cannot be doubted that Mr. Clay very clearly foresaw that the contest would thus terminate, possessing as he did accurate knowledge of the state of the public mind, in relation to the subject of slavery; hence our surprise and admiration. It is not more certain that his efforts were earnest and vigorous in defence of the measure, than that they were prompted by disinterested motives. The nature of his circumstances at this period is such as to render it certain that he did not stop to estimate the consequences of defeat, either to his popularity or his purse; in short, that so far as personality was concerned, 'cui bono' was neither in his mind nor on his lips. How ridiculously absurd then, in the light of such abundant evidence to the contrary, the assertions of his enemies, that he was actuated by selfish motives, by an inordinate desire to attract attention. There was no ground for such a desire. In Kentucky, at least, his popularity would hardly admit of augmentation, and daily, and almost hourly the testimonials of approbation lavished upon him, and the high appreciation of his character, his services, and his talents, cannot be enumerated. Though defeated, he was not discouraged nor disheartened. Conscious that his action had been in accordance with his conviction of duty, he derived great consolation from the fact, and girded himself to do battle again for the same principle in a different connection.

Mr. Clay was a lover of Liberty, not exclusively on account of any particular advantages her possession might confer, but on account of her own intrinsic loveliness and inalienability. In looking at his political career, we find that his most gigantic efforts were put forth whenever he discovered a disposition to abridge her lawful exercise. It seems to have been even at its commencement a settled principle with him, to resist oppression under whatever form presented. This he discovered in the odious Alien and Sedition laws, enacted in 1798-9. These were anathematised by the democracy of the country, as hostile to our institutions, involving an unwarrantable assumption of power, manifestly unconstitutional, savoring strongly of tyrannical usurpation, and not to be tolerated. The Alien law empowered the president to command any alien whom he should judge dangerous to the peace and safety of the country, to depart out of the territory within such time as he should specify, under penalty of being imprisoned for a time not exceeding three years. The Sedition law was intended to guard against the abuse of speech and of the press. Besides subjecting to imprisonment, it imposed a heavy pecuniary fine, on such as combined, conspired, or united, to oppose any governmental measure, who should utter, write, print, publish, &c., any false, and scandalous, and malicious writing, against the government of the United States or the president, &c. The appearance of these laws was greeted with one general outburst of indignation, from one end of the land to the other, but in no section was the expression of disapprobation

more strongly marked or prompt than in Kentucky. In the front rank of those who opposed them stood young Clay, dealing blows so thick and heavy with the ponderous battle-axe of his eloquence, as to drive his foes in disorder and dismay from the field of political strife.

It is related that on one occasion the people had assembled in a large crowd in a grove near Lexington, to listen to a discussion to come off between the advocates and opposers of these laws. The greatest interest had been awakened, extensive preparation made by the combatants, and with the most inflammatory zeal they entered the lists. The assemblage was first addressed by Mr. George Nicholas, a gentleman of distinguished ability and commanding eloquence. His effort is represented as having been one of great vigor, and characterized by that logical and philosophical acumen, for which he was so celebrated. When he ceased, the populace, wrought up to the highest degree of enthusiasm, poured out their rapturous applause. Clay,' Clay,' was now loudly called from all directions, and as he ascended the stand, it was clearly perceptible by his eagle eye and compressed lips that no ordinary emotions were struggling in his bosom. As the spirit of the tempest finds the ocean when he descends in his mightiest energy, so he found the boisterous mass swelling to and fro like the surges of the deep. But he was at home doing his legitimate work, pouring the oil of eloquence over a turbulent sea of passion, until its tumultuous heavings subsided and left one quiet, calm, and unruffled surface. The subject in his hands appeared in a new light, and he soon succeeded in securing for it that attention which is accompanied with feelings too deep for utterance: like those experienced by one standing on the edge of a crater, gazing down into its fiery abyss. His predecessor had poured a flood of sunshine over the multitude, which caused those heartfelt, spontaneous out-gushings of joyful emotion, which are its usual comcomitants. But his office was that of the lightning's flash and thunder peal, hushing, awing, and subduing. When he closed there were no clamorous expressions, no deafening shouts of applause, but something far more significant he read in the quivering lips, indignant looks, and frowning brows around him; and heard, in the deep low growl that came up, a much more flattering tribute to his talents. He was followed by Mr. William Murray, an orator of great popularity, and well qualified to exhibit acceptably the merits of those laws, if indeed they possessed any. His efforts, however, were futile. The conviction of their pernicious tendency had been planted too deep in the minds of the people by Mr. Clay, to permit them to listen to their merits, or to allow them to believe that they had any. He would not have been suffered to proceed had not the previous speakers urgently solicited permission. Another attempt was made to reply, but the people could be restrained no longer, and made a

furious rush towards the place occupied by the speaker, who was compelled to make a precipitate retreat to escape personal violence. They now seized Nicholas and Clay, bore them on their shoulders to a carriage, and amid the most enthusiastic cheering, drew them through the streets of Lexington. A proud day was this for Mr. Clay; a day in which he earned a far more glorious title than any that royal hands could confer upon him, that of the 'great commoner.' It was the first of the bright days of the years of his fame the sure precursor of that unfading chaplet which time was destined to bind about his brow.

In 1803, Mr. Clay, in company with several of his personal friends, was spending several weeks at the Olympian Springs, in Bath county, for the benefit of his health, and during that time there was an election of members to the legislature. His friends, without his knowledge, and as appears contrary to his wishes, brought him forward as a candidate. The prospect of his election was not very flattering; indeed, it seemed to be impossible. Several candidates who were veterans in the business, had occupied the field sometime in advance of him, and besides electioneering warmly for themselves, employed the influence of powerful friends. Though he ran very well at the commencement, it was thought that he was somewhat behind. His opponents, besides using every legitimate, resorted to unfair means to accomplish his defeat, reporting that he was incapacitated for the office by ill health; that he did not desire, neither would accept it. Such measures in all probability would have been successful, had not his opportune return before the canvass had progressed very far, furnished occular proof of the falsehood of these assertions, and enabled him to counteract the influence of the slanderous reports put in circulation. It was repugnant to his feelings, contrary to his exalted ideas of honor, and did not comport with the dignity of the office to set forth personally his claims and qualifications. But yielding to the entreaties of his friends, and urged also by the base subterfuges and low intrigues every where practiced to defeat his election, he consented to enter the arena, and right well did he acquit himself, as the sequel will show. His remarks were few, exceedingly pertinent, conveying to the electors his views of state policy, refuting such of the reports as were false, and admitting such as were true: to wit, that he was young and inexperienced, that he had not proclaimed himself a candidate, nor sought their suffrage; but since his friends had seen proper to place his name before the people, it would be gratifying to them if he could be elected. While thus engaged in stump speaking, as it is termed in Kentucky, an incident occurred which it may not be amiss to relate. It illustrates his tact and ingenuity in seizing and turning to good account trivial circumstances, for which he is so celebrated, and to which he is indebted for the enviable title of being great in little things. He had been

engaged in speaking some time, when a company of riflemen, who had been performing military exercise, attracted by his attitude, concluded to go and hear what that fellow had to say, as they termed it, and accordingly drew near. They listened with respectful attention and evidently with deep interest, until he closed, when one of their number, a man about fifty years of age, who had evidently seen much backwoods service, stood leaning on his rifle, regarding the young speaker with a fixed and most sagacious look. He was apparently the Nimrod of the company, for he exhibited every characteristic of a mighty hunter,-buckskin breeches and hunting-shirt, coon-skin cap, black bushy beard, and a visage which, had it been in juxtaposition with his leathern bullet pouch, might have been taken for part and parcel of the same. At his belt hung the knife and hatchet, and the huge indispensable powder-horn across a breast bare and brown as the bleak hills he often traversed, yet which concealed as brave and noble a heart as ever beat beneath a fairer covering. He beckoned with his hand to Mr. Clay to approach him, who immediately complied. Young man,' said he, you want to go to the legislature, I see?' 'Why, yes,' replied Mr. Clay, yes, I should like to go, since my friends have seen proper to put me up as a candidate before the people; I do not wish to be defeated.' 'Are you a good shot?' The best in the country.' 'Then you shall go; but you must give us a specimen of your skill; we must see you shoot.' 'I never shoot any rifle but my own, and that is at home.' 'No matter, here is old Bess, she never fails in the hands of a marksman; she has often sent death through a squirrel's head one hundred yards, and daylight through many a red skin twice that distance; if you can shoot any gun you can shoot old Bess.'Well, put up your mark, put up your mark,' replied Mr. Clay. The target was placed at the distance of about eighty yards, when, with all the coolness and steadiness of an old experienced marksman, he drew old Bess to his shoulder and fired. The bullet pierced the target near the centre. Oh, a chance shot! a chance shot!' exclaimed several of his political opponents. A chance shot! He might shoot all day and not hit the mark again; let him try it over, let him try it over.' 'No; beat that, beat that, and then I will,' retorted Mr. Clay. But as no one seemed disposed to make the attempt, it was considered that he had given satisfactory proof of being the best shot in the county; and this unimportant incident gained him the vote of every hunter and marksman in the assembly, which was composed principally of that class of persons, as well as the support of the same throughout the county. The most remarkable feature respecting the whole transaction is yet to be told. Said Mr. Clay, 'I had never before fired a rifle, and have not since.' The result of the election proved Mr. Clay much more popular than it had been supposed he was; he was elected almost by acclamation. Our astonishment may well

be excited, when we consider that this was the first time that he was a candidate for an office, and the circumstances under which it took place. It must be certain that he was esteemed a young man of great promise and ability. That confidence he seems so early to have inspired he has ever retained, and it is a no less just than flattering tribute to his worth, that where he is known best, there he is esteemed the most. This appears from the fact that the citizens of Fayette county have never refused him an office when brought forward by his friends as a candidate.

At the time of his election to this, his first office, the public mind was much agitated in reference to the Lexington Insurance Company. Felix Grundy, a political partizan of great eminence, had proclaimed himself hostile to its existence, and expressed his intention to move the repeal of its charter. This question was brought to bear directly on the election, and as the views of Mr. Clay were known to be opposed to his, he was selected to advocate the claims of the institution. The attempt made during the ensuing session to procure the repeal of the incorporating law was easily defeated by him, but in the succeeding one Mr. Grundy himself was a member, and a majority of the House came pledged to support the measures advocated by him. Argument in such a state of things it was thought would avail little; for the representative, feeling bound to obey the will of his constituents, would be compelled to vote for the repeal, although convinced of its injustice. The debate that ensued was one of great ability, conducted by Mr. Clay and Mr. Grundy, and attracted crowds of spectators. They were both young, aspiring after forensic honors, and both eloquent. Mr. Grundy, though wily, shrewd, and a good political manager;in strength of argument, force, and felicity of illustration, and the faculty of setting his subject in a strong light before his hearers, was evidently inferior to his antagonist. Mr. Grundy at first waged an aggressive war, and with great boldness and vigor demolishing his enemy's outposts, pushed his way far into his country. Elated with success, and the ease with which he overcame all opposition, he imagined victory already achieved. But he was destined to be checked midway in his brilliant career, to encounter his enemy's strong corps de reserve. The contest is represented as having exhibited a scene of eloquent sublimity, seldom witnessed or surpassed. Mr. Grundy had marshalled his forces with the skill of a veteran, and flanked by powerful auxiliaries, was proceeding in the utmost regularity, and as he thought with absolute certainty, to strike the last decisive blow. A phalanx thus appointed, led on by such a general, seemed invincible, and indeed was, if any could be in such a conflict. Up to the time of the grand onslaught, Mr. Clay seemed to be regardless of the operations of his adversary. He was, however, silently engaged in collecting and arranging his resources, and treasuring his energies