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 the two sides and back of the square, and iron in 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 "a Publican 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 I do hold 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 the New 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 exintric in 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 division in 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 a good creature!" interrupted Mrs. Ferret.

"Ag is a dear young 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 for the 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 are for the banks or against them, 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 are against the banks and for the 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 effect upon 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.