“The case is past praying for,” said Mr. X----- composedly, “the whole fabric of the Confederacy at this moment is a mere shell. It is going to crumble in the spring, and another flag will float over the Virginia capitol yonder--what you soldiers call ‘The Gridiron.’ The country is tired. The administration is unpopular, and the departments are mismanaged. I am candid, you see. The days of the Confederacy are numbered, and worse than all, nobody knows it. We ought to negotiate for the best terms, but the man who advises that, will be hissed at and called a ‘coward.’ It is an invidious thing to do. It is much grander to shout ‘Death sooner than surrender!’ I shouted that lustily as long as there was any hope--now, I think it my duty as a statesman, and public functionary, to say, ‘There are worse things than death--let us try and avoid them by making terms.’ I say that to you--I do not say so on the streets--the people would tear me to pieces, and with their sources of information they would be right in doing so.” “Is it possible that all is lost? That negotiations are our only hope?” “Yes; and confidentially speaking--this is a State secret, my dear colonel--these will soon be made.” “Indeed!” “You think that impossible, but it is the impossible which invariably takes place in this world. We are going to send commissioners to meet Mr. Lincoln in Hampton Roads--and it will be useless.” “Why?” “We are going to demand such terms as he will not agree to. The commissioners will return. The war will continue to its legitimate military end, which I fix about the last days of March.” “Good heaven! so soon!” “Yes.” “In three months?” Mr. X----- nodded. “General Lee may lengthen the term a little by his skill and courage, but it is not in _his_ power, even, to resist beyond the month of April.” “The army of Northern Virginia, driven by the enemy!” “Forced to surrender, or annihilated; and in Virginia--it will never join Johnston. Its numbers are too small to cut a path through the enemy. Grant will be at the Southside road before the first of April; Lee will evacuate his lines, which he will be compelled to hold to the last moment; he will retreat; be intercepted; be hunted down toward Lynchburg, and either surrender, or be butchered. Cheerful, isn’t it?” “It is frightful!”