Constitutional Whig

Editors, Mail Contractors.—Mr. Buckner of Ky. has introduced a Resolution in the House of Representatives (which was adopted) calling on the Post Master General, for information as to the fact, whether any editor of a newspaper in the District of Columbia, was a party original, or by assignment, to any contract for carrying the mail of the U. States—and on motion of Mr. Clarke, information was likewise called for, as to the sums paid for carrying the mail from Washington City to Vincennes, Indiana.

Some people maliciously surmise, that our old friend Duff, of the Telegraph, is the Editor here alluded to—but they surely do not reflect upon the improbability of the conjecture. Of all men, Duff is surely the last, who would contaminate his fingers with public money from the coffers of the Coalition. Has not Duff denounced them as usurpers—has he not denounced every man who has acted under them in any, the most subordinate capacity, as hirelings—as bought and—Has he not traced every act of necessary authority—every appointment—every opinion of theirs—to base and corrupt motives? Though Mr. Clay is required by law, to publish the acts of Congress in a certain number of papers in every State, has not Duff insisted upon it, that the editors who published them were all hirelings of the Coalition? Does he not call them by every hard name, and reprobate them as living on "Treasury pap:" as feeding out of the public "corn crib:" The columns of the Telegraph are replete with political morals—with the finest strains of patriotic solicitude for the people—with the deepest anathemas of the Coalition, and all connected with them—especially those who in any shape draw money from the public Treasury. To believe therefore, that its editor, Duff—Duff who is a baptist, and no doubt, practices what he preaches—Duff the "organ of the Republican party"—Duff the oracle of the opposition—Duff the sworn foe of the Coalition—Duff who considered it so infamous in us to receive $950 for carrying despatches—Duff whose doctrine it is that nothing good can come out of Nazareth, and that pitch (public money) cannot be touched without defilement—Duff who has neither stages nor horses—Duff whose province is literary and political, and whose business, habits and former pursuits, render it impossible that he can know any thing about mails and their incidents—we say that to suppose that Duff, whose eloquence has so often been raised against stipendiaries, can be at this very moment in the enjoyment of a rich contract for carrying the mail from Washington to Vincennes—a contract larger in amount, than the whole sum paid to publishers of laws throughout the United States, is incredible—past all belief. It is true we have remarked him to puff Mr. McLean, the Post Master General, every now and then, whilst every other officer of the Coalition, was withered by his denunciations. But we knew Mr. McLean to be so able and excellent an officer, that we thought these puffs were the unwilling praises of a foe, extorted by the force and unanimity of public sentiment—apparently magnanimous, but really politic. We never dreamed that they were offered (we are sure they were not accepted) as an exchange for "Treasury pap"—a just tribute paid to acknowledged public worth, in consideration of a "fat contract"

No! We cannot believe that Duff—Duff, whose writings breathe such a Roman grandeur and loftiness of soul—so high and Catoic a contempt for money—that Duff can be at this identical moment, enjoying a snug contract with the Post Office Department!—a contract by which, without personal labor or risque—without striking a stroke for the Republic, he is cramming his pockets with the people's money! Our readers shall hear farther when the denouement comes.