“MY DEAR GENERAL: I have an opportunity of writing to your Excellency, which I will not miss by any means, even should I be afraid of becoming tedious and troublesome; but if they have sent me far from you, I don’t know for what purpose, at least I must make some little use of my pen, to prevent all communication from being cut off between your Excellency and myself. I have written lately to you my distressing, ridiculous, foolish, and indeed nameless situation. I am sent with great noise, at the head of an army, for doing great things; the whole continent, France and Europe herself, and what is the worst, the British army, are in great expectations. How far they will be deceived, how far we shall be ridiculed, you may judge by the candid account you have got of the state of affairs. “There are things, I dare say, in which I am deceived; a certain colonel is not here for nothing; one other gentleman became very popular before I came to this place: Arnold himself is very fond of him. Every side on which I turn to look I am sure a cloud is drawn before my eyes; but there are points I cannot be deceived upon. The want of money, the dissatisfaction among the soldiers, the disinclination of every one (except the Canadians, who thereby would stay at home) for this expedition, are as conspicuous as possible. I am sure I shall become very ridiculous and be laughed at. _My expedition_ will be as famous as the _secret expedition_ against Rhode Island. I confess, my dear General, that I find myself of very sensitive feelings whenever my reputation and glory are concerned in anything. It is very hard indeed that such a part of my happiness, without which I cannot live, should depend upon schemes which I never knew of but when there was no time to put them into execution. I assure you, my most dear and respected friend, that I am more unhappy than I ever was.