The whole number of males in the rebel States, by the census of 1860, between 15 and 60 years of age (excepting East Tennessee and Western Virginia), is less than one million; of whom, from physical disability, sickness, alienage, &c., at least 100,000 are not available. Of the remaining 900,000, at least 200,000 have been withdrawn by death, wounds, sickness, parole, capture, &c., reducing the number to 700,000; of whom, for indispensable pursuits, at least one third must remain at home, reducing their present maximum forces to 466,000. Now, if these disappear no more rapidly in the future than in the past (although the war will be prosecuted with much more vigor), their numbers would be diminished at the rate of at least 12,000 a month. Therefore, as there are no means of obtaining new recruits, it is clear that the rebellion must soon fail for want of troops to meet our immense armies. It is true no allowance has been made for recruits from the Border States; but these (greatly overestimated) would be more than counter-balanced by the inability to obtain troops from that large portion of the Rebel States occupied by our forces, such as all the coast from New Orleans to Norfolk, nearly all the Mississippi River, and considerable sections of West and Middle Tennessee, North Alabama, North Mississippi, and Arkansas. The days of the rebellion, then, are numbered. * * * * * Sharpsburg is a name which will be long remembered, and is destined to be found in many a lay and legend. Among the earliest written commemorating it, we have the following, from one whose lyrics are well known to our readers: THE POTOMAC AT SHARPSBURG. BY H. L. SPENCER. Once smiling fields stretched far on either side, Where bowed to every breeze the ripening grain; But now with carnage are those waters dyed, And all around are slumbering the slain. Patriots and heroes! unto whom in vain Ne'er cried the voice of Right,--their names shall be Graved on a million hearts, and with just pride Shall children say, 'For Truth and Liberty Our fathers fought at SHARPSBURG, where they fell-- They _bravely fought_, as history's pages tell.' Not for the fallen toll the funeral bell,-- _Their_ rest is peaceful--_they_ the goal have won. Let the thinned ranks be filled, and let us see Complete the glorious work by them begun. Yes--forward! onward! Let it be complete. _Scripta est_--it is written, and it will be done. After going so far in the great cause which has become our religion and our life, it were hardly worth while to retreat. Life and fortune are of small account now in this tremendous opening of new truths and new interests. And we are only at the beginning! With every new death the cause grows more sacred, and the North more grandly earnest. 'Hurrah for the faithful dead!' * * * * * MRS. H. BEECHER STOWE AND THE DUCHESS OF SUTHERLAND. MY DEAR MRS. STOWE: