“Were they not fearful?” said Mr. X-----, smiling tranquilly. “After reading them, I regarded myself as a moral and political monster!” I could not forbear from laughing as the portly statesman uttered the words. He seemed to derive a species of careless enjoyment from the recollection of his “flayings.” “I expect to talk over these little affairs with Daniel hereafter,” he said. “We shall have a great deal of time on our hands--in Canada.” And Mr. X----- smiled, and went on smoking. It was the second time he had uttered that phrase--“in Canada.” I laughed now, and said:-- “You continue to regard Toronto, or Montreal, or Quebec, as your future residence?” “Yes; I think I prefer Quebec. The view from Cape Diamond is superb; and there is something English and un-American in the whole place, which I like. The Plains of Abraham bring back the history of the past,--which is more agreeable to me at least than the history of the present.” “You adhere more than ever, I see, to your opinion that we are going to fail?” “It is not an opinion, my dear colonel, but a certainty.” My head sank. In the army I had been hopeful. When I came to Richmond, those high intelligences, John M. Daniel and Mr. X-----, did not even attempt to conceal their gloomy views. “I see you think me a croaker,” said Mr. X-----, tranquilly smoking, “and doubtless say to yourself, colonel, that I am injudicious in thus discouraging a soldier, who is fighting for this cause. A year ago I would not have spoken to you thus, for a year ago there was still some hope. Now, to discourage you--if thinking men, fighting for a principle, like yourself, _could_ be discouraged--would result in no injury: for the cause is lost. On the contrary, as the friend of that most excellent gentleman, your father, I regard it as a sort of duty to speak thus--to say to you ‘Don’t throw away your life for nothing. Do your duty, but do no more than your duty, for we are doomed.’” I could find no reply to these gloomy words.