According to the commissary, the number of those who commuted their pensions was about twelve hundred. Of these it is calculated that eight hundred reached Upper Canada; of these eight hundred, not more than four hundred and fifty are now living; and of these, some are begging through the townships, living on public charity: some are at Penetanguishene: and the greater part of those located on their land, have received from time to time rations of food, in order to avert "impending starvation." To bring them up from Quebec during the dreadful cholera season in 1832, was a heavy expense to the colony, and now they are likely to become a permanent burthen upon the colonial funds, there being no military funds to which they can be charged. I make no reflection on the commuting the pensions of these poor men at four instead of seven years' purchase: many of the men I saw did not know what was meant by _commuting their pension:_ they thought they merely gave up their pension for four years, and were then to receive it again; they knew nothing of Canada--had never heard of it--had a vague idea that a very fine offer was made, which it would be foolish to refuse. They were like children--which, indeed, disbanded soldiers and sailors usually are. All that benevolence and prudence _could_ suggest, was done for them by Sir John Colborne[59]: he aided them largely from his own purse--himself a soldier and a brave one, as well as a good man--the wrongs and miseries of these poor soldiers wrung his very heart. The strongest remonstrances and solicitations to the heads of the government at home were sent over in their behalf; but there came a change of ministry; the thing once done, could not be undone--redress was nobody's business--the mother country had got rid of a burthen, and it had fallen on Canada; and so the matter ended;--that is, as far as it concerned the Treasury and the War-office; but the tragedy has not yet ended _here_. Sir Francis Head, who never can allude to the subject without emotion and indignation, told me, that when he was at Penetanguishene last year, the poor veterans attempted to get up a feeble cheer in his honour, but, in doing so, the half of them fell down. "It was too much for me--too much," added he, with the tears actually in his eyes. As for Sir John Colborne, the least allusion to the subject seemed to give him a twinge of pain. From this sum of mischief and misery you may subtract a few instances where the men have done better; one of these I had occasion to mention. I have heard of two others, and there may be more, but the general case is as I have stated it.