have an other candidate, and so, more in the spirit of fun than otherwise, they nominated Mrs. Nan cy Smith on the day of election, and to the as tonishment of everybody, when the votes were counted in the evening it was found that Mrs. Nancy Smith had twenty-one majority over the regular candidate for Mayor. est men among you for School Directors. Let no man, under any circumstances, slip into that important office, whose antecedents on the sub ject of our common school system are not, like Caesar's wife, "beyond suspicion." If you loee education, if you are in favor of discharging your duty to your progeny by having their minds properly educated, and thus rear monuments that shall bless your memory long after you ccasc to exist, you will do this. Although our country is torn by intestine strife, and every kind of business is more or less prostrated and paralyzed, yet we must not neglect the subject of education, wc dare not tear down the Tem ple of Learning, or like Samson, we will be crushed beneath its ruins. "Wc must edu cate ! we must educate," exclaims a celebrated writer, "or we must perish !" Bedford county compares favorably with her sisters, and the corjj.mpowealilj, in educational (hatters; and the common school system has in sinuated itself into the favor of a majority of its citizens to such an extent, that we doubt wheth er it could be easily uprooted. We apprehend no great danger, therefore, from the influx of a few antagonistic directors, but we don't want them elected because they are clogs to the wheels, and throw obstructions l>cfore tne"car of education" and impede its onward progress. Select men who are openly avowed friends of- the cause ; those who will appreciate the importance of their office, discharge its duties not for its em oluments—for there are none—but who love education for its own sake; and who will stand nobly to their work regardless of the few grum blers who shall see fit to oppose them. Do this, and you will have the consciousness of having done your duty in an humble but important ca pacity. ABOUT AN EXHIBITION. ' We had the pleasure, on the evening of the anniversary of Washington's birth-day, of being present at a school exhibition, in our neighboring borough, Bloody Run, with which we were particularly delighted. It was a joint affaif, we believe, between the Sabbath schools and the day school; the whole under the control of PROF. J. C. CI-AUKSON, the excellent teacher of that place, to whose energy and ability the performance owed its success. The proceeds of the exhibition were to be appropriated to the Lau dable object of procuring a library for the Sab bath schools of that phtpe. When we say that we were delighted with the. performances, we but ro-ccho the sentiment of every one who was present. Such propriety in selection of pieces; such tasteful arrange ment and consummate skill in ]>erformance we have seldom witnessed on similar occasions. Among the many pieces, the following wore gems, and elicited the approbation of tho au dience : "In the light/ fn the Light Was hington crossing the Delauxirc ;" "Death of Pulas ki;" and " Washington's Dream of liberty." The personification of the "Goddess of liberty" was exquisite; and the tableaux made more beauti ful pictures than artist ever conceived, or could possibly execute. Wc do not, generally speaking, approve of One Square, three WeeMor le**.,." . SIOO Ona Square, each additirnal insertion last than three months. ............ gj 3 MONTHS. 0 MONTHS, t fiat. One square ...... $2 00 $3 00 $3 00 Twosquares 3,00 500 000 Three squares 4,00 . 700 12 00 i Column S 00, 0,00 15 00 J Column 800 12 00 20 00 i Column 12 00 18 00 30 00 One Colnmn 18 00 30 00 50 00, The spice occupied by ten lines of this six* of type counts one square. All fractidns of a square under five lines will be measnred at a half square ; and a)l over five lines as a full square. All legal advertisements will be charged to the pefson band* ing them in. school exhibition?, because too many do not exhibit any thing particular except a super ficial acquirement, by which precious time has been wastod, and which is an injury rather than a benefit, but such as the one to which we al lude, are certainly commendable. If we had properly conducted exhibitions in connection with the examinat ions at the close of the schools, it would no.doubt hare a tendency to create a deeper interest in the public mind in the cause of education, A great deal can be done by the proper exertions of the common school teach er, to awaken that interest, and not a little credit is due Mr. Clark son for his efforts to build up the cause in his sphere of labor. The people everywhere will property appreciate such teachers. fcyThe following very good rules have lieer. adopted in a school room in Maine : No chewing tobacco in school hours. No kissing or squeezing tl>e girls in the entry. No snapping apple seeds at the master. No cutting benches with jack knives. No novels allowed to be brought to school bobjio wmTaniT lending. There seems to be some infatuation about a loan, esecially a loan of money. No sooner docs one man manage to extract five dollars from the pocket of another, and that other a long ac quaintance and a friend than astrangness seems to sit on the borrower's part towards the ben efactor, the one accommodated appears to con- peive a sudden and unaccountable dislike to the one who was willing to accommodate him and it is ten-to one if the man receiving the five dollars, does not very shortly, shun the one who loaned' it altogether and even go so far as to cut him dead when he does chance to meet him. There is a concealed perversity in human nature on this point, which is next to impossible to account for. Why it is that a man turns on his bene factor in this fashion, passes the reaeh of all or dinary comprehension. But not a few shrewd and dry individuals take advantage of this quality in the human character, to get rid of disagreeable and impor tunate acquaintances entirely. We know, a la dy who said she married her husband at last, just to get clear of him. He had bothered her more than half to death, probably, with his at tentions, and could not, or would not, sec that he was excessively disagreeable to her; and so she up and married him, to bring the matter to an end 1 It is exactly the same with men who are glad enough to lend others small sums of money, feeling pretty certain that they will be troubled with them no longer. The late Amos Lawrence, of Boston, once told a deserving young merchant who came to ask for assistance, that he would gladly give him the aid he required, if, when next lie saw his benefactor coming up, or down the street, the young man would not turn suddenly off up a by-street! It ap pears that Mr. Lawrence, therefore, understood the whole mystery of this business. Bnt stun it all up, there is no mistake that many a man is cheaply got rid of for an acquaintance, whom a loan of five or ten dollars is sufficient to make oblivious to one's existence, EFFECT OFTHE WESTERN SUCCESSES- The triumph in Kentucky has caused much dismay among the agitators in Congrats and the personal enemies of McClellan. begin to see that these victories are the effectual justifi cation of the general's schemes and their own condemnation. Koecoe Conklingtold the House a day or two ago that the victories in Kentucky were in his judgment largely due to the labors of the committee on the Conduct of the War! To a similar effect is the following from the Washington correspondent of the New York Evening Post: — "In other words, those members of Congress who urged speedy action in the field are to be crushed, if possible, with the very news of vic tory which comes from the South and West. It is but just to these gentlemen to state an un questioned fact—that the lute victories are owing almost entirely to the immense outside pressure which has been. brought to bear upon some of our leading generals. It is very convenient for some gentlemen to deny this fact, but the state ment is susceptible of proof." To prove this it would be necessary to show that the "outside pressure" completed the gun boats, manned them, brought down the ord nance from Pittsburg for which they had to wait, raised the rivers to the proper height, and thus rendered possible the movement which the army bus been so long waiting to make. A CHAPTER ON BOYS- Boys 1 What a world of frizzled heads, dirty faces, chapped hands, and crooked, toeless boots thissimple monosyllable suggests. Boys! living, moving institutions of mischief and sport! Crea tures, who run, tumble, scratch, bite, scream, chatter, and hammer their way through the world with the greatest possible impudence and nonchalance. They are the tilings which so worry the dignity of Old Ferule, who tries tq keep them in rows, but fails, for they are like crooked pins—can't l>o kept straight. They turn the house up side down, keep a continual uproar in the streets, batter things every w&f,' make life misery, and threaten to pull creation to pieces. They are all pervading. They are found in the woods, in the fields, in the streets, in the attic, in the collar, in the barn, in church in taverns and saloons, in stores and shops, on trees, under ground—everywhere ; and ever the same noisy, jostling, original being. They wwt not upon care, but away they dash upon their reckless train, apparently heeding nothing— lost in the giddy whirls of their sports—yet not a single move is mode, not a word is uttered by the Old Governor but their ready eye aud ear catches it and lays it up in their storehouse of incidents for future consideration.