Heretofore I've made suggestion that the General's knowledge of Van Buren was nothing deep, but only narrow and of a surface sort. More; the truth was that now when the General stood in the midst of this Eaton trouble and saw a long strife ahead, he was by no sense secure for the coming attitude of his premier, and went doubt-pricked as to whether or no it would turn to be a friendly one. I could discern some feather of these misgivings when one evening over our pipes we dwelt on Marcy and Van Buren, these two being topmost spirits of our party in their state. Marcy was a bold man, and strong with a burly force; as frank and without fear too, as a soldier, and less the hypocrite than any of his day. He had yet to say, from his seat in the Senate, “The politicians of my state wear no masks of superior goodness and make no pretences. They are content to preach what they practice. If they be defeated, they expect to step down and out; if they triumph, they look to enjoy the fruits of their victory. They see no harm in the aphorism, 'To the victor belongs the spoil of the enemy.'” Marcy, I say, had not yet uttered these words in the Senate; but they dwelt with him as a sentiment; he had given them expression in Duff Green's paper; and, since the General said nothing in negation, they were held to declare the feelings of the administration. Before this, I have written somewhere, have I not?--for old age can not hold a memory, nor tell a lucid story step by step, but forever must wander to the garrulous this-side-or-that, with topics alien to the task in hand--how I caught some flash of the General's uncertainty of Van Buren and the pose that gentleman would take on? It fell in this kind. I had asked then a question about Van Buren, and how he compared with his fellow captain, Marcy. The General shook uncertain head.