Philadelphia, Dec 10, 1861.

The Bulletin, of this city, has a statement given by a Union refugee from Richmond, who escaped on the claim of being a British subject. There was considerable Union feeling prevalent there. The fugitive belonged to a Union club, but their rendezvous being discovered the members were forced to scatter.

Among the many instances where the bravery of our officers and men have shown conspicuous, the one we copy from the Boston Gazette is almost unequalled

Captain Spencer, aid to General Wool received information from two ladies, who went from Norfolk to Fortress Monroe with a flag of truce, that near midnight a six-oared boat was to leave Norfolk for Richmond with money for the payment of the rebel soldiers. He requested permission of Major General Wool to attempt their capture, and was told not to place too much confidence in the information received. Nevertheless, permission was given, and selecting two oarsmen on whom he could rely, with their oars muffled, he started at dark and awaited the coming of the enemy’s boat he had preciously given directions to his men to pull directly for the boat, and on the moment of striking to “back water” instantly.

The weather of the past few days has been quite pleasant. Seldom is such moderate weather experienced so late in the season. Even at dawn this morning the atmosphere was quite balmy, and the weather, but little hazy, altogether suitable for a morning jaunt. Light had dawned upon a city of stillness. The streets were without an echo, save when the sentry’s musket struck the pavement, or the lumbering of a distant wagon made a heavy murmur up in the air. The beautiful river slept without a wave beneath the early light, and shone in the thin mist like burnished steel.

Among the regularly recurring incidents of the present state of affairs here, few strike the passer-by with more force than the very large crowd that gathers, on each Monday morning, at the door of the military headquarters, on St. Asaph street, opposite the Post Office. Hundreds of people wait there for hours for “passes,” making the sidewalk impassable for a considerable distance. Men, women and children—white, black and mulatto—all form a compact mass which collects about nine o’clock, increases until about ten, and then gradually diminishes until the last applicant is heard, the “pass” granted or refused, and then all is quiet as before.