Honor to the new-born nation! honor to the brave! A country freed from thraldom, or a soldier's honored grave! Every rock shall be a tombstone, every rivulet run red, And the invader, should he conquer, find the conquered in the dead. But victory shall follow where the sons of freedom go, And the signal for the onset be the death-knell of the foe; NEGRO HEROISM. IN a raid by the Federals, on the Mississippi river, they took off the son of a negro man belonging to Senator Henry. The boy was about ten years old; and when Jenkins ascer tained that his son was on board the Yankee boat, he immediately repaired to the boat, foaming at the mouth, like an enraged tiger. He went on board, knife in hand, and demanded his boy. "Give me back my boy!" exclaimed he, in those terrible, fierce tones that electrify with fear all who hear them, "or I will make the deck of this boat slippery with your blood. You are nothing but a set of vile robbers and plunderers, and I will spill the last drop of my blood but I will have my child. Give him to me, or I will plunge my knife into the heart of the first man I reach." The captain of the boat seeing the desperate determination of Jenkins, told the soldiers they had better give him up, or some of them would be killed, and he was given up. Hurrah for Jenkins! He had previously resisted all appeals to him to desert his master, and he took his boy back to his contented home in triumph. He is one amongst a thousand THE ADVENTURES OF GEORGE N. SANDERS. George N. Sanders having been entrusted with an im portant mission to Europe, by the Confederate Government, made his way through the Loyal States to Canada, and sailed thence to Europe. A Northern paper contains the following account of his entrance into Canada: There have been several brief accounts of the successful passage across the Canada frontier of George N. Sanders, Rebel emissary to Europe, but the following statement, gathered from those who personally witnessed the adventure in its various stages, gives the fullest details. A few days ago a man dressed in well-worn workingclothes presented himself to the United States Provost Marshal on the United States side of the Suspension Bridge. He wore a pair of very short trousers of striped Kentucky jean, and a seedy coat of the same material. A coarse, not over clean shirt, and a jagged straw hat completed the costume. The man had no collar or cravat, and his face was apparently greatly tanned by exposure to the weather. He wanted to go over the river, he said, but had no pass and did not know that any would be needed. He stated that he was an Englishman from Cornwall, and a miner by trade. He had been working for some time in Pennsylvania, but had lately received a letter from his brother, a farmer, near London, Canada West, stating that he was short of help, and urging his miner relatives to come on to his assistance, at least, till the harvest time was over. The miner held his tools in one hand, and in the other carried an old carpet bag of the black glazed style in common use. The glazing in many places had come off, and the out side was, moreover, spotted and soiled with dirt. The carpet bag, more valuable than the famous one of .hn Brown, for it contained the papers, despatches and money of the Rebel emissary Sanders. The Marshal pondered awhile, but the poor miner gave such a consistent story, and seemed so disappointed at his unexpected trouble in crossing, that the official's heart wa melted, and he gave him the required pass. The toll man of the Suspension Bridge then demanded a quarter of a dollar toll. "Two shillings!" said the miner, "why, I can't give it. I've only got one shilling." This plea of poverty completely disarmed whatever shadow of suspicion may have existed in regard to the poor workman. After the proper degree of hesitation the "fellow" was allowed to pass over at half price. Thanking the toll-keeper for his liberality, the miner walked on wearily across the bridge. As he neared the Canada side his step became lighter-just as Christian (pardon the comparison) felt when the burden dropped off his back. A decided burden had dropped off George N. Sanders' mind -he was safe in Canada. Arriving at the Canada side of the bridge, the miner, with his tools and carpet-bag, jumped into the Clifton House omnibus, and was quickly driven to that famous hotel. IIe went to the desk and registered on the book the initials S. N. G.-his own initials reversed. The clerk looked at the shabby working man a moment, and then coldly said: "We can't give you a room here, sir." "But I must have a room," said Sanders. "None to spare to-night," replied the clerk. Tle miner thrust his hands in his pocket and drew forth a great roll of "greenbacks." "Here," said he to the clerk, "take these as security. Put them in your safe; but give me a room at once." Of course money has its effect in Clifton Пlouse, as everywhere else. Still the clerk hesitated. "Is there any place about here where I can get a respecta ble suit of clothes?" asked the miner, dropping his Cornish dialect. There was no place nearer than the Bridge, a mile distant. So the miner again insisted on having the room; and as it was obvious that "things were not as they seem," he was shown to a suitable apartment. A few minutes afterward a guest strolled out on the piazza, where ex-Governor Morehead, of Kentucky, was sitting. "By the way, Governor," said he, "what a singular old fellow that was in the office. He registered his name on the book only in initials!" "Good God! in initials !" cried Morehead, starting up, "he's come then;" and rushing past the astonished guest, he deinanded to be shown to the room of the mysterious S. N. G. Other Secessionists also hastened thither. Sanders was provided with a suit of clothes at once, the clerks and servants altered their deportment to the quondam miner, and the guests had a rare piece of gossip to talk about. Sanders is by this time half way across the occan; and whatever is thought of him or his cause, it is generally acknowledged that his journey from Richmond to Canada is one of the "cutest" specimens of Rebel "strategy" the war has produced. It shows that our blockade is so stringent, that a Rebel emissary prefers a long land journey in disguise to attempting to break it. Of course, the adventure has been the chief topic of gossip in the Niagara hotels; and miners will henceforth be viewed with a very profound suspicion in the neighborhood of the Suspension Bridge. JACKSON ON A RETREAT. CAPTAIN COOKE, in his "Life of Stonewall Jackson," gives the following account of the great soldier when he retreated from Winchester in the early Spring of 1862 :— Jackson still occupied his position in advance of the town, with the determination not to retire before the enemy without engaging them, when, late in the afternoon, he received an order from Richmond directing him to evacuate Winchester and fall back up the valley. This was a bitter disappoint. ment to him. All his dreams of defending Winchester were at once dispelled; and with a heavy heart he prepared to obey. There was nothing in his orders, however, which forbade him to fight as he fell back, and he resolved that, before retiring, he would attack his adversary. On the night of the 11th of March he visited the family of the Rev. Mr. Graham, a Presbyterian clergyman of the town, with whom he was intimate, and the whole family were struck with the unusual buoyancy of his bearing. His manner was animated; his countenance smiling, almost gay; and he came in with a rapid, elastic tread, which indicated high spirits. As the hour for evening prayers had arrived, he asked permission to read a chapter in the Bible, and offer a prayer, as he frequently did; and every one took notice of the eloquence and feeling in his voice. When the family rose from their knees, Jackson remained for a moment silent, |