"One reverend divine publicly declared the other day, that 'God had put
a hook in Sherman's nose, and was leading him to his destruction!' I
don't think it looks much like it!"
The speaker was stopped by a fit of coughing, and when it had subsided,
leaned back, faint and exhausted, in his chair.
"The fact is--Sherman--" he said, with difficulty, "seems to have--the
hook in--_our_ nose!"
There was something grim and lugubrious in the smile which accompanied
the painfully uttered words. A long silence followed them, which was
broken by neither of us. At last I raised my head, and said:--
"I find you less hopeful than last summer. At that time you were in
good spirits, and the tone of the _Examiner_ was buoyant."
"It is hopeful still," he replied, "but by an effort--from a sentiment
of duty. I often write far more cheerfully than I feel, colonel."[1]
[Footnote 1: His words.]
"Your views have changed, I perceive--but you change with the whole
country."
"Yes. A whole century has passed since last August, when you visited me
here. One by one, we have lost all that the country could depend
on--hope goes last. For myself, I began to doubt when Jackson fell at
Chancellorsville, and I have been doubting, more or less, ever since.
He was _a dominant man_, colonel, fit, _if any thing happened_, to rise
to the head of affairs.
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