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
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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