ferred him as a candidate; that the Whigs in the legislature were ready to give him a preliminary nomination, but that they were restrained by a class of politicians “calling themselves Whigs, but who thought that no political victory was worth achieving if not gained by stratagem. The governor [Seward],” he added, “and Thurlow Weed, who at this moment is decidedly the most important man, politically speaking, in the state, are not only friendly to your election, but warmly and zealously so; but they deem it inexpedient to make public declaration of their preference at this time.”
This had a fair sound, but Clay was not without misgivings. Although he had, the year before, declined the invitation of enthusiastic friends who desired him to visit New York, on the ground that it might look like an attempt to “attract the current of public feeling to him,” he accepted a similar invitation in the summer of 1839. He was splendidly received, and great popular enthusiasm accompanied his “progress” through the state. But at Saratoga Thurlow Weed, who had been reported as “not only friendly, but warmly and zealously so,” waited upon him with the suggestion, thinly if at all disguised, that, as he (Clay) could probably not carry the State of New York, he should withdraw in favor of another candidate more likely to be elected. “Nothing could be more courteous and kind than Mr. Clay's bearing throughout the conversation,” says Thurlow Weed in his autobio-
