Something must be done to prevent the free acceptance of parole by our troops. Thousands and thousands 'have taken the word' and thereby incapacitated themselves from taking further part in the war. Let the press and the people awake to the infamy which a ready surrender on parole conditions brings, and we shall soon see the last of it. Let us continue by commending to all who have yielded themselves up, save in dire need, the following SONG OF THE SNEAK. 'Rest sword, cool blushes, and PAROLLES--live!' SHAKSPEARE. I saw the foe advancing, Says I, 'Boys,' says I. 'This is rather ugly dancing. Which the general makes us try, Where the bayonets are glancing,' Says I, 'boys,' says I. When the bullets got to dropping, Says I, 'Boys,'says I, I wish there were some stopping These blue beetles as they fly. And which set a fellow hopping;' Says I, 'boys,' says I. And I'd scarcely pulled a trigger, Says I, 'Boys,' says I, I 'aint got a mite of vigor,'-- So I skulked and tried to fly, But was booted by a nigger, And back I had to shy. Then the Confed's came before us; Says I, 'Boys,'says I, 'I guess they're goin' to floor us, Or to knock us high and dry;' When they all sang out in chorus-- 'Yield or die! yield or die! 'If you yield, we will parole you.' Then says I, ' Boys,' says I, 'I have no wish to control you; But, unless you want to die, The best way to console you, Is to go parole,' says I; 'When we won't have no more fighting,' Says I, 'boys,' says I, 'Yet, in our pay delighting, We can loaf at ease, all day, And keep clear of guns affrighting All a feller's nerves,' says I. Now I blow and bluster bolder, And at home, 'Boys,' says I, 'I used to be a soldier, But I was too brave to fly, And I'm, therefore, a parol-der, Of the noblest kind,' says I. Blackwood's Magazine, for September, treated the British public to an article on Mr. JEFFERSON DAVIS, in which that character is, of course, exalted to the pinnacle of greatness. Of its fairness and truthfulness, the following is a good specimen: 'Mr. Lincoln issued a proclamation calling for 75,000 troops to put down the rebellion. _This_ was the torch that lit up the South, and rendered subsequent compromise impossible.' Was it indeed? when there is no fact in history so directly clear and plain as that secession was a foregone conclusion in the South, from the moment that the possibility of Lincoln's election was conjectured. We are told that it was entirely the fault of the North that this diabolical rebellion burst out! It is always the North that is to blame, now, with John Bull. But we have more of it: