For full five minutes after this, the uproar was tremendous. The Iron Railings and Anti-iron Railings almost came to blows. The Tumbledownians and Bickerbrayians took their appropriate sides in the contest, and, for a space, nothing was heard but shouts of Fog!—Flag!—Fog!—Flag! over the whole field. When both parties had bawled themselves perfectly hoarse, and for mere want of wind ceased the clamor, Theodore Fog mounted the hustings, and made a special request of his friends to keep the peace and hear Mr. Flag to an end. He put this request upon the ground of a personal favor to himself, and promised them that, at the proper time, they should hear his sentiments very fully upon all the agitating questions of the day.
This appeal was conclusive, and Mr. Flag once more presented himself. But the interruptions he had suffered seemed most unhappily to have thrown him entirely out of gear; and becoming very much embarrassed, he struggled for some moments to regain his self-possession, as I thought, without success—although Fox thought otherwise,—and, after less than half an hour's speaking, sat down, rather crest-fallen and mortified.
I may unwittingly do Mr. Flag injustice in this remark; for, in truth, my mind was greatly occupied with the tumult, and I confess I was, therefore, not a very attentive listener. Fox, on the contrary, was minutely observant of the speech, and did not scruple to pronounce it a masterly effort of eloquence, calculated to place Mr. Flag beside the first statesmen of our country. This was his opinion at the time, and it was even more warmly and eulogistically expressed subsequently, in The Whole Hog, where the speech appeared in nine closely-printed columns on the following Saturday.
Theodore Fog was always a great favorite at our public meetings, and the moment now approached when the field was to be surrendered to him. The New Lights, including the members of the nominating convention and the friends of the Iron Railing Compromise, backed by Virgil Philpot of The Scrutinizer, and a large force of Bickerbrayians, were determined that Agamemnon Flag should not want a very decisive token of applause; and they accordingly called out for "nine cheers for the regular candidate!" Responsive to this call, their whole party lustily set about the work; and, for some minutes after the conclusion of Agamemnon's speech, the air resounded with huzzas for "Flag and the Constitution!" "New Light and Regular Nomination!" This was answered by a round for "Fog and Reform!" "Retrenchment and no Iron Railing!" and Fog, in the midst of this acclamation, appearing on the speaker's stand, all cries were lost in the most violent clapping of hands.
Theodore Fog's figure is about six feet, lean and bony, and with a stoop which inclines a little to the right, so as to bring his left shoulder somewhat higher than its opposite. His arms are unusually long, his head small, his face strongly furrowed with deep lines, his eyes of a greenish luster, his nose decidedly of the pug species, his mouth large, his complexion of that sallow, drum-head, parchment hue that equally defies the war of the elements, and the ravages of alcohol. Although short of fifty years of age, his hair is iron gray, and spreads in a thick mat over his whole cranium. At no time of life has he been careful of dress, but now has declined into an extreme of negligence in this particular. On the present occasion, he wore a striped gingham coat, rather short in the sleeves, and cross-barred pantaloons; his shirt collar was turned down over a narrow, horsehair stock; and a broad black ribbon guard crossed his breast and terminated in the right pocket of a black bombazet waistcoat, where it was plainly to be seen from the external impression, lodged a large watch. He presented himself to the multitude, holding in his hand a rather shabby straw hat, which he, nevertheless, flourished with the air and grace of one who had known better days than his habiliments seemed to denote.
He stood for some time bowing and waving his hat in return for the clamorous approbation with which he was greeted; and when, at length, silence was restored, he began his speech.
"Countrymen and friends: you of Quodlibet, Bickerbray, Tumbledown and the adjacent parts, hear me! I am an old, tried and trusty, unflinching and unterrified Quodlibetarian New-Light Democrat—Flan Sucker, bring us a tumbler of water—tangle it, Flan: no hypocrisy in me, gentlemen,—I go for the ardent. You all know I am, and was from the first, opposed to the iron railing—(here arose a cheer from the Anties)—but I don't come to talk to you about that. You know, moreover, that I am an anti-nomination man—I'm out on independent grounds—every man for himself, as the jackass said to the chickens—(a loud laugh.) I want to say a word about Agamemnon Flag—commonly called Ag Flag. Who's he? Look at them gold spectacles, and you will see what he is at once. When the plastic hand of Dame Nature set about the fabrication of that masterpiece of human mechanism, a genuine, out-and-out thorough-stiched New-Light Democrat, she never thought of sticking upon him a nose to be ridden by two gold rings hung over it like a pair of saddlebags—(loud laughter.) We have other uses for our gold; we want it for mint-drops—old Tom Benton's mint-drops—to be run up into them, to give the honest, poor man something better, when his week's work is done, than Copperplate Bank rags, signed Nicodemus Handy—(loud shouts and cheers from Flan Sucker's squad and the Tumbledowns; and groans and hisses from the Convention men and Bickerbrays.) Friends, I tell you, our party is split; emphatically split. I have seen this coming for some time. We have three sets of New Lights among us, and it is time we should know it. There are the Mandarins, our big bugs, and I could name them to you. You will find them on Copperplate Ridge—('Bah! bah!' from the New-Light Club—'Go it The! go it, old fellow!' from the Anties.) You will find them at Popular Flats—('That won't do!' cried fifty voices; 'three cheers for the Hon. Middleton Flam!'—loud cheering for Flam: 'Walk into them, Fog!' from the Anties—great laughter and rubbing of hands among the Whigs.) You will find them in the Forwarding and Commission Line—(great uproar on all sides.) After the Mandarins, come the Middlings; and after the Middlings, the True Grits—the hearty, whole-souled, no-mistake Quods. I'm a True Grit!—(great applause.) We are nature's noblemen—give me that water, Flan. I call myself one of the Royal Family of the Sovereign People—(renewed laughter and applause.) I am no kid-glove-Mandarin-Democrat: I am no milk-and-water, flesh-and-fowl, half-hawk-half-buzzard-Middling-Democrat: I am, to all intents and purposes, toties quoties, in puris naturalibus, a True Grit, a whole True Grit, and nothing but a True Grit.—(Here Theodore was obliged to pause a full minute on account of the cheering.)
"Now this brings me," he continued after drinking off the potation which Flan Sucker had assiduously placed upon the stand for his use, "to Andy Grant. Andy Grant has told you a great deal about General Jackson's pledges, and his changes and whatnot. Well, sirs, he did change—what of it? Is Democracy like the laws of the Medes and Persians? Is that great sublime truth which vivifies the patriot's heart, resuscitates his ambition and sparkles in the human breast, like a stone in the bottom of a well, for toads to sit on? or is it the divine rainbow spanning the earth with its arch, and changing with the sun, now in the east, now in the west? Is it a post set up in a stream for the liquid element of human policy forever to roll by and leave behind? or is it the mighty mass of steam power that not only floats upon that element, but flies onward across the great ocean of mortal things forever changing in its career? Is not Democracy itself the march of intellect? and does not marching consist in change of place? I hear you all answer, with one accord, Ay, ay, ay!—(Taking the word from the orator, there was a loud affirmative response to these questions.)
"Well, then, Jackson did change. He was for the single term—he was against it: I confess the fact. He was for the Protective System—he was against it: I agree to it. He was for a National Bank—he was against it: what of that? He was for the distribution of the surplus, and again he was against it; I know it. He was for Internal Improvements;—he changed his mind—he was against them. Then again, sirs, he was against the interference of officers in the elections;—he was sorry for it, and took the other tack. He was against the appointment of members of Congress—in theory;—in practice he was for it. He was against this Sub-Treasury—and perhaps he is now for it. It is all true, as Andy Grant has told you:—it is in the documents, I don't deny it. Sirs, it is the glory of his character that he has been for and against everything;—and as Mr. Van Buren promises to follow in his footsteps, he, of course, will be for and against everything—I know him. He would not be a genuine New Light, if he were not. We are all (and here Fog raised his voice to the highest key, and struck the board sharply with his hand) FOR and AGAINST everything! How else can we be with the majority? What is the New-Light Quodlibetarian Democracy, but a strict conformity to the will of the majority? Against that and that only we never go!—(tremendous applause.) As Levi Beardsly said, Perish Commerce, Perish Credit!—and I say, Perish Currency, Banks, Sub-Treasury, Constitution, Law, Benton, Amos, Van—I had almost said perish Old Hickory—but always go with the MAJORITY!"
After this burst, which may be said to be truly eloquent, Theodore made a very happy hit in touching upon the natural hostility between the rich and the poor, showing, with great point of remark, how impossible it was for these two classes to have any Christian feelings toward each other; and arguing from that the great New-Light Democratic principle, that in every department of the government any man who holds property ought to be deprived of all influence, and that it was the poor man's right to legislate away the rich man's possessions. "Do we not know," said he, "that in every community the majority are poor? that there are two men without property for every one man with it? Of course then, it follows logically, that, as two heads are better than one, the sole right, as well as the sole power of legislation is in the poor, and that they may make laws for the government of the rich; but the rich cannot make laws for the government of the poor. Besides, who would be the most impartial in such a matter, the man legislating for his own property, or the man legislating for his neighbor's? This requires no reply."