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BY DAVID OVER.
MOM AX'S LOVE. IV hen man is waxing frail, And his hand is thin and weak Ami his lips are parched and pale. And wau anil white hi i cheek ; Oli then doth women prove . tier constancy and love I She setteth by his chair, And holds his feeble hand She watclieth ever there, His wants to understand. His yet unspoken will She hasteneth to fullill. She leads him when the moon Is bright"over dale and hill, And all things save the tune Of the honey-bees are still. Into the garden bowers, Tc sit midst herbs and flowers. And when lie goes not there, To feed 0:1 breath ami bloom, She brings the posy rare Into his darkened room ; Ami 'neath his weary head The pillow smooth doth spread. Until the hour whore death His lamp of life doth dim, She never wcarioth She never lea vet h him Still near him night and day, She meets his eye always. And when his trial's o'er And the turf"s on his breast, Deep in her bosom's core Lie sorrows unexpressed, Her tears, her sighs are weak, lier settled grief to speak. And though they may arise Balm for her spirit's pain And lhut. ii her quiet eyes May sometimes smile again; Still, still, she must regret : Slie never can forget! i WOl Li) WED Fi)2i TKPE LOVE. IJY Til OS. i\ HTZSUI.MO.NS. 1 would not wed for beauty, for beauty will decay; 1 would not wed for ichvs, For riches waste awjj; 1 would not wed for splendor, for times may sadly change; But 1 wuM wed for true love, to soothe my aching pains. I'd, 1 woulu tved for true love, '1 Liu joy of every heart— It soothes the dying pillow When loved ones yon must part, it soothes the dying pillow When to rest with the lov'd ones you'd fain, And breath a hope into the soul in heaven to meet again. Lady, 'tis not because thou'rt handsome That 1 do love tiiee so, But tis because thou'rt faithful To the heart that's true to you; And if my hopes upon this earth Can never be realized, A vision sjieaks that !t will again Beyond the deep bine skies. Ethan Allen in Captivity. Among the episodes of the Revolution .rv war, none is more strange than that ot the queer genius, Ethan Allen. In Eng land, the event and the man being equally uncommon, Allen seemed to have been a curious combination of a Hercules, a Joe Miller,a Bayard and a Tom Ileycr. ile had a person "like the Belgian giant, mountain music like a Swiss, and a heart pluuip as Coeur de Lion's. Though born in New England, be exhibited no traces of her character, except that his heart beat wildly for his country's freedom. lie was frank, bluff, companionable as a harvest. For the most part Allen's manner while in England was scornful and ferocious in the last degree, although qualified at times by a heroic sort of levity. Aside from the inevitable egotism relatively pertaining to pine trees, spires and giants, there were, perhaps, tw '° special, incidental reasons for the Titanic Vcruiontcr's singular demeanor abroad. Taken captive wbtle beading a forlorn bope before Montreal, he was treat ed with inexcusable cruelty and indiguity. Immediately upon his capture, be would have been deliberately butchered by the In dian allies in cold blood upon the spot, bad he not with desperate iutrepidity availed himself of his enormous physical strength by twitching a British officer and using him lor a target, whirling bun around and round against the murderous tomahawks of the savages. Shortly afterwards, led into the town, fenced about with the bayonets of the guard, the commander of the enemy, one Col. McCloud, flourished his cane over his captive's head, with brutal insults, proniis 'ng him a rebel's halter at Tyburn. Lur ing his passage to England in the same ship wherein went passenger Col. Guy Johnson, the implacable Tory, he was kept heavily ironed in the hold, and in all respects was tieaten like a mutiueer; or it may be, rath er as a lion wf Aria, which, though cagedj IV is too Irea lful to behold without fear and A Weekly Paper, Devoted to Literature, Politics, the Arts, Sciences, Agriculture, &c., &c—Terms: Two Dollars per annum. trembling. And no wonder, at least, for on one occasion, when chained hand and foot, he was insulted by an officer. With his teeth he twisted off the nail that went through the mortise of his handcuffs, and so having his arms at liberty, challenged the insulter to mortal combat. Often when at Pedannis castle, when no other revengemeut was at hand he would hurl on his foes such a howling tempest of anathemas as fairly shook them into retreat. Prompted by somewhat similar motives, both on shipboard and in England, be woule often make the most vociferous allusions to 'J'iconderoga and the part he played in its capture, well knowing that of all the American names Ticonderoga was, at that period, by far the most famous and galling to the English men. Israel Potter, an exile American, while strolling around Pedennis Castle, where Al len was confined, chanced to hear him in one of his outbursts of indignation and madness, of which the following is a speci men: "Brag no more, old England; consider that yon are only an island! Order tack your btokon battalions, and repent in ashes. Ismg enorfgh have your hired tories across the sea forgotten the lxird their God, and bowed down to llowe and Knipbausen—the Hessian. Hands off, redskinned jackall! Wearing the King's plate, as I do, (mean ing, probably, certain manacles,) I have treasures of wrath against you British.' Then came a clanking as of chains, many vengeful sounds, all confusedly together. Then again the voice. 'Ye brought me out hero, from my dun geon to this green,affronting yon Sabbath sun, to see how a rebel looks. But I'll show you how a true gentleman and chris tian can conduct himself in adversity.— Back dogs! respect a gentleman and a chris tian though he be in rags and smell of bilge water. Yes, shine on, glorious sun, it is the same that warms the hearts of my Green Mountain boys, and lights np with its rays the golden hills of Vermont.* Filled with astonishment at these words, which came from a massive wall, including what seemed an open parade space, Israel pressed forward, and soon came to a black archway leading within, underneath, to a grassy tract, through a tower. Like two boar's tusks two sentries stood at either side of the open jaws of the arch. Scruti nizing our adventurer a moment they sign ed him to enter. * Arriving at the end of the arched way— whore the sun shone, Israel stood transfix ed at the seen*?. Like some baited bull in t'ue ring, crouch ed tlie gigantic captive, handcuffed as be fore, the grass of the green trampled and gored up all about liitn, both by bis own movements and those of the people around. Except some soldiers and sailors, these seemed mostly town's people, collected here out of curiosity. The stranger was out la ndishly arrayed in the,sorry remains of a half Indian half Canadian sort of a dress consisting of a faun skin jacket—the fur outside end hanging in ragged tufts—a half lotten helt of wampum, aged britches ot sasathy, the darned worsted stockings reach ing to the knee, old moccasins, riddled with holes, their metal tags yellow with salt wa ter rust, faded red woollen bonnet, not un like a Russian nightcap, or a portentom, ensanguined full moon, all soiled and stuck about rotten straw, unsbnven beard, matted and profuse a? a cornfield beaten down by hailstones. IJis whole marred aspect was that of a wild beast, but a royal sort and un subdued by the cage. 'Aye, stare! stare! you but last night dragged me out of a ship's hold like a smutty ticroc, and this morning out of your littered barracks there, like a murderer— for all that you may well stare at Ethan T'condcroga Allen, the conquered soldier, by You Turks never saw a Chris tian before. Htare on. I am he who, when your Lord Howe wanted to bribe a patriot to fall down and worship him by an offer of a Major Generalship, and five thou sand acres of choice land in old Vermont (ha! three times three for glorious Ver mont and the Green Mountain Boys! hur rah! hurrah! hurrah!) lain be, I say, who answered your Lord llowo: 'You you offer our land ? You arc like the devil in Scrip ture, offering all the kingdoms iu the worldj when the cursed soul had not a corner lot on earth! Stare on, I say!' 'Look, you rebel you, you bad best heed how you talk against General Lord Howe, here,' said a thin, wasp waisted, epaulettod officer of the castle, coming uear and flour ishing his sword about him like a school master's ferrule. 'General Lord Ilowe! Heed how I talk of that toad-hearted king's lickspittle of a poltroon, the vilest wriggler in God's worm home below. I tell you the hordes of red-haired devils are impatiently shouting to ladle Lord Ilowe with his gang —you included—into tbeseethiDgest syrups of Tophet'B hottest flames ' At this blast the wasp waisted officer was blown backwards as from the suddenly burst head of a steam boiler. Staggering away with a snapped spine, he muttered some thing about its being beneath his dignity to bandy forth words with a low lived rebel. 'Come, Col. Allen,' said a mild looking man, in a sort of clerical undress, 'rospect the day better than to talk thus of what lies beyond. Were you to die this hour, or what is more probable, be hung next week at Tower wharf, you know not what might become of yourself.' 'Reverend sir,' said Allen, with a mock iug bow, 'when uo better employed than braiding niy beard, I have dabbled a littlo in your theologies. And lot me tell you, reverend sir,' lowering and intensifying his voice, 'that as to the world of spirits of which you hiut, though I know nothing of the mode or manner of that world more than you do, yet I expect, when I arrive there, to be treated as any other gentleman of my merit. That is to say, far better than you British know how to tieat an hon est man and a meek hearted christian cap tured in honorable war, by ! Every one tells nic, as yourself just told me, as crossing the sea, every billow dinned in my ear, that I, Ethan Allen, am to be hung like a thief. If I am, the Great Jehovah and the Continental Congress shall avenge me, while I, for my part, will show you, even on the tree, how a christian gentleman can die. Meantime, sir, if you arc the cler gyman yon look, act your consolatory func tion by getting an unfortunate christian geu tleman, about to die, a glass of punch.' The good natnred stranger, not to have his religious courtesy appealed to in vain, immediately dispatched his servant, who stood by, to procure the beverage. At this juncture, a faint rustling sound, as if the advancing of an army with ban ners, was heard. Silks, scarfs and ribbons fluttered in the background. Presently a bright squadron of bright ladies drew nigh, escorted by certain out riding gallants of Falmouth. 'Ah,' said a strange voice, 'what a strange sash, and furred vest, and what leopard like •teeth, and what flaxencd hair, but all mil dewed; is that he?' ♦Yes it is, lovely charmer,' said Allen, like en Ottoman, bowing over his broad bo vine, and breathing the words out like a lute; 'it is he—Ethan Allen, the soldier; now, since ladies' visit him, made trebly a captive.' 'Why, he talks like a beau in the parlor —this wild mossed American from the wood' sighed another foir lady to her mate; but cau this be he we came to sec? I must have a lock of his hair.' 'lt is he, adorable Delilah; an l fear not tlio' excited by the foe, by clipping uiy lock to dwindle my strength. Give me your sword, man.' turning to an officer—'ah, I'm fettered. Clip it yourself, lady.' 'No, no. I am—' 'Afraid, would you say? Afraid of the sword—friend and champion of all the la dies, all round the world? Nay, nay, come hither.' The lady advanced, and soon overcoming her timidity,her white hand shone like whip ped foam among the waves of flaxen hair. 'Ah, this is like clipping tangled tags of gold luce,' she cried, 'but sec, it is half straw." 'But the wearer i 3 no man of straw, la dy; were I free, and you had ten thousand foes, horse foot and dragoons—how like a fric i I could fight for you. Come—you have robbed me of my hair, let uic rob the dainty hand of its price. What, afraid again?' 'No, not that, but—' 'I see, lady, I may do it by your leave, but not by your word—the wonted way of all the ladies. There, it is done. Sweeter that kiss than the bitter heart of the cherry.' When at length this lady left, no small talk was had by her with her companions about relieving the lot of so knightly and unfortunate a man, whereupon a worthy, ju dicious gentleman of middle age, in atten dance, suggested a bottle of wine every day, and clean linen every week. And theSe the English women —too polite and too good to be fastidious—did actually send to Ethan Allen, so long as he tarried a captive in their land. The withdrawal of this company was fol lowed by a different scene. A perspiring man in top boots, a riding whip in hand, and having the air of a prosperous farmer, brushod in like a stray bullock, among the rest, for a peep at the giaut—having just entered through the arch as the ladies passed out. 'Hearing that the man who took Ticon deroga was here in Pedenuis Castle, I've rid den twenty-five miles to sec him, aud to- BEDFORD, PA., FRIDAY, JULY 111856. morrow my brother will ride forty for the same purpose. So let me have tbo same look, sir,' ha continued, addressing the cap tive, 'will yon let me ask you a few ques tions, and be free with you? 'Be free with me? With all my heart.— I love freedom above all things; I'm ready to die for freedom; I expect to. So be as free as you please. NY hat is it?' 'Then, sir, permit mo to ask what is your occupation in life? in time of peace, I mean.' 'You talk like a tax gatherer,' replied Allen, squinting diabolically at him. 'What is my occupation in life? N\ hy, n my younger days, I studied divinity, but at present 1 am a conjurer by profession.' Hereupon everybody laughed, as well at the manner as at the words, and the net tled farmer retorted. 'Conjurer, eh? Well you conjured wrong that time you were taken.' 'Not so wrong, though, as you British did, that time I took Ticonderoga my friend.' At this juncture the servant came iu with a bowl of puncb, which his master bade him give to the captive. 'No, give it to me, sir, with your own hands, and pledge me as a gentleman to a gentleman.' 'I cannot pledge a state prisoner, Colonel Allen, but 1 will hand you the punch with my own hand, since you insist upou it.' 'Spoken and done like a true gentleman; I am to yon.' Then receiving the punah into his mana cled hands, the iron ringing against the chain, he put the bowl to bis lips, saying, 'I hereby give the British nation credit for hall a minute's good usage,' and at one draught emptied it to the bottom. 'The rebel gulps it dowu like a swilling hog at the trough,' here scoffed a lusty pri vrte ot the guard off duty. 'Shame on you,' cried the giver of the bowl. ♦Nay, sir, his red eoat is a blush to him, as it is to the whole British army. Tbcu looking derisively at the private, 'you ob ject to my way of takiug things, do you? — I fear I shall never be able to please you. You objected to the way, too, in which 1 took Ticonderoga, and the way 1 meant to take Montreal. Selah! but pray, now 1 look at vou, arc yon not the hero I caught dodging around in bis shirt, in the cattle pen inside the fort? It was the break of day, remember.' 'Come, Yankee, here swore the incensed private, 'cease this, or I'll tan your old fawn skin for ye with the flat of this sword for a specimen;' laying it lash wise but not heavily across the captive's back. Turning, liko a tiger, the giant, catching the steel between his teeth, wrenched it from the private's grasp, and striking ii with his manacles, sent it spinning like a juggler's dagger into the air, saying, 'lay your dirty coward's iron on a tied gentleman again, and these' lifting lis handcuffed fists, 'shall I be the beetle of mortality to you.' The now furious soldier would have struck him with all his force, but several men of the town interposing, reminded him that it was outrageous to attack a chained cap tive. 'Ah,' said Allen, 'I am accustomed to that, and therefore I am beforehand with you; and the extremity of what 1 say against Britain is not meant for you, kiud friends, but for my msultcrs present and to come.' Then recognizing among the interposers the giver of the bowl, he turned with a cor teons bow. saying, 'Thank you again and again, my good sir; you may not bo the worse for it; ours is an unstable world, so that one gentleman never knows when it may be his turn to be helped of another.' The soldier still making a riot and the commotion growing general, a superior of ficer stepped up, who determined the scene by removing the prisoner to the cell, dis missing the townspeople, with all strangers, Israel among the rest, and closing the castle after them. ROMANISTS SWEARING. —In a late reply to a Roman Cliolie, Brownlow, of the Knoxville Whig, has the following very sig | nificant paragraph: "But one word more about swearing.— During our Circut Court, some of your Catholic scavengers were brought into Court "by Mr. MoAdoc, the Attorney General, to testify in cases of unlawful gaming and re tailing of spiritous liquors —they were sworn upon our Protestant Scriptures, and every one of them swore lies, by testifying that they knew just nothingl The Attorney General then produced a Cathlic Bible, with a cross on its back—made them ex amine it, swore ibem on that, and thoy dis gorged more than it was supposed they knew! Can Protestants suffer such men to be cal led into one of our courts to give testimony against them' Never HENRY CLAY AND JAMES BUCHANAN. Iu giving place to the subjoined article from the Louisville Journal , we think it proper to preface it with a narrative given us by a venerable citizen of this place, who at the time alluded to, was an active and earnest friend of Gen. Jackson, and a re sident of Baltimore city. Ho says, that when a copy of Mr. Buchanan's letter in reply to Gen. Jackson' 3 reference to him, as the witness to prove the charge of "Bar gain and Intrigue" against Henry Clay, was received in Baltimore, a coterie of the leading men of the Jackson party had as sembled at the office of the Republican, of which Dabney S. Carr was editor, to hear the letter read. Mr. Carr read it. A moment's pause ensued, which was inter rupted by the remark from William Frick, Ef|., that "Buchanan's letter don't sustain Gen. Jackson." Mr. Carr immediately rejoiued: "By G—! gentleman, we must say it does sustain Gen. Jackson. Our success depends upon saying so. The Washington Globe will be here to-morrow, (this was before the railroad was construct ed,) coutainiug an editorial, in which it will be insisted that the letter fully sustains him, in every particular, and we must say so too. I shall say so, iu my leader in to-morrow's Republican, simultaneously with the Globe." Our informant says, thai after some further explanation, it was agreed to put the con struction on Buchanan's letter, which the whole democratic party afterwards put on it, and which Mr. Buchanan suffered it to bear, to the political ruin of Henry Clay, for such a long series of years. It will be observed that iu Mr. Bucban au's letter to Mr. Letcher in 1814, be dis tinctly intimates that he did Mr. Clay "ample justice," in his letter iu answer to Gen. Jackson," meaning, that that letter did not sustain Gen. Jackson's charge, and yet by his silence for a quarter of a centu ry, he permitted the injurious construction to operate against Mr. Clay. Out upou such hypocrisy aud meanness'— Frederick Examiner. [From the Louisville Journal.] Henry Clay and James Lucfinnaa. NVe hope that what we are now about to write, will command the attention of all ho nest and honorable men and especially of old-line Whigs, the former supporters of Henry (Jiay and the present reverers of his memory. The boast lias been made that the old line NVhigs will as a general rule support Mr. Buchanan for the Presidency. NY e shall see. All of our old politicians have a vivid recollection of the leading events of the election of President by the House of Re presentatives in the early part of 1825. — Mr. Clay was then a member of the House and he east his vote and influence in favor of John Quincy Adams, who was eleeled over Gen. Jackson and Mr. Crawford.— Mr. Clay was subseqently selected by Mr. Adams as his Secretary of State. At a later period Mr. Clay was charged by his political enemies with haviug sold his vote to .Mr. Adams for the Secretaryship, and wc all know that this cruel aud monstrous charge, though abundantly refuted in every form iu which refutation was possible or conceivable, involved to a great extent, the ruin of Mr. Clay's political fortunes. But frr that charge, he would afterwards have been elected President of the United States almost by acclamation. Foremost among those who charged that Mr. Clay's vote was given to Mr. Adams 011 account of a promise of the Secretary ship of State was Gen. Jackson. The Ge neral gave the name of Mr. Buohanau as his authority for the truth of tiie charge.— Mr. Buchanan had held a private conver sation with him on the subject, making such stateiueuts as left no doubt upon the subject in the General's mind. In fact the General did not hesitate to say, after that interview, that Mr. Buchanan had come to him with full authority from Mr. Clay or his friends to propose terms to him in relation to their votes: that is, to propose to vote for him for the Presidency, if he would promise office to Mr. Clay. Of course, Mr. Buchanan was called on to put into the form of a let ter what he knew upou the subject, and what he had stated to Gen. Jackson. He accord ingly wrote the letter which afterwards be caiuo famous in the controversy. The letter was most adroitly written, with a view to relieve the author from the excessively pain ful position in which he stood. He dared not say that he ever had any authority from Mr. Clay or his friends to propose terms to Gen. Jackson, yet he carefully so shaped his language as to afford Mr. Clay's politi cal enemies a pretext for repeating tue atro cious calumny against him. He expressed his own belief of the bargain aud corrup tion story. He said . "The fuels are before the world thai Air. Clay and his particular friends made .Mr- J]dams President, and Clay Secretary of State. The people will draw their own in ference from suck conduct and the circum stances connected with, it. They will judge of the 'cvuse from the effect." Mr. Clay and Lis friends regarded Mr. Buchanan's letter as exculpating him and them from the charge of having authorized Mr. B. to propose terms to General Jackson in relation to their votes, and so indeed it did. And yet it was so cunningly written that the whole of Mr- Clay's political ene mies throughout the nation considered it and treated it not as a vindication of the Kentucky statesman, but as "confirmation strong" of the truth of the accusation against biiu. Thus the whole calumny ori ginated iu Mr. Buchanan's statement to General Jackson, and, when the author of the statement was required by Jaokson or bis organ to write it out in the shape of a letter, he so performed the appointed task, as while shrinking from any direct confir mation of the impression be had previously given to Gen. Jackson, to afford a pretext to the whole Jackson party to assail Mr. Clav as a traitor to his country, and there was not a Jackson newspaper or a Jack sen politician in the nation that did not treat Mr. Buchanan's letter as evi dence of bargain, intrigue, and corruption between Mr. Adams and Mr. Clay. The specific charge, as already stated, which was made against Mr. Clay, and which Mr. Buchanan was cited as a witness to prove, was that Mr. C. had proposed to make Gen. Jackson President if he himself could be Secretary of Siate. This charge involviug the inference that Air. Clay did vote for Mr. Adams for the promise of the Secretaryship, was the charge by means of which the party, that Mr. Buchanan then acted with and ever afterwaids acted with, broke down the greatest and host man of his age. And now. fellow-countrymen, we ask yu to mark the final development of facts. The real truth is, that instead of Mr. Clay's I suggesting to Mr. Buchanan duiing the pendencv of the Presidential election in the House of Representatives in 1825 that he and his friends would support General Jackson if he could have the Secretaryship of State under him. Mr. Buchanan himself actually sought Mr. Ciay, and, in the pre sence of a third gentleman, explicitly de clared to him, that iu the event of his vot ing for Gen. Jackson and the election of the latter, he would have the Secretaryship. Mr. Clay's intimate persona! friends often heard him make this statemout in the after vears of his life, aud we, with half a dozen others, heard him say in the Presidential campaign of 1814 that he would not be willing to die without leaving it on record. And lie did uot die without leaving it on record. Af. w years ago Mr. Calvin Col ton published the Life of Henry Clay, in the preparation of which lie visited Ashland aud had free access to many of Mr. Clay's private papers, flc devoted a considerable pnrtiou of his book to the old bargain, in trigue and corruption story, and Mr. Ciay wrote out one passage of it with his own band. That passage was incorporated in the volume word for word as it eame from the veuerauie statesman s pen. Lot the American people read it auJ pouder upon it. Here it is : "Some time iu January, eighteen hund red and twenty-five, aud uot long before the election of President of the United States by the House of Representatives, the Hon. James Buchanan,* then a member of the House, and aftet wards many years a Sena tor of the United Slates from Pensylvaniu, who had been a zealous and influential sup porter of General Jackson iu the preceding canvass, and was supposed to eDjoy his un bounded confidence, called at the lodgings of Mr. Clay, in the city of Washington.— Mr. Clay was at the time in tbe room of his only messmate iu the House, his intimate and confidential friend, the lion. R. P. Letcher, since Governor of Kentucky,then also a member of the House. Shortly after Mr. Buchanan's entry into the room he in troduced the subject of the approaching Presidential election, and spoke of the cer tainty of the election of his favorite, adding that he would form the most splendid cabi net that the country had ever had. Mr. Letcher asked, how could he have oue more distinguished than that of Mr. Jefferson, IB which were both Madison and Gallatin ! Where would he be able to find equally eminent men? Mr. Buchanan replied, 'lie i would not go out of the room for a Secrc- ' tary of Bute,' lookiug at Mr. Clay. This gentleman (Mr. Clay) playfully remarked toat ho thought there was no timber there fit for a cabinet officer, unless it were Mr. Buchanan himself. "Mr. Clay, while he was so hotly assailed with tho charge of bargain, intrigue and corruption during tho administration of Mr. Adams, notified Mr. Buchauau of his inten tion to publish the above occurrence, but by the earuest entreaties of thatgeutlcmau, he was induced to forbear doing so." This passage, we repeat, was written by- Mr. Clay's own hand. Wo learned the fact from Mr. Clay himself, from Mr. Coltou, and from an eminently respected relative of Mr. Clay. The g r c.u Kentackian who had YOI. 29, NO 28. bourne the weight of bitter calumny for more than twenty years, and seen his high est political hopes crushed and blasted, by it, did not choose to submit to it longer out of tenderness to the reputation of an old political enemy; and the deepest regret felt by hie. best friends is, that he submitted to it so long. Mr. Buchanan it appears, might, wh"u called on for his testimony in 1825, have testified that Mr. Clay, far from hav ing signified that he would support General Jackson for the Presidency in consideration of the Secretaryship of State, had positive ly rejected such a bargain, proffered to him by Mr. Buchanan himself. Whatever of dishonor, whatever of infamy, there could be in bargain, intrigue, and corruption, at tached to Mr. Buchanan. We do not be lieve that he had any authority from Gener al Jackson to say what he said to Mr. Clay, yet he professed to utter fact and not opin ion. He undertook to assert, as from au thority, that Gen. Jackson would form the most splendid cabinet the country ever had, and that Mr. Clay, if lie should support him, would be his Secretary of State. Mr. Clay stated, in the passage he wrote out for Col ton's biography of him, while lie was so hotly assailed with the charge of bargain and corruption during the Adams administration, he notified .Mr. Buchajjan of his intcntiou to publish the occurrende iu question hut was induced by that gentlc meu'.s earnest entreaties to forbear doing So. Mr Colton said, in his biography, that he had understood that several times in later yeais Mr. Clay had intimated to Mr. Buchanan that it might be his duty to pub ltsh the facts, and that he was dissuaded from it ty Mr. Buchanan. We also know that Mr. Clay often betweon 1825 and 1845, contemplated polishing the fuets and was vehemently urged by his political friends to do so as a matter of justice not merely to Lis own fame hut to his party, and that he was prevented only l.y Mr. Buchanan's entreaties. Gov. Letcher, who was present at the interview, in January, 1825, and heard all that passed, was always of opinion teat Mr. Clay ought to make the publication, and told him so, but Mr. Clay was long suffering; and carried his goncrosity too far. 3lr. Letcher, it seems, aftor the interview of January, 1825, relieved Mr. Buchanan's apprehension by the assurance that he would not publish the facts of the interview without Mr. Buchanan's conseut. But so strong and deep was Mr. Letcher's con viction that the facta ought to be published that he wrote to Mr. Buchanan upon the subject, during the great Presidential con flict of 1844, declaring, however, in his letter, that he would not violate the pledge he had originally givou. Mr. Buchanan replied, depreciating tho publication and re quiring the observance of the pleugo.— Thercply was made with Mr. Buchanan's characteristic cunning, and we give it be low, entire. One might think, ftom tbe language of his ictter, that he had no dis tinct recollectioD .f the conversation with Mr. Clay it) Mr. Letcher's romn, in Janua ry, 1825, and yet that very conversation, exceedingly cmphatieal as it was had been from the very first and though ail the en suing years, a matter of the deepest anxiety and even agitation to Air. Buchanan, who as Mr. Clay has testified under his own hand, had earnestly entreated that it might not be given to the world. Here is Mr. Buch anan's letter to Mr. Letcher: Mr. Buchanan to R. P. Letcher. LANCASTER, June 27, 1814. My DEAR BIR: I this moment received your very kind letter and hasten to give it an answer. I cannot perceive what good purpose it would subserve Mr. Clay to publish the private and unreserved conver sation to which you rofer. 1 was then his ardent frieud aud admirer; aud much this ancieut feeliug still survives, notwith standing our political difference siuce. 1 did him ample justice but no more than jus tice, both in my speech on Chilton's reso lutions and in my letter iu answer to Gen. Jackson. 1 have not myself any very distinct re collection of what transpired iu your room nearly twouty years ago, but doubtless 1 expressed a strong wish to himself, as 1 had done a huudred times to others, that he might vote for Gen. Jackson; and it he de_ sired it, become his Secretary of State.— Had voted for General m ease of his elec tion, I should most certainly have exercised any influence 1 might have possessed to ac complish this result; and this I should have dona from the most disinterested, friendly and patriotic motives. This conversation of mine, whatever it may have been, can never be brought home to Gen. Jackson. I never had but one con versation wi'h biiu oa tbe subject of the then peudiug election; and that upon the street, and the whole of it verbatim ti lit*