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urgent necessity, we have no doubt of their ability to go and return with perfect safety. The only condition is, attend to your own business, and leave the affairs of others alone. We know a number of gentlemen of this State, some of them of this city, who have recently gone North and returned without the slightest molestation. We yesterday saw a letter from a resident of Savannah now in New York, in which he expresses his astonishment at the respect with which he is everywhere treated, after all the bloodthirsty stories he had read in the newspapers.

BISHOP POLK, OF LOUISIANA, AND HIS COMMAND. —A correspondent of the New Orleans Picayune, writing from Richmond, gives these curious particulars of the way in which Right Rev. Dr. Polk, Episcopal Bishop of the Diocese of Louisiana, came to forsake the gown for the sword :—

"The Right Rev. Leonidas Polk, of Louisiana, was to-day commissioned Major-General in the army of the Confederate States. The appointment has been urged upon Bishop Polk for several weeks, but he has had some hesitation in accepting it. A few days since he paid a visit to the venerable Bishop Meade, at his home near Winchester, to consult with him about it. The result was that he has concluded to accept it.

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Bishop Meade told him truly that he already held a commission in a very different army, to which he held allegiance till life's journey ends.'

"I know that very well,' replied Bishop Polk, and I do not intend to resign it. On the contrary, I shall only prove the more faithful to it by doing all that in me lies to bring this unhallowed and unnatural war to a speeedy and happy close. We of the Confederate States are the last bulwarks of civil and religious liberty; we fight for our hearthstones and our altars; above all, we fight for a race that has been by Divine Providence entrusted to our most sacred keeping. When I accept a commission in the Confederate army, therefore, I not only perform the duties of a good citizen, but contend for the principles which lie at the foundation of our social, political, and religious polity.'

"The result of this conversation was, that our beloved Bishop was induced to accept the appointment which was urged upon him, and for which he is particularly fitted by birth, education, and talents.

Bishop Folk is a native of Tennessee, and at an early age entered the Military Academy at West Point, where he graduated with distinguished honors, a contemporary of President Davis, Gen. Lee, Gen. Johnston, and Gen. Magruder. All of these gentlemen remember his talents and proficiency, and have urged his appointment from the beginning with an unanimous voice.

"The command of Major-General Polk extends from the mouth of the Arkansas River, on both sides of the Mississippi, to the northernmost limits of the Confederate States. It takes in the encampment at Corinth, Mississippi, where there are about 15,000 men assembled, the northern portion of the State of Alabama, and the State of Tennessee. On the west, it comprehends that portion of the State of Arkansas bordering the Mississippi north of White River, as far north as the boundaries of the Confederate States may extend. That portion of the State of Arkansas south and west of the White River is consigned to Col. Hardee, now in command of Fort Morgan, near Mobile.

"Gen. Polk will leave for his command in a very

few days. His head-quarters will be Memphis, where he will no doubt frequently be heard from."

THE Boston Journal tells the following story:"A good story is told of the courageous conduct of the wife of Captain McGilvery, master of the ship Mary Goodell, which was captured by a rebel privateer, and subsequently released, and arrived at Portland. Mrs. McGilvery was on the voyage with her husband, and when the ship was boarded by the pirates, she was asked by them for a supply of small stores for their use, as they were rather short. She immediately replied that she had nothing but arsenic, and would gladly give them a supply, but that they could have nothing else from her. Seeing the national flag near at hand, they started to secure it, when she sprang forward, and grasping the flag, threw it into a chest, and placing herself over it, declared they should not have it unless they took her with it. Finding the lady rather too spunky for them, they retired without further molesting her.”— N. Y. Evening Post, July 16.

AN AFFECTING INCIDENT.-A correspondent tells the following story:-"An incident was related to me by a lady of Alexandria, which affords a striking but sad illustration of the effects of civil war. The lady in question has resided with an only daughter for many years in Alexandria. About nine months since, a mutual friend introduced a young gentleman of Richmond to the family. The young people soon became intimately acquainted, and, quite naturally, fell in love. The parents on both sides consenting, the parties were betrothed, and the marriage day fixed for the 4th of July inst. In the mean time, however, the Virginians were called upon to decide on which side they would stand. The ladies declared themselves on the side of the Government, but the gentleman joined the forces of his State. No opportunity was afforded for the interchange of sentiments between the young folks, or any thing settled as to their future movements. Matters thus remained till the 4th of July, when, exactly within an hour of the time originally fixed for the marriage, intelligence was received at the residence of the ladies that the young man had been shot by a sentry two days before, while attempting to desert and join his bride. His betrothed did not shed a tear, but standing erect, smiled, and then remarking to her mother, I am going to desert, too,' fell to the floor, while the blood bubbled from her lips, and this morning her remains were conveyed to their last resting-place.”—Toledo Blade, July 18.

HORSES AT BULL RUN.-The following incidents of Bull Run came to my knowledge a short time ago. One of the guns of the celebrated Sherman's battery was rescued from capture by the rebels, and brought off the field by two horses that had been shot through by Minié musket-balls. When the order "forward” was given, they resolutely straightened out, and absolutely brought off the gun.

At the commencement of the battle, Lieut. Hasbrouck, of the West Point battery, was riding a little sorrel horse. In a short time he was shot three times, and from loss of blood became too weak for further service. He was stripped of bridle and saddle, and turned loose, as his owner supposed, to die. In the heat of the contest nothing more was thought of the little sorrel, nor was he seen again until the remnant of the battery was far toward Washington on the

retreat. It paused at Centreville, and while resting there, Lieut. Hasbrouck was delighted to be joined by his faithful horse, which, by a strong instinct, had obeyed the bugle call to retreat, and had found his true position with the battery, which is more than most of the human mass engaged on the field can boast of doing. He came safely into Washington, is now recovered of his wounds, and ready for another fight. -Correspondence of the N. Y. Times.

YOPON TEA.-In view of the probable scarcity of tea and coffee during the war, we see the papers are recommending the use of the leaves and twigs of the Yopon, an evergreen which grows spontaneously on our coast. The Yopon is a common drink on the banks, and is highly esteemed by many. We have heard it said that when it is well cured, it is greatly improved when the milk and molasses are boiled with it. It is rather vulgar to use sugar for sweetening Yopon. Molasses is the thing. A venerable lady, who lived to a considerable age on the banks, once speaking of the healthiness of Yopon as a drink, said, Bless the Lord! Yopon has kept me out of heaven these twenty years."-Raleigh

Standard.

In the tent of Col. Pegram, of the rebel service, who was captured, with his command, in Western Virginia by a portion of the forces then under Gen. McClellan, there were found a good many queer things; but among the queerest was a small, meanly printed handbill, which reads as follows:

"TO ARMS! TO ARMS!!

"Brave sons of the Commonwealth! the foot of the ruthless invader is upon her soil, and his conduct is characterized by barbarities and atrocities disgraceful to civilization; he can, he must, he SHALL be expelled! If a nation may be born in a day, an army should be raised in an hour. I am sent forward in advance of the brave, chivalrous, and indomitable Gen. Henry A. Wise, to urge you to fly to arms without a moment's delay. Gather every thing in the shape of arms that may be converted into them, and paste the name of the person from whom they are taken upon them, that they may be valued. Bring all the powder, every flint, percussion cap, &c.; all the lead, and every thing else you can think of that will be of service, and fly in squads to prominent points on the road from Staunton to Charleston, Kanawha County, and await the arrival of your General, who will be on in a few days to muster you into service. Be brave, and fear not! The God that made the mountains is God of the lion-hearted and brave! The land of Washington, Henry, Jefferson, and Madison, is sacred-it must not, it SHALL not be desecrated! By all the memories of the past, and all hopes of the future, I beg you to rally at once. "By order of General Wise. "6 EVERMONT WARD." -Boston Journal, Aug. 6.

A WAR INCIDENT.-During the late fight near Martinsburg, Va., one of McMullen's Rangers, in his eagerness to have, as he said, a shot at the secesh, climbed a tree, from which he had good aim, and used it to advantage. When the captain discovered him overhead from the crack of his rifle, he demanded what he was doing there, to which he replied, in his peculiar style, Only picking my men, Captain."N. Y. World, July 16.

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FREDERIC DE PEYSTER, JR., son of Gen. de Peyster, of Tivoli, N. Y., a youth of eighteen, left behind in charge of invalids of the Eighth regiment, at Arlington Heights, received orders on Saturday, July 20th, to join his regiment the next day. On the 21st he left the detachment behind, rode out through the throng of runaways to within a short distance of the battle-field, where he was stopped by Blenker's pickets, who turned him back, as a further advance would only have led to his capture by the enemy's horse, which had just been driven back. He remained two hours at this point, carrying orders, &c., and was then ordered back to Arlington Heights, where he arrived at 4 o'clock A. M. on Monday, having rode, without eating, some sixty to seventy miles, and his horse having had only one feed during that time. He is the only surgeon out of four who belonged to the regiment who returned from Bull Run. The three others were captured.-N. Y. World.

notice, was appointed by Governor Morgan an AssistFrederic de Peyster, Jr., the subject of the above has seen all the hard work of the war, having joined ant Surgeon in the Eighth regiment N. Y. S. M. He his regiment at Annapolis in April. He was with the first detachment which occupied the Relay House, timore. Prepared to move with his regiment upon and that which Butler took with him to overawe BalManassas, he was left behind, as the youngest surgeon, in charge of the sick and wounded. Ordered to bring of them so as to render assistance to his regiment on up a detachment of convalescents, he pushed on ahead the battle-field as soon as possible. A letter from the Major of the 29th N. Y. V. speaks of his appearing as calm and composed as usual," despite his extreme exertions and the terrible excitement of the scene.-Poughkeepsie (N. Y.) Eagle, Aug. 1.

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THE following is a correct copy of a petition presented to the Board of Police Commissioners of New York. The names attached thereto are genuine, and the owners of them are no mythical personages, but are known in the flesh to the Detective Police. Though fallen in the social circle, they still have some pride left, and jealously guard their “characters."

To the Board of Metropolitan Police:

The undersigned, members of the several "ancient guilds," and organizations "knucks,” "Autumn divers," "pads," "buzzards," "confidence men," &c., having had the misfortune to be "nabbed" by the "coppers" in your employ, and been compelled to undergo the humiliation of being daguerreotyped by bad artists, to the end that our likenesses might constitute a fine-art collection, known as the "Rogues' Gallery," do respectfully set forth :

That we have endured these inflictions, superadded, in many instances, by the deprivation of liberty, without murmuring. We learn, however, with surprise and mortification, that we have been compelled to undergo a new and unheard-of indignity— insult added to injury-as though the purpose was to class us with the vilest robbers and outlaws. The liberty has been taken, unwarrantably, unlawfully, and in violation of the statute for the protection of private character, to place in the aforesaid collection or "Gallery," the likenesses of a gang of banditti of a class infinitely lower and more base than any in which your memorialists have ever, by choice or misfortune, associated. The portraits of Jefferson Davis, Howell Cobb, Isaac Toucey, Gen. Beauregard, R. H.

Lee, John B. Floyd, Henry A. Wise, Lawrence M. Keitt, Judah P. Benjamin, David L. Yulee, and others of the same "school," have been arranged with ours, as though we were deep-dyed as they. While protesting against this wholesale defamation of character, we remonstrate that we have at the most only sought to live by our wits, while this school of banditti, the villains aforesaid, have conspired to ruin a mighty people, and to steal the wealth of an entire republic-to beggar and enslave a continent. No thief at the coffin's side, no operator in the panel crib, no midnight burglar, ever conceived a plot so base. Trusting your honorable Board will perceive this injustice, we respectfully petition that the portraits of the traitors, robbers, and sneak-thieves aforesaid, now in arms against the Government which has provided them with bread, may be removed from the Rogues' Gallery." And your petitioners will ever

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pray.

BLINKY RILEY.

THE LONDON "TIMES" ON AMERICAN
AFFAIRS.

John Bull vos a-valkin' his parlor von day,
Ha-fixin' the vorld wery much his hown vay,
Ven igstrawnary news cum from hover the sea,
Habout the great country vot brags it is free.

Hand these vos the tidins this news it did tell,
That great Yankee Doodle vos going to―vell,
That he vos a-volloped by Jefferson D.,
Hand no longer "some punkins" vos likely to be.
John Bull, slyly vinkin', then said hunto he:

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"His long-legged boots hat my 'ed 'e 'as 'urled,

LITTLE FELIX, alias Felix Duval, alias Thomas I'd raither not see 'em a-trampin' the vorld;

Wilkins.

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A GOOD SAMARITAN.-A letter from Washington on the battle of Bull Run, says:-"While in the quarters of the Michigan Fourth this morning, I met with a very intelligent corporal, who became separated from his regiment during the retreat, and was obliged to seek shelter among the bushes. When night came, he wandered along and lost his way in the woods. Being slightly wounded in the leg, his progress was somewhat slow. By Wednesday night he had only reached the environs of Fairfax. Exhausted and completely dispirited, he espied a Confederate picket, and deliberately walked up and told the sentry who he was. To his utter surprise the soldier poured out some whiskey, gave him food, told him where he could find a stack of arms, and where he could sleep during the night in perfect safety in a negro hut. He added: 'I am a Union man, but preferred to volunteer to fight rather than to be impressed. I thus save my property, and will trust to luck. If we meet again in battle, I will not try very hard to shoot you, and mind you don't me.' Truly a good Samaritan, and a wise man."-Phila. Bulletin, Aug. 2.

Hand I howe him a grudge for his conduct so wile,
In himportin' shillalahs from Erin's green hile.

"I knows Jefferson D. is a rascally chap,
Who goes hin for cribbin' the Guvurnment pap;
That Hexeter 'All may be down upon me,
But as Jeff. 'as the cotton, I'll cotton to he.

"I cares for the blacks not a drat more nor he,
Though on principle I goes for settin' 'em free;
But hinterest, my cove, we must look hafter now,—
Unless principle yields, it are poor anyhow."

So spoke Johnny Bull, so he spake hunto me,
Hand I 'inted slyly to Jefferson D.,

Who, very much pleased, rubbed his 'ands in his joy,
Hand exclaimed: "You're the man for my money,

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Ven hall hof a sudden it come in the 'ed Hof a prudent hold covey, who up and 'e said: Hit's bad to vant cotton, but worser by far, His the sufferin' hand misery you'll make by a war. "There his cotton in Hingy, Peru, and Assam, Guayaquai and Jamaica, Canton, Surinam; 'Arf a loaf, or 'arf cotton, tight papers hi call,

But a 'ole var hentire his the devil and hall."

So he sent not 'is vessel hacross the broad sea,
Vich vos hawful 'ard lines for poor Jefferson D.,
Hand wrote hunto Doodle, "'Öld hon, and be true!"
And Jonathan hanswered Bull, "Bully for you!"

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Nor to the camp alone his summons came,
To blast the glowing day,

But heavenward bore upon the wings of flame
Our poet's mate away;*

And set his seal upon the statesman's lips
On which a nation hung;+

And rapt the noblest life in cold eclipse,
By woman lived or sung.‡

How shrinks the heart from Nature's festal noon,
As shrink the withered leaves,-

In the wan light of Sorrow's harvest-moon
To glean her blighted sheaves.
NEWPORT, R. I., September, 1861.

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FREMONT'S BATTLE-HYMN.

BY JAMES G. CLARK.

Oh, spirits of Washington, Warren, and Wayne!
Oh, shades of the heroes and patriots slain !
Come down from your mountains of emerald and
gold,

And smile on the banner ye cherished of old;
Descend in your glorified ranks to the strife,
Like legions sent forth from the armies of life;
Let us feel your deep presence, as waves feel the
breeze,

When the white fleets, like snowflakes, are drank by

the seas.

As the red lightnings run on the black jagged cloud, Ere the thunder-king speaks from his wind-woven shroud,

So gleams the bright steel along valley and shore,
Ere the combat shall startle the land with its roar.
As the veil which conceals the clear starlight is riven,
When clouds strike together, by warring winds driven,
So the blood of the race must be offered like rain,
Ere the stars of our country are ransomed again.

Proud sons of the soil where the Palmetto grows,
Once patriots and brothers, now traitors and foes,
Ye have turned from the path which our forefathers
trod,

And stolen from man the best gift of his God;
Ye have trampled the tendrils of love in the ground,
Ye have scoffed at the law which the Nazarene found,
Till the great wheel of Justice seemed blocked for a
time,

And the eyes of humanity blinded with crime.

The hounds of oppression were howling the knell
Of martyrs and prophets, at gibbet and cell,
While Mercy despaired of the blossoming years
When her harp strings no more should be rusted with
tears.

But God never ceases to strike for the right,
And the ring of His anvil came down through the
night,

Though the world was asleep, and the nations seemed

dead,

And Truth into bondage by Error was led.

Will the banners of morn at your bidding be furled,
When the day-king arises to quicken the world?
Can ye cool the fierce fires of his heat-throbbing
breast,

Or turn him aside from his goal in the West?
Ah! sons of the plains where the orange tree
blooms,

Ye may come to our pine-covered mountains for tombs;

But the light ye would smother was kindled by One Who gave to the universe planet and sun.

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