"It is gratifying to reflect, however, that the credit given by the government, whether to bank paper or bank agents, has been accompanied bySMALLER LOSSESin the experience under the system of State banks in this country, at their worst periods, and under their severest calamities, than any other kind of credit the government has ever given in relation to its pecuniary transactions." "Again," he continued, turning to another page, "it is a singular fact, in praise of this description of public debtors—the selected banks—that there is not now due, on deposit, in the whole of them, which have ever stopped payment, from the establishment of the constitution to the present moment, a sum much beyond what is now due to the United States from one mercantile firm, that stopped payment in 1825 or 1826, and of whom ample security was required, and supposed to be taken under the responsibility of an oath. If we include the wholepresent dues to the government from discredited banks at all times, and of all kinds, whether as depositories or not, and embrace even counterfeit bills, and every other species of unavailable funds in the treasury, they will not exceed what is due from two such firms. Of almost one hundred banks, not depositories, which, during all our wars and commercial embarrassments, have heretofore failed, in any part of the Union, in debt to the government, on their bills or otherwise, it will be seen by the above table (to which Mr. Flam referred as annexed to the report) that the whole of them, except seventeen, have adjusted everything which they owed, and that the balance due from them, without interest, is less than $32,000."
"It is gratifying to reflect, however, that the credit given by the government, whether to bank paper or bank agents, has been accompanied bySMALLER LOSSESin the experience under the system of State banks in this country, at their worst periods, and under their severest calamities, than any other kind of credit the government has ever given in relation to its pecuniary transactions." "Again," he continued, turning to another page, "it is a singular fact, in praise of this description of public debtors—the selected banks—that there is not now due, on deposit, in the whole of them, which have ever stopped payment, from the establishment of the constitution to the present moment, a sum much beyond what is now due to the United States from one mercantile firm, that stopped payment in 1825 or 1826, and of whom ample security was required, and supposed to be taken under the responsibility of an oath. If we include the wholepresent dues to the government from discredited banks at all times, and of all kinds, whether as depositories or not, and embrace even counterfeit bills, and every other species of unavailable funds in the treasury, they will not exceed what is due from two such firms. Of almost one hundred banks, not depositories, which, during all our wars and commercial embarrassments, have heretofore failed, in any part of the Union, in debt to the government, on their bills or otherwise, it will be seen by the above table (to which Mr. Flam referred as annexed to the report) that the whole of them, except seventeen, have adjusted everything which they owed, and that the balance due from them, without interest, is less than $32,000."
"There, gentlemen New Lights of Quodlibet," said Mr. Flam, when he had finished reading these extracts, "what can be added beyond this certificate from the Secretary, of the value of our State banks? Even the lips of Whiggism are sealed before it; and nothing is left but the confession that, in all their senseless clamor against our favorite and long-tried State bank system, the course of its enemies has been but the ebullition of disappointed ambition and peevish discontent. Are you willing, I ask, to see this glorious system prostrated to the earth?"
"No!" was again the general cry.
"Are you content to see your cherished banks stripped of the confidence of the government?"
"No—never, never!" shouted the New Lights to a man.
"Then, gentlemen Quodlibetarians, radii of the NewLights, you have justified all my hopes. Your applause rewards all my toils—your support and confidence enlist all my gratitude. With emotions of heart-felt satisfaction, I bid you each good night!"
With these words, this remarkable man gathered up his documents, and, with a countenance full of smiles, retired from the midst of this circle of his devoted—yes, I may say, his idolizing friends.
EXCITEMENT PRODUCED BY THE THOROUGH BLUE WHOLE TEAM—MEETING OF THE NEW LIGHT—JESSE FERRET'S AMBIDEXTERITY—INTRODUCTION OF ELIPHALET FOX TO THE CLUB—HIS EXPOSITION OF PRINCIPLES—ESTABLISHMENT OF THE QUODLIBET WHOLE HOG.
Soon after the time referred to in the last chapter—that is, when we were favored by Mr. Flam with his views on the banking system—there was a question of the most profound interest in agitation, both in the New-Light Club and out of it; that question was the establishment of a newspaper. The Quodlibetarian Democracy were, I am sorry to inform my reader, most sorely and wantonly assailed, indeed I may say insulted, by an hebdomadal sheet which, through the aid, or, more properly speaking,the abuseof the post-office (for surely it was not the original design of that institution to afford the means of corrupting the people by the dissemination of such moral poisons) was distributed among sundry of our citizens, and even put upon the files of one of our public houses. I do not scruple to name the house—that of Jesse Ferret—Jesse being at this time a little amphibious in his politics, or, in Mr. Fog's expressive language,rather fishy. The paper to which I allude was published at Thorough Blue Court-House, a perfect hotbed of contumacious opposition, situate about fifty miles due west from Quodlibet. It was called "The ThoroughBlue Whole Team," and was edited by Augustus Postlethwaite Tompkinson, an inchoate lawyer, who had set up for a poet, and whose sentiments were of the most dangerous Whig complexion. This paper was constantly filled with extracts of the ravings of Whig members of Congress against our admirable system of banking, and had gone to such an extreme of rashness, as to denominate that splendid measure of the purest and wisest statesman of the age—my reader perceives I mean Mr. Benton—for the introduction of the gold currency, a humbug! But this was not all; the unprincipled editor of that reckless journal had actually so far forgotten all the decencies of civilized society, had become so callous to the cause of virtue and truth, as to launch his puny thunderbolts at the fair fame of the Hon. Middleton Flam. He was ridiculed as a pretender! he was nicknamed a charlatan!! and the unbridled license of this unsparing defamer did not stop short of denouncing him as a Federalist!!! All Quodlibet—that is, all who possessed the soul of Quodlibetarians—raised up their hands at the political impiety of this libel. A spontaneous burst of feeling indicated the deep sentiment which called for immediate action on the subject. For a full week, the New Light was in a state of paroxysm. The club met every night. Nicodemus Handy was there; Fog was there; Nim Porter was there; Snuffers and Doubleday, Doctor Winkleman and Zachary Younghusband, recently appointed postmaster of the Borough, were there. Every thorough-bred Quod, even down to Flan. Sucker, was there. Jesse Ferret, I have already said, was fishy. I regret to say it, but it is true. Jesse, bending to thesuppleness of the times, and forgetting a patriot's duty, which is first and foremost above all things to stick to his party, pleaded his public calling to excuse his vacillation, and even went so far as to say that "a publican should have no politics." Oh shame, where is thy blush! Not so with Nim Porter;—his soul towered above the bar-room; he would bet all he was worth on the side of his party. Everybody in Quodlibet knows how free Nim always was with his bets.
The decisive meeting of the club took place in the dining-room of Ferret's tavern. Nicodemus Handy did not often attend the meetings of the club: we looked to him rather for head work, for he was not the best of public speakers; but on the night of this assemblage he made it a point to be present. Mr. Handy is rather a short, fat man; his head is partially bald, his face is smooth and fair, his dress was always remarked for being of the best material, put on in the neatest manner—in short, Mr. Handy is a first-rate gentleman. I am particular in noting these matters, becauseThe Whole Teamwas in the habit of bragging that "all the decency" was on his side. Now I would challenge Thorough Blue Court-House, and the settlement ten miles around it—the whole region is Whig—to produce one man among them to compare either with the Hon. Middleton Flam or Nicodemus Handy. And I would take this occasion further to remark, in refutation ofThe Whole Team'scalumny touching "all the decency," that the true Quodlibetarian Democrats have as great a respect for appearance, and as profound a spirit of assentation and regard toward a man of wealth, as the people of any countryupon earth: if anything, our tip-top Quods carry rather a higher head than the richest Whigs in these parts, and any dispassionate man who will examine into the matter will say so.
Snuffers was in the chair. The members of the club did not sit down: they were too much agitated to sit down. As soon as I, in my character of Secretary, read the minutes of the preceding meeting, Mr. Handy rose, and after some very appropriate remarks delivered in a modest fashion, (in which he assured the club that he was unaccustomed to public speaking and moreover oppressed by the intensity of his feelings in regard to the recent attack on his friend, the Hon. Middleton Flam, and in a slight degree agitated in the presence of this most respectable assemblage of Quods,) came at once to the point. "Who," he asked, "was Augustus Postlethwaite Tompkinson? His name told you who he was—an aristocrat, a poet, a sentimentalizer,a dealer in fiction! What was his calling? A pander, a pimp, a professional reviler of great and good men. What was his paper? That sink of infamy—The Whole Team—twenty-four by eighteen, with a poet's corner, and an outside stuffed with a few beggarly advertisements. Would gentlemen submit to be led by the nose by a thing like that, twenty-four by eighteen?"
"Never," cried out Flanigan Sucker, who stood in the doorway, just behind Nim Porter—"will we, Nim?"
"Silence," said Mr. Snuffers.
"If gentlemen have my feelings of indignation on this subject," continued Mr. Handy, "they will concur with me in establishing a paper of our own."
"Go it, Nicodemus!" shouted Flan. Sucker, very indecorously putting in his word a second time.
Thereupon arose some confusion in the club, and Flan., being found upon examination to be muddled with liquor, was requested to retire; and not being very prompt to obey this invitation, he was turned out.
Mr. Handy then proceeded. "Gentlemen," said he, "a paper we must have, and I feel happy in the opportunity to introduce to your acquaintance a good friend of our cause, who is here present to-night, and who, under the auspices of this club, is willing to undertake the responsible duty of supplying this so much desiderated object. I beg leave to present to you Mr. Eliphalet Fox, a gentleman long connected with the press in a neighboring State, and who is prepared to submit to you his scheme."
Upon this a stranger, who had been seated in a back part of the room, wrapped up in a green camlet cloak with plaid lining, which I may add had apparently seen much service, stepped forward, and, disrobing himself of this outer garment, stood full before the President. He was a thin, faded little fellow, whose clothes seemed to be somewhat too large for him. His eye was gray and rather dull, his physiognomy melancholy, his cheek sunken, his complexion freckled, his coat blue, the buttons dingy, his hair sandy, and like untwisted rope. The first glance at the person of this new-comer gave every man of the club the assurance that here was an editor indeed. A whisper of approbation ran through the crowd, and from that moment, as Mr. Doubleday afterward said to me, we felt assured that we had the man we wanted.
"Mr. President," said he, in a feeble and sickly voice, "my nameisFox. I am in want of employment. Sir," he added, gritting his teeth and taking an attitude, "if the rancor of my soul, accumulated by maltreatment, set on edge by disappointment, indurated by time, entitle me to claim your confidence, then, sir, my claim stands number one. If a thorough knowledge, sir, of the characteristic traits of Federalism, long acquaintance with its designs, persecution, sir, from its votaries, a deep experience of its black ingratitude; if days of toil spent in its service, nights of feverish anxiety protracted in ruminating over its purposes; if promises violated, hopes blasted, labors unrewarded, may be deemed a stimulus to hatred—then, sir, am I richly endowed with the qualifications to expose the enemies of Quodlibetarian Democracy. I am a child, sir, of sorrow: the milk of my nature has been curdled by neglect. Mine is a history of talents underrated, sensibilities derided, patriotism spurned, affluence, nay competence, withheld. The world has turned me aside. I have no resting place on the bosom of my mother. Society, like a demon, pursues me. Writs in the hands of the sheriff, judgments on the docket,fi. fas.andca. sas.track my footsteps. No limitation runs in my favor: thescire facias, ever ready, revives the inhuman judgment, and my second shirt—my first is in rags—is stripped from my body to glut the avarice of my relentless pursuers. Thank God, I have at last found a friend in that distinguished man who has been so ruthlessly, so recently assailed, by that fledgling of the aristocracy, Augustus Postlethwaite Tompkinson. Yes, sir, in the Hon. Middleton Flam I have found a friend.He has given me letters to this benevolent gentleman, Mr. Handy; he has recommended my establishment here; he promises to co-operate with this respectable club in giving me a foothold among you. With her Flams and her Handys, Quodlibet is destined to an enviable influence in this great Republic." (Here he was interrupted by loud cheers.) "My scheme is, Mr. President, with the aid of this club, and that of the benefactors I have named, forthwith to startThe Quodlibet Whole Hog. It shall take a decided and uncompromising stand againstThe Thorough Blue Whole Team, (here he was again arrested by cheers;) pledged to contradict every word uttered by that vile print, (cheers;) to traduce and bring down its editor by the most systematic disparagement, (cheers;) to disprove all Whig assertions; unfailingly to take the opposite side on all questions; industriously to lower the standing of the members of the Whig party, (immense cheers;) through thick and thin, good report and evil report, for better and for worse, to defend and sustain the administration of the new President, who is about to take his seat, that incomparable Democrat of the genuine Quodlibetarian stamp, Martin Van Buren, (at this point the cheering continued for some moments, with such violence that the speaker had to suspend his remarks;) and finally, sir, to commend, exalt, and illustrate the character and pretensions of our unrivaled friend Mr. Flam, (immense cheering,) giving utterance to his sentiments, preponderance to his opinions, authority to his advice on all proper and suitable occasions, (loud cheering for a long time.) In short, sir, The Whole Hog shall be what its name imports, a faithful mirror of the Democracy of Quodlibet. Its publication shall be weekly; its size, twenty-six by twenty, having the advantage over the Whole Team by full two inches each way. There, sir, is an outline of my sentiments and proposed paper." Mr. Fox concluded this address in the midst of a congratulatory uproar, altogether unprecedented in the club.
Seizing upon the enthusiasm of the moment, and being rather fearful that Fog would attempt to make a speech, which that gentleman's condition would have rendered extremely improper at this hour, Mr. Handy immediately offered a resolution for the establishment of the Whole Hog, and its adoption as the organ of the party, on the principles proposed by Mr. Fox. This was carried by acclamation; and the members without further discussion adjourned to the bar-room, where Nim Porter offered a bet—and not finding any one to take him up, continued to offer it during the evening—of fifty dollars to twenty-five, or one hundred to fifty, that Eliphalet Fox would run Augustus Postlethwaite Tompkinson's Whole Team out of Quodlibet in six months from that day:—that there would not be but two copies of the Whole Team taken in the Borough, and that one of them would be Michael Grant's out at the Hogback:—"for," said Nim, with an oath, which I will not repeat—"I can see it in that Liphlet Fox's eye; if he isn't a gouger when his bile's fresh, there aint nothing in Lavender on Physiology, or Fowler on the Shape of Heads."
BEING A SHORT HISTORY OF ELIPHALET FOX.
Eliphalet Fox's paper, "The Whole Hog," made its first appearance on the day of the inauguration of President Van Buren. Bright were the omens that heralded its birth. The lustrous orb of Jackson had just set in an ocean of splendor. Happy old man! Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas! In the glowing language of his own immortal valedictory, he left "this great people prosperous and happy." That star of the second magnitude, Martin Van Buren, first among the sidera minora, had just risen. In the nearly equally immortal salutatory of this Sidus Minor, he spake the words, "we present an aggregate of human prosperity surely not elsewhere to be found." Fortunate omens, incomparable auspices! Under these cheering signs "The Whole Hog" appeared upon the stage.
Never was paper more faithful to the Quodlibetarian theory. Never was editor more richly endowed to sustain that theory than Eliphalet Fox. My reader will doubtless expect that I should impart such gleanings of the editor's life as my diligent researches have enabled me to collect. This reasonable expectation shall be indulged.
Eliphalet Fox was one of those men whose careerfurnishes so remarkable a commentary upon the beneficent character of our great Democratic Quodlibetarian principle. His ancestors, two generations back, were Federal and rich: in the last generation they were Federal and poor—a transition strikingly natural and eminently illustrative of our free institutions. Eliphalet was born in the town of Gabwrangle, in the adjoining State. His education was circumscribed to the circle of reading, writing, and arithmetic, which Eliphalet himself sometimes jocosely describes as algebraically denoted by the signs of the three Rs; to wit, Reading, Righting, and Rithmetic—a joke (mehercule) both ingenious and new!
His parents being, as I may say, inops pecuniæ, bound Eliphalet to a trade; but handicraft was abhorrent to his genius. His temper was sour and peevish; and though seemingly meek, even to a degree of asininity, in his demeanor, yet it was early discovered that, upon occasion, he could very deftly and nimbly, as the poet says, "unpack his heart with words and fall to swearing like a very drab." This art was too valuable in Eliphalet's time to go long without a patron; and, accordingly, after he had worked four most reluctant years in a printing-office, to which his respectable parents, thwarting the current of his genius, had devoted him, he was discovered and taken by the hand by Mr. Theophilus Flam, brother of the late Judge, and leader of the Federal party of Gabwrangle. It was just before the war; and the party being hard set upon by its enemies, had, like a cat surrounded by curs, thrown itself upon its back, and essayed to defend itself, most cattishly, with claw and tooth.And sharply, as we well know, did they fight. Eliphalet, in this strife, played the part of a claw, showing most admirable spring nails, though ordinarily hid, and therefore but little suspected in his velvet paw. His position in this battle was that of conductor of "The Gabwrangle Grimalkin," a cross-grained, querulous, tart and vinegarish little folio, which hoisted the banner of Theophilus Flam, and swore in his words. Eliphalet Fox, in consequence of the trusty position which was thus confided to him, and still more by reason of a certain rabid but laudable hatred of all who bore the name of Democrat, in those days, (and here I would have my reader mark that a Democrat of 1812 was a very different thing from a Democrat of this our day, especially from a true Quodlibetarian Democrat,) rose to be a person of great consideration in Gabwrangle. The party of Theophilus Flam, like our illustrious chief of the new Democracy, Mr. Van Buren, made sturdy opposition to Madison and his unrighteous war, and finally enjoyed the satisfaction of a complete triumph over all their political adversaries in Gabwrangle, by an utter route of the spurious Democrats who opposed them: a point of good fortune which did not fall to the lot of our illustrious chief at Kinderhook; since history records the disastrous fact that he, so far from conquering, was obliged to give in, and was even unhappily compelled, by the force of adverse winds, to go over to the majority, (an event very distressing to his feelings,) when he found that that majority was so obstinate as to refuse to come on his side: he was, if I may so say, as it were, a prisoner-of-war, and acted under a vis major. But at Gabwrangle—thanks to the persevering tongue and pen of Eliphalet Fox!—it was all the other way; and "The Grimalkin," to the last, enjoyed a most enviable renown as the bitterest reviler of Mr. Madison and his doings.
Habit grows into an instinct, and as times change our habits are the last to follow the fashion. It is only by referring to this deep-seated principle of human nature, that I am able to account for the extraordinary vituperation which Eliphalet Fox, at a later day, poured upon the head of the Old Hero when he was brought out for President. The Grimalkin, like all poison-concocting animals, grew more venomous as it grew older; and were it not that Eliphalet has repented of this folly, and amply atoned for its commission, I should blush to record the almost savage ferocity, the altogether unpardonable acerbity, and, above all, the thoroughly unquodlibetarian freedom with which he assailed the purest man that in the tide of time—as another pure man has remarked—ever appeared upon this terraqueous globe. But the truth is, Eliphalet had fallen intoa habitof detraction, and did it without thinking:—that is the best excuse that can be made for him. The old Federalists of Gabwrangle, and, foremost among them, his master, Theophilus Flam, soon corrected this unhappy proclivity, and gave him to understand that he was on a wrong scent. They peremptorily, to their great honor, insisted that from that day forth the Grimalkin must be decent. The consequence of this was fatal to Eliphalet Fox—fatal at least to his prosperity in Gabwrangle. Thenceforth the Grimalkin sunk into insignificance. As thepoet says, Othello's occupation was gone. The subscribers grew testy and dropped off, under the influence of this uncongenial decency exacted from the editor. Eliphalet borrowed money, his habiliments grew shabby, he took up mean callings for the sake of pelf, he became a spunge; he grew bilious, atrabilious, patriotic and indignant. He went forReform—reform of the General Government, reform of the State Constitution, reform of private manners, reform of public observances. He took up an aversion to all kinds of respectability, became a deadly enemy to every man who laid up any money—made this sentiment a political question, talked of a division of property, called Nature a stepmother, said sundry hard things about the persecution of genius, and finally, one Sunday night, eloped from Gabwrangle, leaving his fiscal responsibilities in a state of as much perplexity as that into which these vile Whigs have brought those of the government. Alas, for Eliphalet! little did he dream that out of this desolation and dismay he was to pluck so bright a flower of prosperity as he now wears in his bosom. All the hounds of the law—as he so eloquently painted it to the New Light at our celebrated meeting—were set upon his track; but grace to his better destiny! he eluded them. To twenty writs placed on Monday morning in the sheriff's hands, that functionary made his return on Tuesday evening, "Eloped under whip and spur out of the bailiwick."—Oh, lucky Eliphalet!
In these straits the badgered patriot went to Washington; was recognized by our distinguished representative, who, knowing that we were in want of aneditor fit to cope with The Whole Team, gave him a warm letter of recommendation to Nicodemus Handy, and forthwith was projected that famous movement, whereof I have already given the history, and which has so auspiciously resulted in the establishment of The Quodlibet Whole Hog.
ASTOUNDING EVENT—SUSPENSION OF SPECIE PAYMENTS—PROCEEDINGS OF THE BANK OF QUODLIBET THEREUPON—RESOLVE OF THE DIRECTORS AGAINST SUSPENSION—CONSPIRACY AND THREATENED REVOLUTION HEADED BY FLAN. SUCKER—DIRECTORS CHANGE THEIR MIND—THEIR CONSTERNATION AND ESCAPE—REMARKABLE BRAVERY AND PRESENCE OF MIND OF THE HON. MIDDLETON FLAM—HIS SPLENDID APPEAL TO THE INSURGENTS—GENERAL JACKSON'S ORACULAR VIEWS IN REGARD TO THE SUSPENSION.
Proh hominum fidem!
It falls to my lot, at this stage of my history, to be constrained to record an event the most astounding, the most awful, the most unexpected, the most treacherous, the most ungrateful, the most flagitious—yea, the most supereminently flagitious,—that the history of mankind affords. Notwithstanding that laudatory and political ejaculation which the Hero and Sage breathed out in the evening of his brilliant career, like the last notes of the swan, "I leave this great people prosperous and happy"—notwithstanding that flattering canzonet, with which he who pledges himself to walk in the Hero and Sage's footsteps, began his illustrious course, singing as it were the morning carol of the lark—"we present an aggregate of human prosperity surely not elsewhere to be found"—the echo of these sweet sounds had not died away upon the tympana of our ravished ears, before these banks—these gentle pet banks—these fostered, favored, sugar-plum and candy-fed pet banks,with all their troop of plethoric and pampered paragon sister banks, one and all, without one pang of remorse, without one word of warning, without even, as far as we could see, one tingle of a suppressed and struggling blush, incontinently suspended specie payments!! O curas hominum! Quantum est in rebus inane!
Shall I tell it? Even the Patriotic Copperplate Bank of Quodlibet was compelled to follow in this faithless path. Not at once, I confess—not off-hand, and with such malice prepense as the others—for Nicodemus Handy had a soul above such black ingratitude—but after a pause, and, let the truth be told in extenuation, because he could not help it.
The Hon. Middleton Flam was sent for upon the first tidings of this extraordinary kicking in the traces by these high-mettled institutions—tidings which reached Quodlibet, via the canal, about eleven o'clock one morning in May. The Directors were summoned into council. What was to be done? was the general question. Anthony Hardbottle, of the firm of Barndollar & Hardbottle—a grave man and a thoughtful; a man without flash, who seldom smiles—a lean man, hard favored and simple in his outgoings and incomings; a man, who has never sported, as long as I have known him, any other coat than that snuff-brown with covered buttons, and who does not wear out above one pair of shoes in a year; a man who could never be persuaded to give so far into the times as to put on a black cravat, but has always stuck to the white:—such a man, it may be easily imagined, was not to be carried away by new-fangled notions:—he was there at theBoard, in place of Theodore Fog, who was compelled two years before to withdraw his name as a candidate for re-election. This same Anthony Hardbottle, speaking under the dictates of that cautious wisdom natural to him as a merchant, answered this question of What was to be done?—by another equally laconic and pregnant with meaning——
"How much cash have we on hand?"
"One hundred and seven dollars and thirty-seven and a half cents in silver," replied Nicodemus, "and five half eagles in gold, which were brought here by our honorable President and placed on deposit, after he had used them in the last election for the purpose of showing the people what an admirable currency we were to have, as soon as Mr. Benton should succeed in making it float up the stream of the Mississippi."
Again asked Anthony Hardbottle, "What circulation have you abroad?"
"Six hundred thousand dollars," replied Nicodemus, "and a trifle over."
"Then," said Anthony, "I think we had better suspend with the rest."
"Never," said the Hon. Middleton Flam, rising from his seat and thumping the table violently with his hand. "Never, sir, while I am President of this bank, and there is a shot in the locker."
"Bravo—well said, admirably said, spoke as a Quodlibetarian ought to speak!" shouted Dr. Thomas G. Winkleman, the keeper of the soda-water Pavilion; "I have fifteen dollars in five-penny bits; they are at the service of the Board, and while I hold a piece ofcoin, the Patriotic Copperplate Bank shall never be subjected to the reproach of being unable to meet its obligations. Anthony Hardbottle, as a Democrat I am surprised at you."
"I can't help it," replied Anthony; "in my opinion, our issues are larger than our means."
"How larger, sir?" demanded Mr. Snuffers, the President of the New Light, with some asperity of tone.—"Haven't we a batch of bran-new notes, just signed and ready for delivery? Redeem the old ones with new. Why should we suspend?"
"Gentlemen, I will put the question to the Board," interposed Mr. Flam, fearful lest a quarrel might arise, if the debate continued. "Shall this bank suspend specie payments? Those in favor of this iniquitous proposition will sayAy."
No one answered. Anthony Hardbottle was intimidated by the President's stern manner.
"Those opposed to it will sayNo."
"No!" was the universal acclamation of the Board, with the exception of Anthony Hardbottle who did not open his lips.
"Thank you, gentlemen," said Mr. Flam, "for this generous support. I should have been compelled by the adoption of this proposition, much as I esteem this Board, much as I value your good opinion, to have returned the commission with which you have honored me as your President. Our country first, and then ourselves! The Democracy of Quodlibet never will suspend!"
At this moment confused noises were heard in the banking-room, which adjoined that in which theDirectors were convened. Mr. Handy immediately sprang from his chair and went into this apartment.
There stood about thirty persons, principally boatmen from the canal. At their head, some paces advanced into the bank, was Flanigan Sucker. One sleeve of Flan's coat was torn open from the shoulder to the wrist; his shirt, of a very indefinite complexion, was open at the breast, disclosing the shaggy mat of hair that adorned this part of his person; his corduroy trowsers had but one suspender to keep them up, thus giving them rather a lop-sided set. His face was fiery-red; and his hat, which was considerably frayed at the brim, was drawn over one ear, and left uncovered a large portion of his forehead and crown which were embellished by wild elf locks of carroty hue.
"Nicodemus," said Flan. as soon as the Cashier made his appearance, "we have come to make a run upon the bank:—they say you've bursted your biler." Then turning to the crowd behind him, he shouted, "Growl, Tigers!—Yip! yip! Hurra!"
As Flan. yelled out these words, a strange muttering sound broke forth from the multitude.
"What put into your drunken noddle that we have broke?" inquired Mr. Handy, with great composure, as soon as silence was restored.
"Nim Porter ses, Nicodemus, that you're a gone horse, and that if you ain't busted up, you will be before night. So we have determined on a run."
Nim Porter, who was standing in the rear of the crowd, where he had come to see how matters were going on, now stepped forward. Nim is the fattest man in Quodlibet, and besides, is the most dressy andgood-natured man we have. On this occasion there he stood with a stiff starched linen roundabout jacket on, as white as the driven snow, with white drilling pantaloons just from the washerwoman, and the most strutting ruffle to his shirt that could have been manufactured out of cambric. In all points he was unlike the crowd of persons who occupied the room. "I said nothing of the sort—" was Nim's reply—"and I am willing now to bet ten to one that he can't produce a man here to say I said so."
"What's the odds!" cried Flan; "Nicodemus, we are resolved upon a run—so shell out!"
"Begin when it suits you," said Mr. Handy. "Let me have your note, and I will give you either silver or gold as you choose."
"You don't catch me that way," shouted Flan., with a drunken grimace. "Notes is not in my line—shell out anyhow. We have determined on a run—a genuine, dimmycratic sortie."
"Have you none of our paper?" again inquired Mr. Handy.
"Not a shaving, Nicodemus," replied Flan. "What's the odds?"
"But I have," said a big, squinting boatman, as he walked up to our Cashier, and untied his leather wallet. "There's sixty dollars, and I'll thank you for the cash.
"And I have twenty-five more," cried out another.
"And I twice twenty-five," said a gruff voice from the midst of the crowd.
All this time the number of persons outside was increasing, and very profane swearing was heard aboutthe door. Mr. Handy stepped to the window to get a view of the assemblage, and seeing that nearly all the movable part of Quodlibet was gathering in front of the building, he retired with some trepidation into the Directors' room, and informed Mr. Flam and the Board of what was going on. They had a pretty good suspicion of this before Mr. Handy returned, for they had distinctly heard the uproar. Mr. Handy no sooner communicated the fact to them, than Mr. Flam, with considerable perturbation in his looks, rose and declared that Quodlibet was in a state of insurrection; and, as every one must be aware, that in the midst of a revolution no bank could be expected to pay specie, he moved, in consideration of this menacing state of affairs, that the Patriotic Copperplate Bank of Quodlibet suspend specie payments forthwith, and continue the same until such time as the re-establishment of the public peace should authorize a resumption. This motion was gratefully received by the Board, and carried without a division. During this interval, the conspirators having learned, through their leader, Flan. Sucker, that the Hon. Middleton Flam was in the house, forthwith set up a violent shouting for that distinguished gentleman to appear at the door. It was some moments before our representative was willing to obey this summons: the Board of Directors were thrown into a panic, and with great expedition got out of the back window into the yard, and made their escape—thus leaving the indomitable and unflinching President of the bank, a man of lion heart, alone in the apartment; while the yells and shouts of the multitude were ringing in his ears with awful reduplication. He wasnot at a loss to perform his duty, but, with a dignified and stately movement, stalked into the banking-room, approached the window that looked upon the street, threw it open, and gave himself in full view to the multitude.
There was a dreadful pause; a scowl sat upon every brow; a muttering silence prevailed. As Tacitus says: "Non tumultus, non quies, sed quale magni metus, et magnæ iræ silentium est." Mr. Flam raised his arm, and spoke in this strain:—
"Men of Quodlibet, what madness has seized upon you? Do you assemble in front of this edifice to make the day hideous with howling? Is it to insult Nicodemus Handy, a worthy New Light, or is it to affright the universe by pulling down these walls? Shame on you, men of Quodlibet! If you have a vengeance to wreak, do not inflict it upon us. Go to the Whigs, the authors of our misfortune. They have brought these things upon us. Year after year have we been struggling to give you a constitutional currency—the real Jackson gold——"
"Three cheers for Middleton Flam!" cried out twenty voices, and straightway the cheers ascended on the air; and in the midst was heard a well-known voice, "Yip! yip!—Go it, Middleton!"
"Yes, my friends," proceeded the orator, "while we have been laboring to give you the solid metals; while we have been fighting against thisPAPER-MONEY PARTY, and have devoted all our energies to the endeavor to prostrate the influence of theseRAG BARONS, theseMONOPOLISTS,THESE CHAMPIONS OF VESTED RIGHTS AND CHARTERED PRIVILEGES, theWhigs—we have beenfoiled at every turn by the power of their unholy combinations of associated wealth. They have filled your land with banks, and have brought upon us all the curses ofover-tradingandover-speculating, until the people are literally on their faces at the footstool of the Money Power. (Tremendous cheering.) Our course has been resolute and unwaveringly patriotic. We have stood in the breach and met the storm; but all without avail. Between the rich and the poor lies a mighty gulf. The rich manhas, the poor manwants. Of that which the rich hath, does he give to the poor? Answer me, men of Quodlibet."
"No!" arose, deep-toned, from every throat.
"Then our course is plain. Poor men, one and all, rally round our Democratic banner. Let the aristocrats know and feel that you will not bear this tyranny."
"We will," shouted Flan. Sucker. "Go it, Middleton!"
"Gentlemen," continued Mr. Flam, "this bank of ours is purelyDemocratic. It is an exception to all other banks; it is emphatically the poor man's friend: nothing can exceed the skill and caution with which it has been conducted. Would that all other banks were like it! We have, comparatively, but a small issue of paper afloat; we have a large supply of specie. You perceive, therefore, that we fear no run. You all saw with what alacrity our Cashier proffered to redeem whatever amount our respectable fellow-citizen, that excellent Democrat, Mr. Flanigan Sucker, might demand. (Cheers, and a cry of 'Yip!') Mr. Sucker was satisfied, and did not desire to burden himself withspecie. Gentlemen, depend uponme. When there is danger, if such a thing could be to this New-Light Democratic bank, I will be the first to give you warning. (Cheers, and 'Hurrah for Flam.') Born with an instinctive love of the people, I should be the vilest of men, if I could ever forget my duty to them. (Immense cheering, and cries of 'Flam forever!') Take my advice, retire to your homes, keep an eye on the Whigs and their wicked schemes to bolster up the State banks, make no run upon this institution—it is an ill bird that defiles its own nest—and, before you depart, gentlemen, let me inform you that, having the greatest regard to your interest, we have determined upon a temporary suspension, as a mere matter of caution against the intrigues of the Whigs, who, we have every reason to believe, actuated by their implacable hatred of the New-Light Democracy, will assail this, your favorite bank, with a malevolence unexampled in all their past career. (Loud cheers, and cries of 'Stand by the bank.') But, Quodlibetarians, rally, and present a phalanx more terrible than the Macedonian to the invader. You can—I am sure you will—and, therefore, I tell you your bank is safe."
"We can, we will!" rose from the whole multitude, accompanied with cheers that might vie with the bursting of the ocean surge.
"Gentlemen," added Mr. Flam, "I thank you for the manifestation of this patriotic sentiment. It is no more than I expected of Quodlibet. In conclusion, I am requested, my good friends, by Mr. Handy, to saythat having just prepared some notes on asuperiorpaper, he will redeem at the counter any old ones you may chance to hold, in that new emission; and I can with pride assure you, that this late supply is equal, perhaps, to anything that has ever been issued in the United States. With my best wishes, gentlemen, for your permanent prosperity, under the new and glorious dynasty of that distinguished New-Light Democrat, whom the unbought suffrages of millions of freemen have called to the supreme executive chair, (cheers,) and under whose lead we fondly indulge the hope of speedily sweeping from existence this pestilential brood of Whig banks, I respectfully take my leave."
Having concluded this masterly appeal to the reason and good sense of the people, Mr. Flam withdrew under nine distinct rounds of applause.
The effect of this powerful speech, which has often since been compared to that of Cicero against Catiline, was completely to still the public mind of Quodlibet, and also to remove all apprehensions of the solidity of our bank. But its happiest feature was the vindication of the bank against that charge of treachery and ingratitude which so justly lies at the door of all the other banks of the country. The Patriotic Copperplate Bank of Quodlibet was, as Mr. Flam observed,purely Democratic—Democratic in its origin, in its principles, in its organization, in its management, in its officers, its stockholders, and its customers. Such a bank, of course, could not be unfaithful to the Democratic administration that fostered it—infidelity or ingratitude to party is no inhabitant of a Democraticbosom. If there be men upon earth who go all lengths, through thick and thin, for party, it is (I say it with pride) the genuine New-Light Quodlibetarian Democracy. Our bank, therefore, stands uncontaminated by that revolting perfidy which, at the instigation of Biddle and the Barings, brought all the other banks, in which there are Whig directors or officers, into the most wicked conspiracy recorded in history.
It was not long after this astounding event before the opinions uttered above were fully and most remarkably confirmed by a letter from the Hermitage; a letter which for its shrewdness of view, its perspicacity, its lucid style and Hero-and-Sage-like felicity of construction, is unequaled in the productions of the venerable Chief. I am happy to insert it here, as a most eloquent exposition of the causes of the suspension—feeling assured that its distinguished author had no reference to the Democratic banks, and especially none to ours of Quodlibet, but intended it entirely for the vile Whigs.
"The history of the world," says this immortal man, writing July ninth, to the virgin-minded, tremulously-sensitive, and unrewarded editor of the Globe, "never has recorded such base treachery and perfidy as has been committed by the deposit banks against the government, and purely with a view of gratifying Biddle and the Barings, and by the suspension of specie payments, degrade, embarrass, and ruin, if they could, their own country, for the selfish views of making large profits by throwing out millions of depreciated paper upon the people—selling their specie at large premiums, andbuying up their own paper at discounts of from 25 to 50 per cent., and now looking forward to be indulged in these speculations for years to come before they resume specie payments."
Oracular old man! Sage and Seer! Priest and Prophet to lead thine Israelites beyond Jordan! Happy do I, S. S., Schoolmaster of Quodlibet, account myself that I have lived in this thy day!
SIGNS OF DISCORD IN QUODLIBET—THE IRON-RAILING CONTROVERSY—AGAMEMNON FLAG'S NOMINATION—REVOLT OF THEODORE FOG—THE CELEBRATED SPLIT—CONSEQUENCES OF JESSE FERRET'S PERNICIOUS DOGMA IN REFERENCE TO PUBLICANS—FIRST FRUITS OF THE SPLIT MANIFESTED AT MRS. FERRET'S TEA DRINKING—GRAVE REFLECTIONS BY THE AUTHOR—MORAL.
The exciting summer of 1837, with the special election of a member of Congress for the extra session—to which we returned our long-tried and faithful representative, Mr. Middleton Flam, almost without opposition—went by. All eyes were turned upon the proceedings of Congress at that extra sitting; and a great many speculations were afloat in Quodlibet, where, I am pained to disclose the fact, very serious contrariety of opinion began to spring up in reference to the Sub-Treasury. Our State election, for members of the Legislature, was to come on in October, and a convention, called for the purpose, had nominated Agamemnon Flag, at the head of the ticket, with Abram Schoolcraft, the nursery man in Bickerbray, and Curtius Short, Cheap store-keeper in Tumbledown, as the Regular New-Light Democratic Quodlibetarian candidates. Unhappily this nomination gave dissatisfaction to numbers of our friends. Agamemnon Flag, who was the only stump man on the ticket, (Schoolcraft and Short having expressly stipulated that they were not to be called on to speak in the canvass,) was a young member of the bar, comparatively a stranger to many in the Borough, (having within the last year removed from Bickerbray,) and, laboring under the infirmity of short-sightedness, wore a delicate pair of gold spectacles. I have observed that short-sighted persons in general are not apt to be popular in a Democratic government.
But there was another matter that operated against Agamemnon. Quodlibet had been made the county-seat of justice by an act of the last Legislature, and we were just finishing a court-house which, in anticipation of this event, we had commenced a year before. A question arose among the townspeople, whether the court-house square should be surrounded by a wooden or by an iron railing. This question created great agitation. Several Whigs of the Borough made themselves active in the debate, and went for the iron. The New-Light Quods were strong for wood. Agamemnon Flag, seeing that a great deal of ill blood was getting up between the parties, made a speech to a town meeting on this subject, and went in for a compromise—he was for wood on thetwo sidesandbackof the square, and ironin front. This proposition he advocated with great earnestness and ability, and finally carried his point by a close vote. The wooden party said that the vote was not a fair one, and that they could not regard it as a legitimate expression of the popular voice, because it was taken just as a shower of rain was coming up, when many persons present who had come without umbrellas had given no heed to the question, and voted as it were in the dark. However,the vote was not recalled, and the iron railing is now in a course of fabrication over at the Hogback Forge, which happens unluckily to be owned by Stephen P. Crabstock, one of the most bull-headed Whigs in this county, the job being given by the commissioners to him in consequence of there being no genuine New-Light Democratic iron works in this part of the county.
When Agamemnon Flag was brought out at the head of the ticket for the Legislature, nothing was said about the iron railing, and we had good reason to suppose that every true Quod would support the nomination; which in fact was made by the direction of our honorable representative in Congress, who had a great liking for Flag in consequence of a very beautifully written memoir of Mr. Flam, which appeared two years ago in the Bickerbray Scrutinizer, when Flag lived in that town. In point of principle, Agamemnon was altogether unexceptionable. He was an out-and-out Flamite of the first water, and an unadulterated Quodlibetarian in every sentiment.
Theodore Fog—I regret to be obliged to mention his name in any terms of disparagement, because he is unquestionably a man of talents and a true-bred New Light, and certainly we owe Theodore a good deal—had been very sour for some time past. He had never forgotten the making of Middleton Flam President of the bank. I have in a former chapter hinted somewhat of Theodore's unfortunate habits. Dolet mihi,—I grieve to repeat these things. But the truth must be told. His diurnal aberrations became at length so conspicuous that, after being twice elected a Director of the bank,his name was struck off the ticket and Anthony Hardbottle's substituted in his place. Theodore never had much practice at the bar, although he considers himself the founder of that fraternity at Quodlibet, being for a season the only lawyer in the Borough. That little practice had now pretty nearly left him; in consequence of which he thought himself badly used, and therefore entitled to a support from the public. These feelings operating upon his mind, induced him, soon after the nomination of Agamemnon Flag, to come out in opposition and declare himself an Independent Candidate.
The Whigs, taking advantage of this split in the party, brought out Andy Grant, son of old Michael of the Hogback; a young man of fair character, but wholly and fatally imbued with those dangerous opinions which have already brought so many misfortunes upon our country.
This was the state of things at the commencement of the month of September; and it will be seen in the sequel that very serious difficulties grew out of this division.
A meeting of the voters of the county, which included the three towns of Quodlibet, Tumbledown, and Bickerbray, was called at the Sycamore Spring, upon the Rumblebottom, about five miles below Quodlibet. This meeting was to be held on the eighth. A reference to these events is necessary to explain the scene which I am about to present to my reader.
Jesse Ferret, as my reader knows, had brought himself into some scandal by his indefinite political sentiments, and that most unquodlibetarian dogma that "aPublican should have no side." Now, Mrs. Ferret and her daughter, Susan Barndollar, were just antipodes to Jesse. Two truer women, more firm-set in the New-Light Democracy, more constant in opinion, whether in the utterance thereof or in its quality, and better able to hold their own, have I never chanced to meet, than this respectable mother and daughter. It is common to say women are not allowed a voice in our government. My faith! these two ladies had a voice in Quodlibet, allowed or not allowed—let the theory go as it may:—and Jesse Ferret knows that full well.
Mrs. Ferret is what we call a fleshy or lusty woman: she weighed two hundred and twelve, in Neal Hopper's new one-sided patent scale at the mill. She is amazingly well padded with fat across the shoulders, and has a craw-shaped bosom that in some degree encroaches upon her neck; and she is famous for wearing a large frilled and quilled cap with many blue ribbons, being a little given to finery. Although Susan Barndollar was grown up and married, Mrs. Ferret had a child in the arms at that time; and Jesse has even boasted, within the last five years, of running two cradles at one time.
It was on the evening of the seventh of September, the night before the meeting at the Sycamore Spring, when Mrs. Ferret had a tea drinking in the back parlor, at which I, the only one of the masculine, was present as a guest. Mrs. Younghusband was of the party, and Mrs. Snuffers, with her interesting fat female infant nine months old; the same dear child whose arrangements to appear in this world of cares procured me the honor of presiding over the New Light, on the memorable occasion of Mr. Flam's great speech at Christmas, whereof I have spoken in a former chapter: thanks to Mrs. Snuffers for that considerate favor! This good lady was there; and these two, with the addition of Miss Hardbottle, elder sister of Barndollar & Hardbottle, and Mrs. Susan Barndollar, who lived at home with her mother, made up the company.
"There is one thing," said Mrs. Ferret, as she rocked herself in a huge hickory arm-chair, which had been built on purpose for her, "that Idohold in despise; and that is, one of these here men who haint got no opinions. Ef you believe me, Mrs. Snuffers, that man Jesse Ferret—this woman's father, (pointing to Mrs. Barndollar,) God forgive me that I should say anythink aginst my datur's own lawful flesh and blood!—but he's actelly afeard to go down to-morrow to the Sycamore Spring to hear the tongue-lashing which Theodore Fog, which is a man I always respected—they say he drinks, but there's many a man which don't drink, hasn't half his brains—Jesse's actelly afeard to go and hear how Theodore will use up Ag Flag and Andy Grant both at the same time, least they might be for making him take sides, which he hasn't the spunk to do. My patience! but it would be nuts to me to hear the speechification!—and, to think of it—that man hasn't the heart of a goose to go to the meeting!"
"Ah, Mrs. Ferret," said Mrs. Snuffers, talking as if she had a cold in the head, her voice being husky, in fact, from having taken a large pinch of snuff, "them politicks—them politicks! Poor Mr. Snuffers!—dear man: I 'spose you know he is President of theNew Light; he's losing his naiteral rest upon account of that split. He put in his wote in the conwention for Ag, as innocent as a lamb, and here comes up that obstropolus iron railing, and smashes all the New Lights into outer darkness, with diwisions and contentions and all sorts of infractions. Mr. Snuffers says he shouldn't wonder if that unfortnate step should take the Hay Scales from him and leave me and this here innocent darlin' babe in a state of destitution. Oh them politicks!"
"Well, let people stand by their colors, says I," interposed Mrs. Barndollar, tartly, with a sharp shake of her head; "I go with my ma, although pa is pa. I think people ought to speak what they please, and mean what they please; and it's a mean thing not to do so, and that's gospel truth, or else this is not a free country. Ma is right; and if Mr. Snuffers is what Mr. Barndollar calls a Whole Hog, he'll not mind the people a jot, but go with his party; that's the law. And I don't agree by no means with ma, in going for Theodore against the nomination."
"Susan Barndollar, are you in earnest?" inquired her affectionate ma. "Who put it into your head to underrate and strangle down Theodore Fog, the oldest friend we have had sence we came to Quodlibet? and who brings more custom to our bar than the whole New-Light Club put together. Susan, Susan, I hope Jacob hain't been putting none of these ungrateful ideers into your breast. Ef this house of ours, commonly called and known by the name of The Hero, ought to go for any human, mortal, individual man, that man is Theodore Fog. Ef he is a little exintricin regard of his drinking, it won't be no new think in the Legislater, ef the tenth part of what I heerd is true. Ladies—tea," said the dame, as at this time a negro woman entered with a tray filled with great store of provender—"help yourself, Mrs. Younghusband—take a plate on your knee, and fork up one of them warfields—and take care of your gown, they're a dripping with butter. Mr. Secondthoughts, what under heaven has become of your perliteness that you can see Mrs. Younghusband a fishing up that briled dried beef without her fork no more sticking in it than if it was a live eel in the gravy!"
"Never mind me, Mrs. Ferret," replied Mrs. Younghusband, "and don't be a troublin' the schoolmaster on my account. They do say that there's some persons as hard to catch and pin down as hung beef crisped and floating in butter, and as you justly remarked, a while ago, one of these persons is not a hundred miles off from this house:" and here this good woman laughed heartily at her own joke.
"Oh Jesse Ferret, in course!" exclaimed the landlady.
"My pa!" said Mrs. Barndollar, joining in the laugh.
"As Mr. Ferret hasn't got many friends here," said Miss Hardbottle, "I'll be one. I think he is quite right, if he has no opinions, not to express them. Don't you think so, Mr. Secondthoughts?"
"Madam," said I in a very grave manner, "if I might be allowed to express myself freely, I would venture to remark, that it is very important to the ascendency of the New-Light Quodlibetarian Democratic party, that there should be no strife nor divisionin our ranks; and that, feeling the importance of this sentiment, it is one of our fundamental principles to go with the majority—whenever it can be ascertained. Now between Agamemnon Flag and Theodore Fog——"
"Theodore Fog is sich agoodcreature!" interrupted Mrs. Ferret.
"Ag is adearyoung man," said Mrs. Barndollar.
"As for that, ladies," said Miss Hardbottle, "if you speak of goodness or beauty, Andy Grant can beat either, though he is a Whig."
"Hester Hardbottle!" shouted Mrs. Ferret.
"Hester Hardbottle!" shouted Mrs. Snuffers.
"Hester Hardbottle!" shouted Mrs. Younghusband.
"Hester Hardbottle!" shouted Mrs. Barndollar—all four at once.
"I do think so," said Miss Hardbottle, sharply, "and what I do think, I say."
"You have no right to say it, madam," said Mrs. Barndollar.
"Free country," said Miss Hardbottle.
"No such a thing for Whigs," quickly returned Mrs. Barndollar.
"Ladies! ladies! ladies!" said I, "peace, if you please:" but there was no peace, for these excellent females soon got into such a state of confusion in the attack and defense of Andy Grant, that I believe the tea-party would have broken up in a state of rebellion, if it had not been for the entrance of Mr. Ferret in the very height of the tumult. His appearance gave another turn to the conversation, for it all turned upon him.
"And so you are not going to the Sycamore Spring to-morrow," cried one.
"And I 'spose you won't vote for Theodore Fog," said Number Two.
"Nor for Ag Flag," said Number Three.
"But you will drop in a sly ticket for Andy Grant, may be, at last, ef no one should find you out," said Mrs. Ferret, who in this series counted Number Four. "Oh Jesse Ferret, ef you had a drop of blood in you that wasn't milk-and-water, you would be ashamed of sich shilly-shally conduct, that even the women makes you a laughing-stock!"
"Wife," said Jesse, taking a fierce stand in self-defense, "drop it! If my blood was milk-and-water, it would be curds-and-whey before this time. I tell you again, old lady, a Publican's got no right to have sentiments. The party's double splitted, and no man knows which way to turn himself. There's that cursed Iron Railing; and there's that infernal Suspension; and there's the Divorce of the Government from bed and board with the banks, that everybody's talking about; and there's Purse and Sword, and Specie Circlar, and Mint Drops, and the Lord knows what; that a poor, sinful, infallible tavern keeper doesn't know who's who, and what's what. I'm sure I can't tell whether I'm on my head or my heels; and if I was to go down yonder to the Sycamore Spring and hear all the palavering there, I should get so flustrated I wouldn't know which eend of me went foremost. So, I tell you I'll stay at home and stick to my motto:—that's as good as if I swore to it. Solomon Secondthoughts, ain't I right?"
"Jesse," said I, mildly, "have you any respect forthe opinion of our distinguished representative, my former pupil, Middleton Flam?"
"Well, I voted for him," replied Jesse.
"Then," said I, "I admit there is a great perplexity about all these public measures and men, just at this time; and I am willing to allow that the New-Light Democracy do not as yet exactly understand their own minds; and therefore it is quite lawful to pause and look about you before you take your stand. This thing is certain, that the New-Light Democracy will undoubtedly go with the government, whatever line it chalks out for following the footsteps of its illustrious predecessor. Whether that line shall lead us North or South, East or West, my poor skill is not able to instruct you. Whether we areforthe banks oragainstthem, is yet undecided, since we are pledged at least in favor of our own. In a Quodlibetarian sense, I do not scruple to affirm that we areagainstthe banks andforthe divorce; but in a private sense that opinion will require some reflection. Mr. Flam will be home from Congress before long, and until then we shall suspend our opinion. We are, at all hazards, real Flam men. Flam—I drop the mister when I speak of him as a principle—is our polar star—our cynosure in politics—our Pisgah, which gives us a view of the Promised Land. As a principle, our New-Light Democracy is all out-and-out Flam. Flam is our father, our guide, our Pillar of Cloud. Wait till Middleton Flam comes home."
Having thrown out these well-weighed and sententious remarks, both for the women and for Jesse, I was inwardly delighted to see how soothing was the effectupon my auditory; and as it is a precept inculcated by some sage observer of mankind, I forget his name, to leave your company when you have made an agreeable impression upon them, I did not tarry for further converse, but took up my hat and stick, and bade my worthy friends "good night."
Upon my return to my lodgings, I sat down and made the foregoing narration of what had passed in my presence, and I have incorporated the same into this history, with no little mortification; feeling myself compelled thereto by the consideration that the scene I have described, being, as it were, the first fruits of that unhappy dissension which grew up among the New Lights, and a significant commentary thereon, it may serve in the way of warning to all good Quodlibetarian Democrats who may chance to peruse these pages, against the folly of ever allowing themselves to have any individual opinions, when the leaders and marshals of the party shall have taken the trouble off their hands of thinking and determining for them. And, indeed, the moral may be carried further. For it is obvious, if Jesse Ferret had acted in the spirit and the intelligence of a true Quod, he would have ascertained the majority and gone with it; instead of which, he intrenched himself behind this fortress of neutrality, comprehended in the absurd dogma that a Publican ought to have no sides. Undoubtedly, the true precept should be in all cases of public servants, "Take the upper side." Thereon chiefly hangs the Quodlibetarian theory.