With regard to the Speeches of Mr. Clay, no labor has been spared in seeking for them, and it is believed that few, if any, which have been reported, will be found wanting in our collection. A brief memoir has been prefixed to each, illustrative of the subject and occasion on which it was delivered, and the fate of the question. In this labor we have been materially assisted by Mr. EDWIN WILLIAMS, the former secretary of the American Institute; a gentleman well known for his accuracy and ability in historical and statistical matters. In giving the result of our investigations, we express our fears that it will be found to contain imperfections, notwithstanding our endeavors to guard against them. It has been exceedingly difficult to speak of Mr. Clay’s eminent acts, without sliding imperceptibly into the path of eulogy. This, perhaps, has led to the error of saying too much sometimes, and too little at others. For defects of this nature, however, the intelligent reader will require no apology. But the deficiency most prominent, and one which we lament most sincerely, is, that of not having done justice to his transcendent talents and abilities as an orator. For this, an excuse must be furnished by our incompetency; the consciousness of which fell upon us, with overwhelming force, as we stood in the presence of his eloquence. We watched its wonderful and spirit-like movements and operations, and turned away from the task of adequate description, as we would have shrank from the fruitless endeavor to take the dimensions of a boundless and unfathomable ocean. Attempts at describing it we have indeed made, but they are abortive――dim shadows of its noble substance, and tenantless abodes of its beauty. Our belief of the utter impossibility to convey an adequate idea of it through the medium of written or verbal statement, has been confirmed by the opinion of those who have often beheld its manifestations. A distinguished senator remarked to us very recently, that Mr. Clay’s eloquence was absolutely intangible to delineation――that the most labored and thrilling description could not embrace it, and that, to be understood, it must be seen and felt. Neither is it contained in those inimitable productions of mind――his speeches. Abundant evidences of its magic influence are found in these. The monuments heaved up by its hand of power, stand thick about its gorgeous pathway, which runs through them all like a golden tissue, but _it_ is not there. Its nature is too closely allied to etheriality to find a fit terrestrial abode.