God is Great ! The angel of death is flapping
his heavy wines in the face of the Russian desolator, and Poland may yet be free! The army, say the last accounts, dated the lath, is in a state of compelled inaction,—unless, we may add, when it is broken by the attacks of the mee whom they came to destroy. The country around their position is one wide waste of copse and quagmire. The supplies are drawn from a distance, uncertain, and scanty: six roubles have been paid for a glass of brandy, two for an egg. The Field-Marshal, it is said, formed his plans on a simple basis— tangled be their issue !—and hastened with rapidity towards the goal, which there is good hope he will never reach. NICHOLAS has appointed a Polish Government, which is to have its seat in St. Petersburg—we hope it will remain there.
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