U II VOLUME XIIL-NUNEER 30. YOU AND Y. You believe in women's love— And so do I; nut the difference is' this= You believe her honeyed kis4 Is an impulse of her heart; , I believe Willer heart: You believes sh 4 loves a-man— You fdr instance. If you can • Fool yourself to such a height Bhe will scorn you day and night= . And so will L You have faith in woman's faith— . And so have T ; But you fancy, she will keep Plighted vow and promiardeep; I, that oaths at midnight sworn Will be broken ere the morn: In her faith you think to dwell ; Buy a house for it to—sell; I rent "furnished," sure to move. You believe in faith and love= And so do I. You believe in woman's truth— And so do I; . 1 But the ditferciace is this : As with love, Mad faith, and. kiss, You believe, not that she's true, Abstractly But itrue to you; I, that as the diamond stone Gleams, but I:Ceps its light its own Woinan's faithful to—herself. But you adore Abe lovely elf— Why so do I. I "STAND MIKE Ay'y ANVIL !". "Stand dike like an anvil I"when the strokes Of stalwart strength fall tierce,,und fast;, li Storms but ore deeply root the oaks, .Whose br way aims embrace the blaiti "Stand like: la anvil 1" when the sparks r i ~. Fly far an wide, tt-fiery shower;' Virtue and truth must still be marks-, Where rnalize proves its want of powq. "Stand like an anvil I" when the bit.: Lies red and glowing on its breast; Duty shall be life's leading star, • And conscious innocence its rest. "Stand like an anvil I" V:lien.the sound Of ponderous hammers pains the ear ; Thine be the still and stern rebond Of the great heart that - canaot fear. "Statid like an anvil !" noise and itch . Are born of earth and die with time; The soul,. like God, its source and scat, Is solemn, still, sere' e, sublime.—Doan A Student's Advetrztuie. • Some ten years ;ago, I Spent. the -long vacation on the northwest of Antrim; nomewhat disappointed with , early failures and with myself, I affected the solitary. I tried hard at isle:A Y to set up the then 4inpossible character of foolish,: misan thropieal.old Tinton. I soon found ; how ; ever, the unpleasantness and impractica- Inlay of this. The wild precipices and Mountains * of the grand coast exorcised ray •demon, and the limitless, full Atlan tis, beating restlessly on ii - s - iron bounds, roused me to action. Presently I drop ped into the doings and crafts. of the rough fishermen and cragswen of the neighborhood,. and scon gaining ,their hearts by-some unusual feats, kacquired the Vigil character of being a " gay, yen tucsome unworthy fame. - .11.Iy rather confident address and cour pge, suchps they ‘sere, underwent a pe, culiar ,trial, where and. when I least ex pected. •I was livkg ih the vicinity of the cehtbrated swinging bridge, Carrick a-Rede„.,,The troons of world, visiting it,'retnin ded me of the from*which I was., after all, an unwilling exile. •The danger. of crossing the, bridge with, my dog and gun,, afforded some excitement. The glorious views of shore; sea and isles, . delighted Me ;- 'the deep :mossy heather on the headlands made a luiuri cus couch for dozing upon, under the Summer sun. • • One day from my favorite eyrie, I had batched a gay party descending the slope to the bridge, mixing and .changing the colors as they went ; like the view in a ka r leidescope. I could distinguish laughter and sweet voices pleasantly ringing -out, and I confess it needed the Folace of my favorite book and all my fortitude to•reti der Me COD tentain my solitude up among the seagulls. I resumed my lost place and stretched myself very comfortably on the moss of my tall, outstanding, pillar-like cliff, when suddenly my dog Tasso rushed close, to me, and fixed his big, dark eyes anxious ly in the direction of the bridge. We both trembled at that moment, for a• piercing scream smote us. The sea birds darted out from the rock face, and after a short, silent, flight outward, cried at their •shrillest and loudest. Could I be deceived ! It was surely Minim. It was _a woman's voice ! " Can it be," I thought, "some of them over the cliff." Grasping my gun, I rushed down the hill.as men only run to save life. Again and again, as I flew over the broken ground, I felt the same bitter cry, strik ing, as it seethed; into my very heart. A few bounds over the slippery sea grass along the edge , of the precipice, and I stood at the . head of' the ladder,.which led . down to the swingibg bridge. • Heavens, what a sight! Right in the midst of it was a yontic , fair-haired girl. :With her two arnitil • . -.' ' -----...... : 4.... " . **---11t- - ''. - .. : ' .1 :. ' . 1 .7 :. -. : ' 4.111141* .` ' . . I ' 1 i kt •I . , ' 4 - 4.- li k - , ;.,, , :„ , .49, , . .;,. ... ~ - .^ . 1 ; - I ' ' '' ---- N.„.......... ,; c -, . - 1... :. . ' • --, , ,t , '.:‘ 0 ' - iii - : ' 0 : :',., kr Hie ~.,!,,„. ._:0. ;,,..\,.. ~.. , • ~.,_,,:. I t , • i •' , - 1 . , ii- •.' ' .- ' 4l ' . I .. • , ' II ' I ' G - Q.. _" 4 ~ , .i• , ---.. •• , .... . -,,,,,,,-' • . :, • , , : • ii , - - ~ i • 1 - ~1,- ~; . , , . -•-.-1.1.-,-•••••- ,• - •• - - I _, ~,,-: ~ _ • - .. -.. ,_ white hands she desperately clutched the slender cord which the fisherinen used as a balance or gliide,; ;the pressure_ of her whole weight Grove it out from the float ing strip of boards on which' she stood, Sometitnes With her bands stretched out, she swayed, face down Wards, over the abyss, with itsithite ragibg waves a hun dred feet below, Sometimes the'wind and the double Oscillation laid her backwards, with her hands clenched upon that worth less cord, and her pale, sharp face strain ing upwards, as her :long hair streamed; pvinting dorm to the sea. The Bridge itself was shaking and swaying giving forth that -clank and moan peculiar to it in storms, Wreathing about like some ser pent struggling with the poor girls efforts. On the platform of rock beneath the lad- . der stood the rest Of the party, each in an attitulle of silent, horrified expectancy, incapable of the slightest attempt nt rescue. At a glance this never to-be-forgotten scene was all understOod. Another scream, another look of Wild, appealing, despair from the poor girl, and I was out upon the narrow plank. Urider the doub le motion the ropes shook and were de pressed so that I could scarcely walk. There was n 0 ,7 time to think or pause . . With rapid strides I came on. I could hear'her praying now. But I saw, also, that she was falt.lositig her consciousness; herl,cOurage and _strength had'given way under the reaction of hone; she was about to faint. I measured the: terrible vacan cy into which she was about to fall head long. I was prepared to abide the des perate plunge the bridge would give the moment that she dropped. In the Fast extremity of fear and hope, I shouted in a voice that stirred my own heart too , " Coiplige; brave girl courage for, one Moment more." Just then I was within:six feet of her, standing on six inclien wide of a deal plank that bent",like whalebone,! my, only hold was the loose cord skinning from rock to re*: across the gulf, below a black walled chasm of ru g ged rocks, with a dizzy whirl of roaring. foam 'between tiled]. Judge, then, my dismay and astonishment, when I saw this, girl, as I spoke', leave' hold of the liand -rope, and ,walki unassisted to ward'me along that narrow, shaking path hung out in sir. I could not, credit my senses, it was unheard of ;It Was too dar ing; it was impossible for any human being. 13efcrel could recover or decide how to not, she flung herself upon .nie,- hcilafins abbut: my neck, an her whole weight resting upon_ me like lead; I searCliTy — retained my blance, and I could not to relievemyself... I felt she wd's about to . faint : I fell thil, for her posititin I Could not nee; I knew no human power could 'save us if she did. Moved, then, by my own life as well as hers,.l whispered in that stern, strange, inward tone ; which arises in' the extreme, of anxiety or peril: I . ' If you faint or give way Fe are bOth lost !" The effect was wonderful. Bravely the poor, young, frail creature fought with her weakness, beating back the faintness there on that thin, cloaking plank, with the fierce eddies running far below, and their hoarse voices filling the wide air below us; with 'only one arm about her Waist to stay . her [ against the swaying ropes beneath. " Now, are you ready to try' it ? " " I am ready," said the brave girl. Gently, and gradually I loosened her hold of my neck and . arms; :I put thO hand rope in her grasp,'*with directions to let it slip through her hand, Merely resting on it as sbe walked, and with her left hand clasped in my left, which was stretched out behind for her to hold, inch by inch and foot by foot, without a sigh or flutter, she reached the platform, where her friends stond like statues, waiting us in brelthless awe. - I had only time to lift her i from the bridge when she gave way in - earnest, and for a long time she lay pale and rigid as a drowned corpse, on the black rocks. When symptbmsiof reedverY began to appear, her friends were profuse in their aoknowledgetnents ; one old gentleman-- the pater fantilias, I supposed—eyeing my rough shooting chat and worn lei4gings, began something about," any remunera• tiOn I could fairly ask," fumbling at the same time in his pocket. I fear I cop signed him rather abruptly to the tender care•of•a certain ,unmentionable personage, and in great dudgebn with "what I con ceived an insult, I called old Tasso from admirinc , and - nosing about the young girl I had assisted, and stumping up the ladder with:htm in my arms; .:(he could neveie climb up though he alwayS got down splendidly, poor fellow 1) . ; I reached the top. A sweet, faint voicefollowedlne: ‘ Oh, sir, I wish' to thank . yon." This sounded soothingly and real; but stay my hot, bashful, young blobd I could not. I diinly remember taking' ff my hat and replying wiih Many blushes :: // Not at all--don't mention it I bog," and Vmoved away% ,t)tyfeZ lo flie I,;iiipiples. of lii4o,ilcirloeholi, aro : 11 0 . _ : Zis$efi l irmihni of -o'9'hilig,'. F-iivtligN *lO COUDERSPORT, POTTER COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, JULY 18,1861.. I suppose you thinit the above named young lady is riow Mrs.—. It, should have been so, perhaps, butiOnver was, or is likely to be, unless she turns up and rewards me after this long delay. I never heard her name or anything of her be yond this adventure on the swing bridge; and as l am far out of the world's notice, it is improbable we will ever knout more of ma other. But let no one disbelieve on this 'ac count, the simple truth of our strunge meeting on Carrick-a-Bede, to wide]) I have added nothing. Albert Barnes at his Birth- Place. Rev. Albert Barnes, who has recently returned froth his native town, Rothe, N. Y., makes the following touching re flections. He is now about sixty-tivo I years old : ' " Alen pass off the stage. God 'changes their countenace and sends them away.' The old generation that lived and moved in . Rome sixty years ago, as everywhere else on the face of the earth, is gone. But nature is the same; and what was there then of earth and waters, of hills and running streams, is there still. The river—bright, clear, pure, on the banks of which the writer of this article first breathed the air, and looked upon the light of the sun—is there still„ and flows on as it did then. The old log house, then ready to fall, where life began,,has long ,since been removed ; but the fields are there; and even a few of the old trees, which stood in the days of boyhood, .re there still. The one-story, long, low red house, which was substituted in the plaee of the more humble log tenement, is there still. All who have arrived at a period of life when they can understand what it is to go back after ban century to the scenes of childhood, can appreciate tEre emotions with which a man of gray hairs and of advancini , years wanders along on the banksof such a river; stands on the spot where he : ,was born; walks over such grounds ; looks ou such ancient trees , sol- 1 1 Iraq, living memorials of the past, or, contemplates the old dwelling, the first of all houses in his ,recolleetions; the emo lions Which one feels as he pauses in these I solitary rambles, and reflects on what he :did in his bOybood, and strives to recall the views and anticipations of his• own early; years: Alas! he is alone. From that old habitation all who used to dwell there ' are gone forever. EVery, living thing that he ever saw there has goae= father, mother, brothers, sisters, arc all in the grave—and the waUderet is alone. No one can understand, except he . Who has experienced it, what it is for a man, to feel that all his own family are dead; the utter desolation of soul that comes over a man when he feels that he is the last of his family; that -none now stadd between him and the great ocean of eter uity,'on which he himself is soon to ear ; bark ; and that, of his own household, he how bas no one to be his companion as he moves on toward that boundless ocean: To the recolleetion of the writer of this article, no such feelinc , of utter desolation has ever ceme_ over the soul as was expe rieuced when be„ learned, in a foreign land, that the last of the family, a beloved brother, was also dead. Then bow little was there in a splendid capital to soothe the heart ! bow lonely and how desolate was the soul; though surrounded by the gayety and splendor of the most splendid city' of the world!" A late visitor at his tomb in St. Hele na writes :•" I turned away from' house and tomb, with deeper convictions than ever of ' the vanity of man as mortal.' Who would not And that death-room!, How the last words linger about it Which Napoleon uttered in it. from a crushed, and bleeding heart I General Bertraud,l I shall soon be in my grave. :.•!ucit the fate of great men. So it was with; th' Ccesars and Alexander. And I too am forgotten, and the 3larengo conqueror and Emperor is a. college theme. My ex ploits are tasks given to pupils by their tutor, who sits in ,judgments upon me, according to me, censure or praise. And remark what is soon to become of me. I die before my time, and my dead body, too, must return to the earth and become food for worms. Behold the destiny now at band of him who had been called the great Napoleon ! What an abyss between my great misery and the..eternal reign pf Christ, who is proclaimed, loved, and adored, and whose kingdom is extendin o c , over all the earth:" LIT Srour:—We are assured that once, in Seotland, a thrifty laird,' finding his store of etTga diminish, watched to see how the thieves could carry them' away. He saw three rats go together to . the pile Of eggs, when, one turning on' his bielc,the others rolled an egg upon him; which he clasped safely to his bosom, and his companions, taking his tail iu their mouths, started off like a . team drawing a sledge, and disappeared behind some bar rels; Which were the outei fortifications of their elide: Napoleon. . . _ Blessings of Disap p o intment. D BBC, THEO. L. CIIYI:tIt.. • Blessed be disappointment I said we to ourselves one eveninglas we sat enjoying the strawberries and cream at the table of a distinguished civilian. He was one of :the honored of the land._ A goodly group of "olive branches" were gathered around him. The sweet-voiced. wife at ,the head of the table had in her early days been affianced to an aristocratic youth of great wealth and promise,; but on the appointed day of their marriasche had eloped under circumstances of pcenliar baseness. What a disappointment: to' expectant friends and ambitions kinsfolk ! Bat the true hearted girl swallowed her tears of mor tification, and in fi t ting time gave her hand to a. sturdy ;village lad,, Rho has since carried her aShis wife to the Amer ican Capitol. She has lived to; see her, renegade lover reel t to the grave' of, the profligate. How lift edid sho know what a an escape God halo ened to her through the dark door , of dip ppointment. ; • . . We might =flip y,instances of like character from daily bservation.l A man hurries breathlesst the wharf; in order to reach a departing steamer. He is one moment too late! ' ihe plank is drawn;; , and as he watches t o stately vessel plow her way off throngh 'the blue writers, she seems to be, plotil g through his very heart. "How proviling," he 'exclaims to the half-smiling, half-pitying bystand ers. He goes home sulky; ;he retires, sulky to his bed; aowaks up to read in ' I i t the morning paper , that " a few hours after leaving port, t at steamer took fire, and when 111.4 - seen as floating on ,the' , water a flaming weck ?" •He fanpies himself clinging in : idespair to a sinking billet of wood, eh& • is very blood runs i cold when he thinks ; how near he at33e to being on board that Ideath-freighted ves sel. And yet the very nett, time that man is, thrown Out: by Providence from sonie favorite plan,he is slow to apply the lesson of the past an to thank his Iletri enly Father for a dis ppointment. . . We do not pretend to be a very apt learner, but many I:tf our, best lessons through life have beOn taught us by that same stern old schoolmaster, disappoint ment. And one le4son that we learned was that this f worqd was riot made only for us. If it had been, the sun would have , shone, just when our hay needed curing, and the' rain: would have fallen only when our gardchis needed to he wa tered. But we found that God went right on and ordered thing's as pleased him best, 'without consulting us. And 'when our: I scleines were thwarted, the stern schpol master, said, "The 'world was ' mot made for you alone Don't be selfish.. Your , loss perhaps is another's gain. ,' The rain that spoils your new-mown hay makes the' blade of corn to grow faster in your neigh-., bor's field. ,The fall in grain that cuts down your profits will help the poor wid ow in yonder cottagetobuy bread cheaper for. her orphan babes. ,So don't be selfish."' On a grandscale *e sometimes see, this lesson taught. r'hen a certain greedy self-seeker once clutched at the, empireof , the civilized world, stern disappointment met him in his ambitious path, flung a Russian snow-storm in his face, and out of the 'tiny snotJflakes wove a white shroud to wrap the Iflower of French chiv ' airy I Go back!, ge back I he cried, all Europe was not mode for you. The les son the .proud, usiir 4 per would.not learn at Aspern was taught? 'him in blcod and ag ony at Borodino, aid on the froteabanlis orthe Dnieper. ISO, 'too, have- we'' been taught in the defeat of our hurdler salmis and in the failure of our humbler plans—"Dop't be,iselhili ; God did . not make this world ell fur y0N..." This les son is worth all it Costs us. •• , 1 = 11. A second !lesson 'which disap pointment has tang ; i t us is that our losses are not only, gains to others, but! very often the richest thin to ourselves. In our short-sightedtignorance we, had "de vised a way," and Set our hearts upon it. Had we been' alloWed to. pursue It, we roust have been led! by it to ruin: God could not have sent a greater;judgment on us than simply ti) have let us have our own way. In a;, thousand instances we have seen' this made, true both iir thingS temporal and in thing,sspirituali 1,4 mer chant is thwarted, in' some enterprise in such manner as 6:excite his bitterest mortification. Bud the: far:seeing! God knows full well thak . , he has been saved from a lunch sorer *row. The pecttniary failures of 1857 mhde many a ru n' of business rich in tW 'priceless treasure of a Christian's hope. i It was a dark" door which disappointinelit opened during that calamitous year, lin at led tens of (hens: ands into the pathtay of heaven: I Per haps it will be seen ii , hat the black °lends of 1861 have a " sil er lining" yetka be unfolded. This - year's sad reverseal have already tandht seine men true wisdom; before the arp `teacher'is - dene 'rili , hi . l discipline he may c make them w uato salvation: I Mailtap these dines may reac, one Wli3 can recall' the ,remembri some earthly idol Which once hit high enlace in the temple of hey Mil MI tioni Her life was bound tip in the life of t.e bo. She worshipped him more 1 Oil she worshipped - her Savior, :At leng,h th trial came. Ini: terror end dis May she saw the/dolor fading out from that; heel of roses. iFaiater and fainter felt ' aeb. swee,t " gOed•Oight" from his fattening to g,tie. In her agony she oft cried out; 1" Oh ! God, let 'me not see the 2( dO4I/ oft e' child Ir' !And when the clithinutAil at last 14-mbtionless on the silent hp,er grief bOrst ont in David's Paskenato wail,—" Would God I had ht h 'died: or t ee, my Son', my,son !" .. !A4 length the first l ago . riy • has wept itself] - out, She haS comete 'herself. Almite all she has cOmO to . her Savior; add as she beholds howl •ungrateful was her, ittolattii—how her best affections had beepl i stolen from Christ4.L•aad how frail a reed she was leaning.oe, her trembling sent :leeks back With licioder to see from. what a pot.ure of guilt and peiil she has beep'deliv red. It is, not therefore only thelmelan(lholy pleasure Of knowing that liCri *air , hoper--plueked : away by the angel-reapers 7 --is now blooming in the fietds of •light which alOne sustains her, but the sense of'rescuel frour a state . of fearful forgetfulness of Chriseand of duty. She is . done With idols. IS - he never again will tet any earthly object have that cen tral: place .in her heart which a crucified SaVuirlad earned for.himself and hind:- self alone. . The record-book of every Christian life has. .some [such pages as these. Tears have' blurred and blotted the page dt the time. . But a,s youlurn over to that page noW, and read it ill > the I light of exceri enee 'youl cad Write; across it—Thank God ' or those losses; ?they : were my.., eter nalgain4thank God for bereavmeor.s ; the' have - aved my Soul from being be reap d of l hope of heaven ! " There," said a young man once, iris he pointed to a disi d ascd limb that Was destroying his lifc; "th re it is, an a Precious treasure it has bee tome. - It:saved inc from the follies of with ) • it nought me to this room i an and made 1 ... made me cleave to God; I think it bas . bieught me now Oiliest to my Fa ther'S.honSe on high." : - • G'dod +def., if you and I ever reach that ;Father's house, we.,will look back . and See that the sharf.44nguA, rough vis4red teacher Disappointment way _one of; our bet, guides to bring.us thither, Efe Often book us by thorny -paths. , lie ofteM stripPed us of our was of world ly pints 7 :but that. was only to make us travel the l freer , and .the faster on our heavenward way.' He Often led us into the vidley of the deafh-shadew ; but riever did the promises read so I scieetly to, us as , Wheiiireadby the light of faith in that very valley. l'hecrossof Christ was the point toward' which he oftenest made us look, and 'the' fo.Vorite . 'passage: he gave.'us for our eueonragemeat was, " All things work together for, good-to them thOt love God, to th m wto are the. called according to his ' urpOe." Dear old rough, harsh hand d teacher ! we Will build a monu ment to him yet, and liaof4 it with ear landi, -And on it we will write—Blessed be tit ' memory of DisnrikmVxmr..NT: 9b tpre, Ciimax.” We find the following gbing the rounds A Certain political speaker wds address• ins ad audience in Virginia, and descant. ino• vehemently against the proscription of b forieigiters, wired bi's •'eye fell upon a little 'Gernran Jew, a peddler of ready mada.clothing, who seemed very much impressed with the argument of the ora tor, kieedili swallorred§p every thing he uttered. This was toogbod an,opportu nity `d i et tobe made thelnost of, 1:1'd look lag the lit le peddler full in the eye, he ezelarmed r• i "Furriner,, did'nt you. came, to this country to T 3scape.from 13;rannical,; down trodden and oppressed yihrope . ? :Did'nt you Se to these happy Shores tolive in a lanctof fr, edom, where the.great right of sulrage is 'guarantied - to all? Didn't you,;f rrmer 1 - He paused for a reply, peddl rsqu'eaked out-H " , o, sir; I comes to _sell sbeap ready-made.cloi The' astonishment of 4botrW and roars .of the hot bel desdribed. Thai''' M! . , T3E WRONG SERMON.; Parson Green, e pielicherl in the habit Sometimes of araw)dg upon* bex of sermons of draw: ing ilif)on a box of sermOns.bequeathed him.by his father, who Was also a minis. : ter, Upon one occasion got hold of a seri mon, by mistake, [which the old gentle. man Nad - orce preached to the State pris :, , on. co !Acts. .It opened! . well, and the congr gation were becotnink deeply in terest d, when alrat onceltbe paron sur prised - them with the information, that f " hadlit 110 t been for the Clemency of the Gaveruoley , ery`orte of them, would have been tung'n long . titne ago?! ~ 1 Itti* "Alf() those bells ringing for. Ore?" [ inquired Bimini of. Tiberias. ': ".Ng, in. deed, - P1 answered Tiloc, "Ateylia*eplen ty of fire, a. d the, bells dre c4riagiair, Tor . iiiti:" ' , i . .. some ea of d too laffeo- TERMS:--$1;00 I r'EW ANIVIIM! - IdN6,LAND. , The...P.ev.: Dr. P I A'rTON; writes the fol; inteiestincr latter to the N. Y. Indeyendent ripou au English view tof The Anted Can 0-estior In my last I stud that the tide was turning. Of this there is increasing evi- . derie in and out of. Parliatnent. The newspapers are speaking:with more dee- . sion• and intelligenCe, always and ever, 4- Cepting The Times. This paper dogged-, ly holds ori to its first opinion that the Union is gope,. and That thbre are two na tions with which En g land has to do, and that the best thing for both sections is amicably to settle. their troubles; part in peace; and bothltnitke•proper comer cial .treaties with Oreat.Britaiti. - 'As .the Times is the politiCal Bible of the multi tude who care not to think for themselves; so in many circles you meet only with di ? ' kted and stale portions of what it thinks.. Still, there is one good thlngeven i,n the Tinies ; kis their Ipublibhing the sturdy and well-written articles of their New York correspondent: It is ainnsing'to notice how this correspondept on the around contradicts and—knoeks on the, head the facts which the editcr, three thou- , and wiles off,l pats forth as though he knew them to-bc crud from personal observatioa. Again, we have to laugh, ontright at . the letters of Mr. Anssell,the special correspondent at the very scat of, war. Those from INew Orleans-are ariyi thing hut gracious to those whose guest, ,he • has a queer Way: of. showing that he is, aceoraing to his published card, "strictly neutral." But the facts he repor.s-are not neutral. ..His deserip , Lion of the fortifications around Fort. Pickens-- . --the exaggerated sect:ilia &of .. three hundred- cannon when they num bered only about thirty ;. the difficulty.of enlistments, and the process of getting pressing,or propellin_ men into the army; that so. reduced is the account of powder, that, they cannot afford to fire a.salute f that money is scarce; so scarce. 014 a wealthy-c , entleman,,needing to horse - SY of the banks t t. 1,500 for sixty days, had, in addition to his own note, to hypothecate 10,000 of Confederate Bonds, for which_ he had recently paid par in OR Thee and.uany more Such statements are not neutral in their infinende. They do affect the• English mind, and strongly intimate. that Mr. Russell 'now, after, a visit of months in the Confederate States, has not. the same confidence in the success of the' treason - that he had shortly after his arri val in New Ifoik, when he was entertain ed by distinguished politicians.. Now . what makes "us laugh is, that notwith standing all that their own special corres- • poudent, sent but for-the role purpose of, furnishing the freshese and most reliable' news, writes, tt;11 the leaders t f the . Timcs o in defiance of the facts for which" . they pay the cost of collecting and print-, ing are determinately set upon having; two Confederacies with which 'England is to be on the roost, gracioug' terms. Froth the one she, is to get her cotton, and from the other .herbreadstuffs,whilst both are to take immense amounts of her. manufactures,. Free trade, also' she is - , confident must' prevail in both. ',l:he . South having once inaugurated it, the, North will be compelled to follow. Now the Times can not be suspected of any • selfishness, as it either makes or reflects - . the mind of . England—certainly not., They are only desirou:s that all America' should procure their pods at the cheap-, iest rates, and not pay .rtione for homer. made ,than for English goods., Hence banish protection—it is an antiquated,, worn-out doctrine. It id well enough, until it built up our inanyaCturcs on such' a broad and sure, basis. t tat we carr com-: pete with, the world: .. N 'to we go'for free, , trade, lest other thanufie uses should also be hitt up on alhroad and sure basis, I and not only exclude us g row the Amer ican market, but becomeonip ietitorswith:, us in the other markets of the world. The' disinterestedness of .this view elle qUes, tion svill be appreCiated by all, whatever may be their own 'opinion about the ques tion of free trade,' Thig.American trcu-i ble will affect England ;: and, How , shall',. We turn,* to the- best - =on it ? is the - great question . which, works every mind.. ycu may not get at it at first; but pump, • away, arid this will certainly °nue up. it, is the goveruineview. At fr t the con- viction Was that . the rebellion would put, only be a:success, but that the North, would be a crippled, divided 'and prostra ted section, stripped of cowtheree andwith out political strength. , But . now that the tidings are that the North is united,ssith , soldiers and money in abundance, and-- that, the Smith ere 'Oivided, :with .but hi- , tle money and silo credit--that they are boMpletely blockaded, and feel, as Mr. Russell ‘ says. as thotigh they were ,"•botl l tied in an effervescing state! —now, wi.:4 such unexpected tidings, the' feeling. is creeping out more fevorible to the NOrth.„ 1 Ilkid'that tjte : first convictiens 'Vero : that, the rebellion would be aysuOessedl , that ti ni destruction of the pnien vit:3-irsz, evitablo• New this ionvi den} was nue ESie next par. i 1 !.. ' when the little dis' country to hes." the or ' ator~ tie tnnititude, can ipeezh was fin- ~.., ~g, `:.. i "- i 111
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers