and the occupants of those finding themselves considerably disturbed thereby, suddenly the whole of the division advanced in line of battle, with flying colors, the officers leading the men, as if in real action, to revenge the insult. The assailants fell back rapidly before this overwhelming host, but only to secure a strong position, from which, with reenforcements, they might resume the offensive. The aların of their first repulse having been borne with the swiftness of the wind to their comrades, sharpshooters in large numbers were posted behind the cedar bushes that skirt the Telegraph Road, and hundreds of hands were actively employed in erecting a long and high snow wall in front of their extended lines. The struggle had now the appearance of a regular battle, with its charges and counter-charges; the wild enthusiasm of the men and the noble emulation of the officers finding expression in loud commands and yet louder cheering while the air was darkened with the snow-balls as the current of the fight moved to and fro over the well contested field. Nearer and nearer it came toward our headquarters, and it was soon evident to us that the hottest part of the engagement would take place on our neutral territory. Fruitless were the efforts of Stuart and myself to assert and maintain the neutrality of our camp, utterly idle the hoisting of a white flag: the advancing columns pressed forward in complete disregard of our signs and our outspoken remonstrances. Clouds of snow-balls passed across the face of the sun, and ere long the overwhelming wave of the conflict rolled pitilessly over us. Yielding to the unavoidable necessity which forbade our keeping aloof from the contest, Stuart and I had taken position, in order to obtain a view over the field of battle, on a big box, containing ordnance stores, in front of the general's tent, where we soon became so much inter

ested in the result, and so carried away by the excitement of the moment, that we found ourselves calling out to the men to hold their ground, and urging them again and again to the attack, while many a stray snow-ball, and many a welldirected one, took effect upon our exposed persons. But all the gallant resistance of M'Law's men was unavailing. Hood's lines pressed resistlessly forward, carrying every thing before them, taking the formidable fortifications, and driving M'Law's division out of the encampments. Suddenly, at this juncture, we heard loud shouting on the right, where two of Anderson's brigades had come up as reënforcements. The men of M'Law's division, acquiring new confidence from this support, rallied, and in turn drove, by a united charge, the victorious foe in headlong flight back to their own camps and woods. Thus ended the battle for the day, unhappily with serious results to some of the combatants, for one of Hood's men had his leg broken, one of M'Law's men lost an eye, and there were other chance wounds on both sides. This sham-fight gave ample proof of the excellent spirits of our troops, who, in the wet, wintry weather, many of them without blankets, some without shoes, regardless of their exposure and of the scarcity of provisions, still maintained their good humor, and were ever ready for any sort of sport or fun that offered itself to them."

ON THE BATTLE-FIELD.

A CORRESPONDENT of a Southern paper gives the foilow ing description of the feelings of a soldier for the first time on a battle-field-

"No person who was not upon the ground, and an eyewitness of the stirring scenes which there transpired, can begin to comprehend, from a description, the terrible realities of a battle. And even those who participated, are competent to speak only of their own personal experience. Where friends and foes are falling by scores, and every species of missile is flying through the air, threatening each instant to send one into eternity, little time is afforded for more observation or reflection than is required for personal safety.

"The scene is one of the most exciting and exhilarating that can be conceived. Imagine a regiment passing you at 'double-quick,' the men cheering with enthusiasm, their teeth set, their eyes flashing, and the whole in a frenzy of resolution! You accompany them to the field. They halt. An aid-de-camp passes to or from the commanding general. The clear voices of officers ring along the line, in tones of passionate eloquence, their words hot, thrilling, and elastic! The word is given to march; and the body moves into action. For the first time in your life you listen to the whizzing of iron. Grape and canister fly into the ranks; bombshells burst overhead, and the fragments fly all around you. A friend falls; perhaps a dozen or twenty of your comrades lie wounded or dying at your feet. A strange, involuntary shrinking steals over you, which it is impossible to resist. You feel inclined neither to advance nor recede, but are spell-bound by the contending emotions of the moral and physical man. The cheek blanches, the lip quivers, and the eye almost hesitates to look upon the scene.

"In this attitude you may, perhaps, be ordered to stand an hour inactive, havoc meanwhile marking its footsteps with blood on every side. Finally, the order is given to advance, to fire, or to charge. And now, what a metamorphosis !

With your first shot you become a new man. Personal safety is your least concern. Fear has no existence in your bosom. Hesitation gives way to an uncontrollable desire to rush into the thickest of the fight. The dead and dying around you, if they receive a passing thought, only serve to stimulate you to revenge. You become cool and deliberate and watch the effect of bullets the shower of bursting shells the passage of cannon-balls, as they rake their murderous channels through your ranks the plunging of wounded horses—the agonies of the dying-and the clash of contending arms-which follows the dashing charge, with a feeling so calloused by surrounding circumstances, that your soul seems dead to every sympathizing and selfish thought.

"Such is the spirit which carries the soldier through the field of battle. But when the excitement has passed, when the roll of musketry has ceased, the noisy voices of the cannons are stilled, the dusky pall of sulphurous smoke has risen from the field, and you stroll over the theatre of car nage, hearing the groans of the wounded-discovering here, shattered almost beyond recognition, the form of some dear friend whom only an hour before you met in the full flush of life and happiness-there, another perforated by a bullet-a third with a limb shot away-a fourth with his face dis figured-a fifth almost torn to fragments-a sixth a headless corpse--the ground ploughed up and stained with bloodhuman brains splashed around-limbs without bodies, and bodies without limbs, scattered here and there, and the same picture duplicated scores of times-then, you begin to realize the horrors of war, and experience a reaction of nature. The heart opens its floodgates, humanity asserts herself again, and you begin to feel.

"Vriend and foe alike now receive your kindest minister

ings. The enemy whom but a short time before, full of laco, you were doing all in your power to kill, you now endeavor to save! You supply him with water to quench his thirst, with food to sustain his strength, and with sympathizing words to soothe his troubled mind. All that is human or charitable in your nature now rises to the surface, and you are animated by that spirit of mercy 'which blessech him that gives and him that takes.' A battle-field is eminently a place that tries men's souls."

THE FATE OF A SPY.

"PERSONNE," the correspondent of the Charleston Courier, writes, in a letter from the Rappahannock, in the summer of 1862:

To-day has been further signalized by the hanging of a spy, a man named Charles Mason, of Perrysville, Pennsylvania. It appears that as one of the couriers of General Longstreet was carrying an order, he was met by this man, who inquired, "Whose division do you belong to?" "Longstreet's." The courier then asked, "Whose division do you belong to?" "Jackson's," was the reply. A gray Confede rate uniform favored this idea, and a conversation ensued. As the two traveled together the courier observed that there was a disposition on the part of his companion to drop h hind; and, finally, he was astonished by a pistol presented at his breast, and a demand for the delivery of the papers he carried in his belt. Having no other resource, the latter surrendered the documents, when the spy deliberately shot him in the back and ran. Soon afterward the courier was