many to regret, who zealously sought, its overthrow, and fervently pray for its return. A few days after general Jackson’s inauguration into the presidential chair, Mr. Clay prepared to return to the retirement and the social delights of his home; where, at his leisure, he could review his public acts, and devise new measures for benefiting his country. About the time of his departure from Washington, his friends residing in that city, as a testimonial of their regard for his private and public character, gave him a dinner. In a speech, on that occasion, he alluded to his public career, and the duties of citizenship, in the following beautiful language. ‘Whether I shall ever hereafter take any part in the public councils or not, depends upon circumstances beyond my control. Holding the principle that a citizen, as long as a single pulsation remains, is under an obligation to exert his utmost energies in the service of his country, if necessary, whether in a public or private station, my friends here and every where may rest assured, that, in either condition, I shall stand erect, with a spirit unconquered, whilst life endures ready to second their exertions in the cause of liberty, the union, and the national prosperity.’ Of general Jackson he remarked, ‘that citizen has done me much injustice. It was inflicted, as I must ever believe, for the double purpose of gratifying private resentment, and promoting personal ambition. When, during the late canvass, he came forward in the public prints, under his proper name, with his charge against me, and summoned before the public tribunal his friend and his _only_ witness, (Mr. Buchanan,) to establish it, the anxious attention of the whole American people was directed to the testimony which that witness might render. He promptly obeyed the call, and testified to what he knew. He _could_ say nothing, and he _said nothing_ which cast the ♦slightest shade upon my honor or integrity. What he _did_ say was the reverse of any implication of _me_. Then all just and impartial men, and all who had faith in the magnanimity of my accuser, believed that he would make a public acknowledgement of his error. How far this reasonable expectation has been fulfilled, let his persevering and stubborn silence attest. But my relations to that citizen, by a recent event, are now changed. He is the chief magistrate of my country, invested with large and extensive powers, the administration of which may conduce to its prosperity, or occasion its adversity. Patriotism enjoins as a duty, that while he is in that exalted station he should be treated with decorum, and his official acts be judged of in a spirit of candor.’