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In the Autumn of 1839, the Hon. Middleton Flam was
again our candidate for congress. He was opposed by the
celebrated John Smith of Thoroughblue. This contest was
marked by one conspicuous feature: we had completely
succeeded in appropriating to our party the name of democrats—
at least we had labored very hard to do so;—our next
move was to get up the old hue and cry of Federalism
against the Whigs. This required great boldness; but
Middleton Flam entered upon the endeavor with the intrepidity
of a hero. Eliphalet Fox walked in his footsteps,
and from all quarters, simultaneously and by a well managed
concert, the cry of Federalist was poured forth upon our
opponents; and Henry Clay especially—as we counted on
him for the Presidential candidate—was proved to be tainted
with Federalism beyond all hope of bleaching it out.

This artifice of ours, so skilfully carried into practice by Mr.
Flam, excited the Whigs into the manifestation of a ferocity
altogether incredible. I do not mean to dwell upon the

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events of the election; but I cannot forbear noticing the
savage conduct of “The Thoroughblue Whole Team” on
this occasion. With that view, and in order that posterity
may be informed to what lengths the spirit of detraction was
carried in this memorable struggle for the ascendancy of the
New Light Quodlibetarian principles, I have thought it my
duty to transcribe an entire editorial article from the reckless
print I have just named. It will show how blind was its
author to the beauties of our system; how faint a perception
he had of the merits of that great discovery in political
philosophy, which sheds such lustre on the present age.
Verily, posterity will find reason to wonder at the dulness
of this our generation!

The infatuated and angry Augustus Postlethwaite Tompkinson
thus discourses, as he imagined, to the prejudice of
our great and growing party and its honored Representative:

“The most contemptible exhibition that we can conceive,
is that of a troop of renegade democrats, led by the nose by
a renegade Federalist:—Democrats scourged by the party
whip into the ranks, and degraded into flatterers and slaves
of the Executive;—a Federalist affecting fellowship with
Jacobins, Agrarians, Infidels and Fanny Wright's men.
What can be more base than a herd of mock Democrats professing
free opinion, free suffrage and equal rights, yet neither
daring to think, speak nor act but as the President's orders
shall reach them through the lips of a self-appointed and
self-seeking leader, recently a deserter from the rank fold,
though not from the service of Federalism? Amongst mean
figures, what is meaner than the sons of the ancient democracy
following the path and obeying the beck of a man who despised
their sires, who now holds no communion with them

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but to command, and who secretly indulges towards them
no other sentiments than derision and scorn? Mr. Flam is
of a tribe of gentlemen Federalists, who have had the skill
or good luck to subjugate the more weak and credulous of
the Democracy, and who are entitled to the gratifying distinction
of having done more to disgrace the ashes of their
fathers, and to heap obloquy upon their former comrades, than
all their old-time enemies could ever accomplish. By the
ravenous appetite with which they have sought office from
the hand that smote them; by the alacrity with which they
have surrendered their honor and consented to wear an appellation
which, from their cradles, they were taught to
abhor as an insult;—above all, by the unutterable baseness,
with which they obey the behest of the President, enjoining
them to persevere in stamping their own cherished name of
`Federalists,' as a signification of ignominy, upon the friends
they have betrayed, no less than upon the enemy who conquered
them in former fields, they have at last afforded the
only justification to be found, in all the past history of their
party, for that charge of treachery to the country, which
was always imputed to them by their adversaries, and which
the mass of the nation believed.

“This recent, unparallelled perfidy in so large a number of
renegades, will long be cited as conclusive confirmation of
that vulgar opinion, which has ever denied that the Federal
party, in its best day, was either patriotic or honest. To
see these men assiduously courting the multitude they have
always reviled; to hear them inveighing against the rich
they always fawned on, and at the same time attempting to
stigmatise every man who struggles after a decent competence
in life as an aristocrat!—especially to hear them denouncing
the thousands of estimable citizens, whose talents
and industry have raised them from poverty to independence,

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as enemies of the poor—and all for the sake of that little
significance or emolument which, through a long night of
travail, they have discovered by no other than this meanness,
they could obtain—is certainly the most despicable sacrifice
of character which cupidity, avarice and low ambition
have ever presented to the view of any nation.”

Alas! no straggling beam of the New Light has yet penetrated
the benighted Whig region of Thoroughblue—else I
should not have had to record this merciless assault upon
one of the most exalted characters of our times. Of course
this shaft fell harmless—“quidquid in buccam venerit, stultus
loquitur”—the fool's bolt is soon shot. Notwithstanding
this diatribe, Middleton Flam still exists—vivet et valet.
Yea, under this very hailstorm of vituperation, he was
again elected to the honorable post which he now fills, by
an increased majority.

We had now two great points settled with reference to
the canvass for the Presidency: the Whig candidate was to
be brought into disgrace as an Abolitionist and a Federalist.
Mr. Flam gave our club every assurance that these two
charges combined would destroy the purest man that ever
lived; and that it was only necessary to drive these spikes
with a sledgehammer every day, and the democracy in the
end could not fail to believe in the existence and in the
enormity of these offences, no matter who should be brought
out by the Whigs—whether Scott, Clay, Harrison or Webster.

But we had pretty conclusively made up our minds that
Clay was to be the man; and our club in consequence immediately
set about procuring the materials for a biography
of that statesman, designed to demonstrate that he had all
his life been a Hartford Conventionist in sentiment, and an
unsparing enemy of Southern institutions. This task was
consigned to Eliphabet Fox, who very soon amassed a

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wonderful amount of matter exactly to our purpose. In
this, Eliphabet gave evidence of his usual skill; as his facts
were so contrived that they might be used with equal success
against either of the four above named, or indeed any
one else who might be brought forward: but as Eliphalet
had a particular hatred for Mr. Clay, and was more accustomed
to defame him than any other great man in the
nation, the compilation was imbued with a spirit that would
have been much more effective in breaking down Mr. Clay's
reputation than that of either of the others.

Great was the sensation produced in Quodlibet, great was
our mortification, and great our surprise upon receiving the
news in December from Harrisburg. The convention actually
passed by Mr. Clay, passed by the great claims of
Scott and Webster, and brought out General William Henry
Harrison, together with John Tyler for the Vice Presidency;—
thus, by a perversity which, on all important occasions,
distinguishes the Whigs, putting the two old horses of 1836
upon the course.

Mr. Flam was now at Washington. Our Club met and
immediately opened a correspondence with him for advice.
“Keep your eye on the Globe,” was his first admonition.
His second was, “Open upon Harrison your Abolition batteries;—
swear that the nomination was procured by the
Emancipator;—charge Tyler with being a slave holder, and
send that off to New Hampshire;—prove that Harrison was
a stark Federalist by accepting an Ensigncy from the hands
of Washington;—but, above all, turn him into derision for
his poverty and plain habits.”

It was wonderful to see the zeal with which Quodlibet
set about the task assigned to it by its distinguished counsellor.
Eliphalet Fox, with a degree of magnanimity uncommon
in an editor, took the field in behalf of Mr. Clay.
“That persecuted patriot,” said he, “who deserved more

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of his party than any man in the nation, has been treated
with absolute contempt. It was due to his great claims to
offer him the Presidency; but the spirit of Abolition swayed
this factious convention, and Mr. Clay was rejected solely
on account of his well-known and deep-rooted attachment
to the slave holding interests of the South. As to General
Harrison,” the same article continued, “his humble station
as the clerk of a county court, his insignificance and poverty
will leave the Democrats but little to overcome. Well has an
enlightened and patriotic cotemporary press, a distinguished
pillar of the New Lights, remarked, in reference to the
habits of General Harrison's life and the lowness of his
associations, that two thousand dollars a year, a LOG CABIN,
and a barrel of HARD CIDER would induce him to resign all
claims to the honors his inconsiderate friends have proffered
him.”

The same paper propounded a series of interrogations
skilfully addressed to John Tyler, inquiring of him—what
number of slaves he employed on his plantation, what was
the ratio of their increase in each year, and how many he
had disposed of at various intervals to Southern traders:—
which interrogatories were admirably drawn up in language
so equivocal in its import as to infer, what it did not directly
assert, an extensive traffic in a commodity which could not
but excite great indignation against him amongst the large
mass of voters of all sides in the North.

How beautiful are these evidences of the operation of our
New Light philosophy! What a master in this science is
the unrivalled Eliphalet Fox!

It was soon discovered that our club had fallen into a
slight mistake touching the Log Cabin and Hard Cider,
and the charge of poverty brought against General Harrison.
The audacious Whigs had even the effrontery to
adopt the Log Cabin and Hard Cider as the emblem of

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their party, and to ask the aid of those whom we had inconsiderately
derided for living in those humble cabins and
using this cheap luxury of cider, to make war against our
New Light democracy. The Log Cabin instantly became
the representative of a sentiment, and a word of power;
and in a perfect tornado of enthusiasm, was raised in every
village, hamlet and meeting ground in the land.

Truly did this sudden upraising of the emblem strike dismay
into our ranks! Quid consilii capiemus? was our universal
question in Quodlibet. What should we do? Recourse
was had to Mr. Flam. “Drop,” said that ready-witted man
in reply, “the charge of poverty against Harrison: say he is
rolling in wealth. Bring out your Federalism against him with
new vigor. Call the Log Cabin banner senseless mummery—
and declare your disgust against it, as lowering the tone
of public sentiment and morals. If that does n't do, get
some New Light democratic preacher to say that Hard
Cider produces more intoxication than all the liquors the
democrats ever drank: let him rail against Whig meetings
as Hard Cider orgies—remember the word;—and if we can
only identify the New Light democracy with Temperance,
its twin sister, we shall produce an unheard-of effect.
Meantime, ply the Abolition battery with all possible diligence,—
and vamp up anew that old charge of hiring out
criminals to service; but be careful to make no mistake—
describe it as “selling poor white men into slavery for
debt.” To prove that Harrison is against slavery and at
the same time in favor of it, will be a most happy stroke
of our New Light Quodlibetarian philosophy. Don't fail
to do this with all possible industry. Tell Eliphalet Fox
that the endeavor is worthy of his genius, and if he ever
expects to become a great man, now is the opportunity
presented to him.”

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These counsels gave us great encouragement, and we set
ourselves to work in earnest. The New Light Club was
confined in its operations to the Borough of Quodlibet.
Our whole Congressional district, including Thorough Blue,
Tumbledown and Bickerbray, required the supervision of a
body which might be organized to regulate the affairs of
the canvass within that limit. This gave rise to the Central
Committee. A convention was called to meet in Quodlibet,
where every portion of the district should be represented.
That convention resulted in the appointment of a
Committee of Twelve of the staunchest and most active of
the New Lights. It was called “The Grand Central Committee
of unflinching New Light Quodlibetarian Democrats.”
The name was sonorous, euphonious, and, in a
certain sense magnificent—but being too long for ordinary
use, we reduced it for working purposes to “The Great
New Light Democratic Central Committee of Quodlibet.”
Eliphalet Fox was made President; and the humble author
of these chronicles, in consideration of his fidelity in the
discharge of his duty to the New Light Club, was chosen
to be secretary also of the committee—an honor which,
with due reverence and thankfulness, he hath assumed.

From the date of its organization, the Committee, a majority
whereof are inhabitants of Quodlibet, meet once a
week with most commendable punctuality, and, as we have
reason to believe, with signal usefulness to the glorious
cause in which we have embarked. Zachary Younghusband,
who is a member, gratuitously and generously, out of his
mere zeal in the cause, proffered the use of his room up
stairs above the tin-plate workshop, for our sessions—an
offer which we were reluctantly obliged to decline, after one
trial, on account of the noise created by the workmen below.
I mention this praiseworthy offer as due to Zachary,
in favor of whom the Committee passed a vote of thanks.

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We found a more quiet place of meeting in the back room
of the cabinet store of Isaiah Crape, the Undertaker, for
which we agreed to pay fifty cents a week and find our
own lights. In this secluded spot much is done to shape
and direct the destinies of this Great Republic.

p239-217

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