University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER VII

Thomas Jefferson—Defender of "Equal Rights to all
Men"

Mr. Jefferson wrote Giles, December 25, 1825: "Far advanced
in my eighty-third year, worn down with infirmities
which have confined me almost entirely to the house for seven
or eight months past, it afflicts me much to receive appeals to
my memory, now almost blank, for transactions so far back
as that which is the subject of your letter. However, I remember
well the interview with Mr. Adams; not, indeed, in
the very words which passed between us, but in their substance,
which was of a character too awful, too deeply engraved in
my mind, and influencing too materially the course I had to
pursue, ever to be forgotten. He called on me pending the embargo
to further its appeal, stating that he had information,
that certain citizens of the eastern States were in negotiation
with agents of the British government, in order to effect an
agreement that the New England States should take no
further part in the war then going on; that without formally
declaring their separation from the Union of the States, they
should withdraw from all aid and obedience to them; that
their navigation and commerce should be free from restraint
and interruption by the British; that they should be considered
and treated by them as neutrals, and as such might conduct
themselves towards both parties; and at the close of the war,
be at liberty to join the confederacy." And again on the
following day he wrote Giles: "I see, as you do, and with
the deepest affliction, the rapid strides with which the federal

branch of our Government is advancing towards the usurpation
of all the rights reserved to the States, and the consolidation
in itself of all powers, foreign and domestic; and that too,
by constructions which, if legitimate, leave no limit to their
power. Under the power to regulate commerce, they assume
indefinitely that also over agriculture and manufactures, and
call it regulation to take the earnings of one of these branches
of industry, and that too, the most depressed, and put them
into the pockets of the other, the most flourishing of all. And
what is the resource for the preservation of the Constitution?
Reason and argument? You might as well reason and argue
with the marble columns encircling them. Are we then to stand
to our arms, with the hot-headed Georgian? No. That must
be the last resource, not to be thought of until much longer
and greater suffering. We must have patience and longer endurance
then with our brethren while under delusion; give
them time for reflection and experience of consequences; keep
ourselves in a situation to profit by the chapter of accidents;
and separate from our companions only when the sole alternatives
left, are the dissolution of our Union with them, or submission
to a government without limitation of powers. But
this opens with a vast accession of strength from their younger
recruits, who, having nothing in them of the feelings or principles
of '76, now look to a single and splendid government of
an aristocracy, founded on banking institutions, and monied
incorporations under the guise and cloak of their favored
branches of manufactures, commerce and navigation, riding
and ruling over the plundered ploughman and beggared yeomanry.
This will be to them a next best blessing to the
monarchy of their first aim, and perhaps the surest stepping
stone to it. I learn with great satisfaction that your school is
thriving well, and that you have at its head a truly classical
scholar. He is one of three or four whom I can hear of in our
State. We were obliged last year to receive shameful Latinists
into the classical school of the University; such as we will
certainly refuse as soon as we can get from better schools a
sufficiency of those properly instructed to form a class. We
must get rid of this Connecticut Latin, of the barbarous confusion
of long and short syllables, which renders doubtful
whether we are listening to a reader of Cherokee, Shawnee,
Iroquois, or what. Our University has been most fortunate
in the five professors procured from England—a finer selection
could not have been made. Besides their being of a grade of
science which has left little superior behind, the correctness of
their moral character, their accommodating dispositions, and
zeal for the prosperity of the institution, leave us nothing more
to wish. I verily believe that as high a degree of education
can be obtained here as in the country they left. And a finer
set of youths I never saw assembled for instruction. They
committed some irregularities at first, until they learned the
lawful length of their tether; since which it has never been
transgressed in the smallest degree. A great proportion of
them are severely devoted to study, and I fear not to say, that
within twelve or fifteen years from this time, a majority of
the rulers of our State will have been educated here. They
shall carry hence the correct principles of our day, and you may
count assuredly that they will exhibit their country in a degree
of sound respectability it has never known, either in our day
or those of our forefathers. I cannot live to see it. My joy
must only be that of anticipation—you may see its full fruition,
owing to the twenty years I am ahead of you in time."

Mr. Jefferson, February 7, 1826, wrote Cabell of his great
mortification over the articles in the Enquirer, by "American
Citizen," purporting a familiar talk at Monticello about his
method of obtaining money from the Legislature—not in a
lump sum, but in small amounts, and his jocose reply: "No
one likes to have more than one hot potato at a time crammed
down his throat. He makes me declare that I have intentionally
proceeded in a course of dupery of our Legislature, teasing
them, as he makes me say, for six or seven sessions for
successive aids to the University, and asking a part only at a
time, and intentionally concealing the ultimate cost, and gives
an inexact statement of a story of Obrian. Now, our annual
reports will show that we constantly gave full and candid accounts
of the money expended, and statements of what might
still be wanting, founded on the Proctor's estimates. No man
ever heard me speak of the grants of the Legislature but with
acknowledgments of their liberality, which I have always declared
had gone far beyond what I could have expected in
the beginning. Yet the letter writer has given to my expressions

an aspect disrespectful of the Legislature, and calculated
to give them offence, which I do absolutely disavow."

In spite of this denial, the suggestion was so applicable,
that many in a spirit of resentment, continued to hold it against
Mr. Jefferson and the fortunes of the University—that which
was very evident in the Legislature the remainder of that
session. On February 17th, he wrote Madison: "Immediately
on seeing the overwhelming vote of the House of Representatives
against giving us another dollar, I rode to the
University and desired Mr. Brockenbrough to engage in
nothing new, to stop everything on hand which could be done
without, and to employ all his force and funds in finishing
the circular room for the books, and the Anatomical theater,
both being indispensable. There have arrived twenty-five
boxes of books from Paris, London and Germany, and must
await until May their shelving. In the selection of our Law
Professor, we must be rigorously attentive to his political
principles. You will recollect, that before the Revolution,
Coke Littleton was the universal elementary book of law students,
and a sounder whig never wrote, nor of profounder
learning in the orthodox doctrines of the British constitution,
or in what were called English liberties. You remember also
that our lawyers were then all whigs. But when his black-letter
text, and uncouth but cunning learning got out of
fashion, and the honied Mansfieldism of Blackstone became
the students' hornbook, from that moment, that profession (the
nursery of our Congress) began to slide into toryism, and
nearly all the young brood of lawyers now are of that hue.
They suppose themselves, indeed, to be whigs, because they
no longer know what whigism or republicanism means. It is
in our seminary that the vestal flame is to be kept alive; it is
thence to be spread anew over our own and the sister States.
If we are true and vigilant in our trust, within a dozen or
twenty years a majority of our own legislature will be from
our school, and many disciples will have carried its doctrines
home with them in their several States, and will have leavened
thus the whole mass.

"You will have seen in the newspapers some proceedings in
the Legislature, which have cost me much mortification. My
own debts had become considerable, but not beyond the effect

of some lopping of property, which would have been little
felt, when our friend gave me the coup de grace. Ever since
that I have been paying twelve hundred dollars a year interest
on his debt, which, with my own, was absorbing so much of
my annual income, as that the maintenance of my family was
making deep and rapid inroads on my capital, and had already
done it. Had crops and prices for several years been such as
to maintain a steady competition of substantial bidders at market
all would have been safe. If it is permitted in my case to
sell my lands, etc., by lottery, those here alone will pay everything,
and leave me Monticello and a farm free. If refused I
must sell everything here, perhaps considerably in Bedford,
move thither with my family, where I have not even a log hut
to put my head into, and whether ground for burial, will
depend on the depredations which under the form of sales,
shall have been committed on my property. But why afflict
you with these details? Indeed, I cannot tell, unless pains
are lessened by communication with a friend. The friendship
which has subsisted between us, now half a century, and the
harmony of our political principles and pursuits, have been
sources of constant happiness to me through that long period.
And if I remove beyond the reach of attentions to the University,
or beyond the bourne of life itself, as I soon must, it is a
comfort to leave that institution under your care, and an
assurance that it will not be wanting. It has also been a great
solace to me, to believe that you are engaged in vindicating
to posterity the course we have pursued for preserving to them,
in all their purity, the blessings of self-government, which we
had assisted too in acquiring for them. If ever the earth has
beheld a system of administration conducted with a single
and steadfast eye to the general interest and happiness of those
committed to it, one which, protected by truth, can never know
reproach, it is that to which our lives have been devoted. To
myself you have been a pillar of support through life. Take
care of me when dead, and be assured that I shall leave with
you my last affections."

Cabell during the remainder of the legislative session (1825)
was much interested in advancing Mr. Jefferson's bill of 181718,
in so far as it pertained to intermediate education, or the
establishment of nine Colleges. For these he thought the idea

of making the districts give the land very popular, "as then
we can give twenty-five thousand dollars to the University,
and a salary of five hundred dollars to each college. I like
the idea of having one near the University, as a preparatory
school."

All of this Mr. Jefferson heartily favored, writing, February
14th: "Wait not a moment, but drive at once the nail which
you find will go." A week later, February 20th, Cabell wrote
Mr. Jefferson, that the bill granting a lottery for the disposal
of his property had passed, and that he himself had prepared
an amendatory act relative to the Colleges, which he
feared would not pass owing to the lateness of the session.

Mr. Jefferson, March 30th, wrote the President—John
Quincy Adams: "I am thankful for the very interesting
message and documents of which you have been so kind as to
send me a copy, and will state my recollections as to the particular
passage of the message to which you ask my attention.
The stipulations making part of these instructions, which respected
privateering, blockades, contraband, and freedom of
the fisheries, were not original conceptions of mine, but of
Dr. Franklin. I happened only to have been the inserter of
them in the first public act which gave the formal sanction
of a public authority. We accordingly proposed our treaties,
containing these stipulations, to the principal governments of
Europe."

Mr. Jefferson's last circular, April 21st, informed the Visitors
that Mr. William Wert had declined the Presidency of
the University, as well as the Professorship of Law, but
that Mr. Lomax had accepted the latter and would begin instruction
on July 1st.

From the issuance of this circular Mr. Jefferson only lived
two and a half months, but, in spite of infirmities of age and
sickness, he continued his frequent rides to the University, to
within a few weeks of his death, in order to keep in touch
with all matters, to see the professors, the proctor, the librarian,
and the progress made on the Rotunda. The exterior of this
was about completed, except its beautiful front portico, and
upon this workmen were engaged actively all during the
summer, so that when he made his final trip he slowly ascended
the winding steps to the library floor, where he stood and

gazed through the center window—that which many of us
students often repeated, after hearing from Mr. Wertenbaker
the episode. It was here that Mr. Wertenbaker observed him
watching the various mechanics and hastened to him from the
library room with a chair which he accepted for nearly an
hour, during which he witnessed the first marble capital lifted
to the top of its pillar on the southwest corner. That accomplished,
he journeyed home in contentment little conscious
that he would never return. But the child was well-born,
healthy, of the right material, and could thrive without its
parent. He had nurtured it near unto maturity and had an
abiding faith of it thriving in others' hands—bringing to himself
abundant reward, to itself unbounded credit, and to the
world imperishable light.

Mr. Jefferson wrote his last published letter, June 24th,
to Mr. Weightman: "The kind invitation I received from you,
on the part of the citizens of the city of Washington, to be
present with them at their celebration on the fiftieth anniversary
of American Independence, as one of the surviving
signers of that instrument pregnant with our own, and the
fate of the world, is most flattering to myself, and heightened
by the honorable accompaniment proposed for the comfort of
such a journey. It adds sensibly to the sufferings of sickness,
to be deprived by it of a personal participation in the rejoicings
of that day. I would have been delighted to have met the
remnant of that host of worthies, who joined with us on that
day, in the bold and doubtful election we were to make for
our country, between submission or the sword and to have
enjoyed with them the consolatory fact, that our fellow citizens,
after half a century of experience and prosperity, continue
to approve the choice we made. May it be to the world, what
I believe it will be (to some parts sooner, to others later, but
finally to all), the signal of arousing men to burst the chains
under which monkish ignorance and superstition had persuaded
them to bind themselves, and to assume the blessings
and security of self-government. That form which we have
substituted, restores the free right to the unbounded exercise
of reason and freedom of opinion. The general spread of the
light of science has already laid open to every view the palpable
truth, that the mass of mankind has not been born with

saddles on their backs nor a favored few booted and spurred,
ready to ride them legitimately, by the grace of God."

Mr. Jefferson passed away, Tuesday, July 4th, at 12.50
o'ck. P. M., having retained, until two hours previous, perfect
consciousness. During the last few days he spoke freely of
his approaching death, discussed and arranged as best he could
all private affairs, and expressed anxiety for the prosperity of
the University, which, however, he believed absolutely safe in
the hands of Mr. Madison and the other Visitors. Pathetically
he spoke of Mr. Madison's virtue, purity, wisdom, learning,
and great abilities, and then stretching his head back on
the pillow, with a sigh, exclaimed: "But oh! he could never
in his life stand up against strenuous opposition." From youth
on, they had resided in close proximity, visited frequently,
consulted and advised each other, and enjoyed an unbroken
friendship kindred to love. Several days after the sad event,
Mr. Madison wrote a member of Mr. Jefferson's family: "But
we are more than consoled by the assurance that he lives and
will live in the memory and gratitude of the wise and good,
as a luminary of science, as a votary of liberty, as a model of
patriotism, and as a benefactor of the human kind. In these
characters I have known him, and not less in the virtues and
charms of social life, for a period of fifty years, during which
there was not an interruption or diminution of mutual confidence
and cordial friendship for a single moment in a single
instance."

Mr. Jefferson was buried in the family graveyard between
his wife and daughter Mary, while the eldest daughter, Martha,
was placed ten years later at the head of these three graves.

Professor Tucker in his life of Mr. Jefferson states that:
"The funeral was modest and unpretending as he had directed.
It took place on the afternoon of the 5th. The day was rainy,
and many from distant parts of the country, who might have
been disposed to pay this last tribute of respect, were thereby
prevented. The number, however, who did attend, was considerable."

An account of much greater detail came to my notice while
a student, in the fall of 1875, shortly after the death of
Thomas Jefferson Randolph, which I then took from The
Chronicle (Charlottesville)—a paper I saw in those days

University—West Range Arcade

(Looking southward)

FACING 142

every week, and continued to subscribe to years afterwards.
The article is headed, JEFFERSON, and is in part: "Mr.
Andrew K. Smith, of the General Land Office, having noticed
the death of Col. Thomas Jefferson Randolph, of Virginia,
sends the Washington Republican the following interesting
personal remembrances of the deceased and of Jefferson. They
constitute a valuable contribution to the current literature of
the day.

I well remember the last time I saw him, in the summer
of 1826. He was then a tall, fine-looking person, about
thirty-five years of age. It was at Monticello, the residence
of his grandfather, the immortal Thomas Jefferson, and the
singular circumstances attending the funeral of the latter is
fresh in my memory. Nearly fifty years have elapsed since
then, and the greater portion of those present at the burial
having passed to their reward, I have thought I would give
you and the readers of your valuable paper the benefit of the
recollections of my younger days, should you think them
worthy of publication. Mr. Jefferson had been for some time
confined to his house, and about the 1st. of July, 1826, the sad
news was brought to Charlottesville and the University of
Virginia that Dr. Dunglison, professor of medicine at the
University and Mr. Jefferson's family physician, had pronounced
his case a hopeless one. You may imagine the grief
of his old friends about Charlottesville who had known him
from youth to old age, and of the students of the University,
who truly admired and respected him as the Rector of their
Alma Mater. On the 3rd of that month the doctor, having
stated that his illustrious patient was calmly yet fast sinking,
was importuned to try his skill to prolong his life at least
until the next day, that he might see the sun rise upon the fiftieth
anniversary of the day when he framed the Declaration
of Independence. All was done that care and skill could do,
but about 1 o'ck, P. M., on the 4th, while the cannons were
booming around us, we were notified by the tolling of the
courthouse bell, that the spirit of the author of the Declaration
of Independence had taken its flight from its tenement of clay.
The time for the funeral was fixed for 5 o'ck, P. M. 6th, and it
was arranged that the procession should form on the courthouse
square at 4 o'ck, but a difference of opinion arose as to

whether the citizens or the students were entitled to the right
of the procession, and much time was lost, and several of us,
becoming tired of the discussion, turned our horses' heads to
the mountain. On arriving at the cemetery, we found that the
coffin had been removed from the house and was resting on
narrow planks placed across the grave, with a view of enabling
the greater number expected to have a better opportunity of
seeing it. Ex-Governor Thomas Mann Randolph, son-in-law
of the deceased, stood at the head of the grave, and his son,
Thomas Jefferson Randolph, at the foot. Soon after the Rev.
Mr. Hatch, of the Episcopal Church, made his appearance, and,
supposing they were waiting him, as is customary with the
usage of that church, commenced the service at the gate of
the cemetery, reading as he walked to the grave. Mr. Randolph,
Sr. (who was not on good terms with Mr. Jefferson)
thought it the duty of his son to inform the clergyman that
they were awaiting the arrival of the citizens, professors, and
students, and his son deeming it the duty of the father to do
so, kept silent, and the services went on to the close of the
same. The grave was filled up, and the thirty or forty persons
who witnessed the interment started for home, and met the
procession, numbering about fifteen hundred persons, coming
up the mountain. They were sorely disappointed, and, in some
cases angered at the report we made, and were only satisfied
when the explanation was made the next day in the Charlottesville
Advocate. Among the students present at the funeral, I
recollect seeing Edgar Allan Poe, a high minded and honorable
young man, though easily persuaded to his wrong; also
Robert M. T. Hunter, of Virginia, and Colonel John S. Preston,
of South Carolina. I believe the last two persons are still
alive."

Although this sketch of Mr. Jefferson is intended simply to
outline the chief activities of his long and eventful life, especially
emphasizing his connection with education and the University
of Virginia, yet a few supplementary thoughts concerning
his principles, his position, and his power upon mankind
may even here be pardonable. For forty years he was
in public service, measuring up beyond reasonable criticism
to every expected duty, so that whether in the house of burgesses,
continental congress, congress, executive mansion of

his State, minister to France, Secretary of State, Vice-President,
or President, the same concordant expression was universal,
"well done, thou good and faithful servant." During
this tenure of office he was in a continued process of evolution
from one position to another—resigning some, declining
others, always acting, as he conceived, for the best interest of
his country and his people. Certainly he lived in the most
crucial period of the Nation's history—its formative age—
when wisdom, judgment, knowledge, foresight and hindsight
were all needed, indeed imperative, for launching safely the
new empire; when ignorance, superstition, intolerance, disorganization
and dissatisfaction were at their height—from
which happily we have ever since gradually and safely been
drifting; when willing and capable hands were rare, and honorable
purposes and enactments so likely to be perverted by the
low and mercenary.

At every opportunity he strongly asserted himself for right,
irrespective of those it hit or missed—sacrificing if necessary,
though often with bitter pangs, friend and foe alike, that the
general good might be served. He had pronounced views and
convictions, those formed usually upon careful thought, reading,
observation and comparison, but in spite of this he was
neither dogmatic nor arrogant in opinion and action, as he
was ready always to entertain, weigh-well and profit by the wisdom
of others. Once convinced, however, he seldom changed
—simply held quietly and firmly to his thoroughly digested
conclusions. As such, he was ripe for the times and the times
ripe for him, consequently he arose to be one of the strongest
advocates for knowledge, religious harmony and toleration,
universal supremacy of organization, reason, sense and justice,
and in doing that, without any personal preference, became the
leading champion of certain principles, and therefore the great
target for those with whom he differed. By his acts and
doctrines, both his defenders and defamers have endeavored
seemingly to justify their relative positions; for his, like all
systems of philosophy, contained slight ambiguities, sufficient
to create in the willing mis-conceptions and mis-interpretations.
It has been a century since he controlled the pulse of
this great Republic, the period of his strongest influence—
years that have carried poorly in sacred memory many of

the then reigning satellites—but as we look at him through this
long vista little of his individuality seems to have been lost—
"Thomas Jefferson still lives."

Why this lasting impress or perpetuity? Is it because he
was a simple minded and ingenuous demagogue, with a superficial
learning and philosophy, lacking sincereness and truthfulness,
possessing a pusillanimous and morbid terror of popular
censure and an insatiable thirst for popular praise?
For all of these and much more his traducers have affirmed
many times against him. "Be sure your sins will find you out,"
would never have missed an application to him, had he possessed
the many claimed. As one of his worthy successors
wisely said: "You can fool some people all the time, all the
people some time, but never all the people all the time." Had
he been the demon his enemies alleged, would not in life his
popularity have waned rather than increased, and in death the
plaudits of the intelligent world been withheld? Against his
enemies he only said: "I have not considered them as abusing
me: they have never known me. They have created an
imaginary being clothed with odious attributes, to whom they
have given my name; and it is against that creature of their
imagination they have levelled their anathemas." Surely his
recognition and following came not through an invincible
tongue—he was no Demosthenes or Webster—for oratory
was not his gift; he even could not make an effective speech,
long or short, and never did; he was no loud talker, proclaiming
his knowledge and dogmas whenever opportunity presented;
nor was he a witty, facetious conversationalist that
appeals to most persons. On the contrary he was serious, reserved
and retiring, the very last of all to force opinions where
and when unsought; nor was he imperious, self-centered,
haughty or conceited—qualities that frequently count for something.
He even neglected to accept all the honors due him,
preferring to direct others discreetly in things he might easily
have accomplished himself, thus permitting them to share the
entire reward. Was he shrewd, smart, clever and bright in
the sense we to-day usually apply those attributes, making
good all in one's composition tending towards material profit?
Did he live alone for self and the present, bending everything
for his individual advantage and his immediate generation's

gain? Oh no! He was a man far removed from this, and,
whatever may have been in the past, no careful and liberal student
of to-day, in the light of accessible facts, can reach other
than the one conclusion—that he was a man of exceptional
learning and greatness, whose power and influence during our
Nation's formative period stood second only to Washington's,
whose will and word later in life took the first position, dominating
absolutely political sentiment and principles, and whose
creeds now, generations after death, furnish the most acceptable
doctrines to the great majority, who gladly extol him as
the greatest prophet of national government and wisest expounder
of human rights the world has ever known.

But this was simply his political side, that through which
the millions reckon his chief worth and merit—a side Mr.
Jefferson never thought he possessed, for he did not consider
himself a politician, but only an expounder and advocate of
right and justice to all alike, preference and favor to none.
Beyond this, however, stands in exceptional brightness his
life-work for the general "diffusion of knowledge and religious
toleration" throughout the land. Himself a free
and liberal thinker, he felt it a humane duty to enlighten
others to become likewise; himself educated, he desired all
others to share the inestimable blessing, according to individual
capacity and need, believing this latter the only key
for unlocking the former. Thus he wrote, February 15, 1821:
"Nobody can doubt my zeal for the general instruction of
the people. Who first started that idea? I may surely say,
myself. Turn to the bill, in the revised code, which I drew
more than forty years ago, before which the idea of a plan
for the education of the people, generally, had never been
suggested in the State, and there you will see developed the
first rudiments of the whole system of general education we
are now urging and acting on."

Only think of the then prevailing indifference to the subject—that
he should have labored passively for forty years
to enlighten his people, with little or no effect, and actively
another ten before, happily, he saw the dawn. And yet he
was reconciled and satisfied in delay—for he had at last
founded what he believed destined to become a great educational
center—his cherished University.

Mr. Jefferson like most martyrs to a cause or creed—hoped
against hope. Too sadly and seriously he realized the world's
complement of conspirators, fools, hypocrites and knaves;
that human nature was not exempt from duplicity, selfishness,
ingratitude, vanity and treachery in their manifold forms
and disguises; that even the sanctity of the church was perverted
frequently in a service for individual gain; and that
while our mental endowments indicate the highest type of
God's creation—a likeness unto himself—yet our appetites,
propensities and passions often remove us but slightly from
the brute and lower animal forms. His only hope for a partial
redemption of his people from these weaknesses, lay in education,
religious and political freedom, and the domestic
serenity of agricultural pursuits—aloof from congested multitudes,
where vice, evil and immoral purposes have best
opportunity to thrive. Thus he said: "Those who labor in
the earth are the chosen people of God." Our country, as well
as others, seemingly at present inclines to move in the opposite
direction—away from farm life to that of the city, to
concentrate and combine in every line of industry, to make the
small minority financial kings, the great majority indigent
artisans and peasants, but in spite of this tendency the world
is said to be growing better—certainly an anomaly, if Mr.
Jefferson's doctrine be true. The fact is that his beliefs,
hopes and predictions have not all been realized or verified,
nor, it may be said with equal truth, have they had fair
chance and trial. Thus he thought that twenty-four years
of continuous Republican supremacy—administrations of himself,
Madison and Monroe—and others most likely to follow
in course of time, with their self-apparent benefits, would
eclipse, and possibly destroy finally, the seeds of Federalism,
provided the people, plain and otherwise, could through education—hence
one of his great objects therefor—be made to
understand and appreciate the ultimate and universal advantage
centered in his political doctrines. From no fault
of his, as history was his teacher, he failed to gauge our
country aright, never conceiving the enormous strides it was
destined to take within a single century—that only expected
of a dozen or more. Nor had he the slightest conception that
emigration would develop to any great proportions; or that

so many States would soon follow Virginia's example, only
with increased liberality, in establishing each its own University;
or that the wealth and resources of our country would
quickly become so enormous as to justify many individuals
endowing and creating private institutions with untold millions,
only to prove formidable competitors of his own favorite
child, teaching the very principles that enabled the accumulation
of these fortunes, therefore their own existence—
policies he so thoroughly detested and strove hard to combat.

No one can predict accurately the future of our country
—whether its permanency, and the preservation of the spirit,
"the greatest good to the greatest number," would have
better been assured by moving slowly along conservative lines,
in keeping with the past, present, and likely future of foreign
nations known to Mr. Jefferson, from which he caught much
of his inspiration and thought, or to have advanced rapidly
and radically, as certainly we have, beyond the bounds of all
precedent. Time alone will reveal and then only problematically.
But "Thomas Jefferson still lives," in spite of some
unpopular doctrines and erring judgment, and why? Chiefly
because he was a great man, accomplished something for the
benefit of mankind, and always endeavored intelligently to do
right. Surely he possessed the highest manly attributes—
ability, conviction, firmness, generosity, gentleness, honor,
honesty, knowledge, kindness and sincereness; he championed
a cause relentlessly whether the monetary consideration be
for or against him personally; he devoted the very best energies
of his entire life to the betterment of his country and people,
whether under or out of salary, and in order that his undivided
talents might aid in solving the most serious questions—
those he considered infinitely of more importance than individual
problems—he neglected personal affairs and consumed
a private fortune, thus beginning rich and dying poor. A
noble ambition and precept—one that in his case, as usual,
produced a final aching void, but that seemingly with which
he was perfectly satisfied, judging from his own words: "It
is from posterity we are to expect remuneration for the sacrifices
we are making for their service of time, quiet and good
will, and I fear not the appeal." Is it more than the desert
of every faithful and conscientious worker, having spent

a life in strengthening others and weakening one's self, to
expect, nay crave, some slight recognition and gratitude in
death, if not in life, from those directly and indirectly served?
Is it surprising that, "having fought the good fight," he
should say in his declining days: "Tranquility is the greatest
good of life, and the strongest of our desires, that of dying
in the good will of all mankind." These are only natural
sentiments, by most persons concealed, sadly without realization—by
Mr. Jefferson willingly expressed, gloriously realized.

With all of his virtues and greatness he, like the rest of
frail humanity, fell in some instances under the bane of just
criticism—indeed possessed faults—but his strength overshadowed
his weakness as does the mountain the molecule.
The author and champion of a political school, the rank and
file looked upon him as their chief apostle from whom advice
and opinions were sought by endless thousands, resulting in
an enormous correspondence that enslaved and shortened his
declining years. But the disciple of his people, he did their
bidding as though a public servant—but without compensation
and with a kindness prompted by genuine love. This in
the light of the present-day business world might be considered
his greatest besetting sin. He detested the abridgement
or curtailment of any man's liberty and rights, seemingly forgetful
that it is human nature when given an ell to take a mile
—to violate the Golden Rule, thereby necessitating laws for
protection and restriction. It is a beautiful dream to see man
accountable alone to himself and his Maker, acting with equal
justice to all alike, considering self no more than others, but
in practice it is so often violated. Thus Mr. Jefferson had too
great confidence and trust in mankind. This was another of
his shortcomings—accepting human nature as it ought to be
and not as it is.

But in this generation these trivial weaknesses are forgotten—he
remains a tower of strength for parents to honor
their children with his name, while associations, cities, colleges,
companies, counties, corporations, hotels, institutions,
schools, towns and townships will ever keep it familiar to an
unforgetting people. Thus physically dead, spiritually he goes
marching on—still breathing his crest motto as a benediction

upon oppressed humanity wherever found: Ab eo libertas
a quo spiritus—From Him (is) liberty from Whom (is)
life. We cannot improve upon Donaldson's conclusion:
"The bibliography of Jefferson is now some six hundred
volumes and incidentally reaches thousands more. From
the records, from the testimony of his fellows and family,
from the results of his public acts and private virtues he
stands in the front line of American immortals. He was
useful to his period, and his life and deeds are valuable as an
example to posterity; he was the chief founder of the Republic
of the United States. Lovers of liberty and the rights of
man are partial to the name and fame of Thomas Jefferson;
in our Republic he is the sweetest flower that blossoms in
liberty's garden. The man at the wheel several times in
periods of National danger, he always brought the ship of
State into port with banners flying. In public matters he kept
his temper; he pushed onward for the liberty and rights of
mankind, and he never failed to succeed. He made more
notches on the column of progress of human rights in the
years of his political life and power than any other five American
statesmen—Thomas Jefferson, the publicist; the forceful
man in the formative period of our Republic; the statesman
and leader, was always in the forefront of the battle for
humanity, giving and taking blows. This great man of affairs
was as humane and lovable as a woman. This man who
reached the highest possible altitude of human glory was one
of the softest by nature in private life, and beloved of children
and brutes. He walks through history in public matters as
the iconoclast. In his family and domestic life he was as gentle
as the Master, and his presence as sweet as the voice of a
loving song.

"Along in the eighties it was my privilege and honor to be
a guest at the house of the last person living who was with
Mr. Jefferson at his death. Stately, with Jefferson's features,
even to his nose and his reddish-brown hair; queenly in manner
and with a memory for family matters and events, as
tenacious and retentive as that of a gossipy society woman on
personal scandals. This granddaughter of Thomas Jefferson
(Mrs. Septima Randolph Meikleham, nee Septima Ann Carey
Randolph) was a link connecting one epoch in our nationality

with the other. Fourteen years of age at his death, she recalled
vividly events that had happened eight years prior to
that event. She recalled the home life at Monticello, and the
habits and manners of her grandfather. She was born at
Monticello; she saw James Madison, James Monroe and the
Marquis De Lafayette sit at table with Mr. Jefferson. In her
presence they chatted revolutionary events so that she seemed
almost a part of that period. General Washington and other
heroes, by reason of this table chat, seemed to her to be
friends and almost at hand. She had unbounded affection for
her grandfather, and recalled him as a gentle loving person,
without temper, attentive to the poor, kindly to the lowly,
and the equal of any man who ever lived. Their long rides
in the country about Monticello; their journeys to Mr. Madison's
and Mr. Monroe's homes in the vicinage; the noonday
halt, with lunch at a roadside spring, half-way on the journey
from Monticello to Mr. Madison's at Montpelier she loved to
talk about. She vividly recalled and described `Eagle,' Mr.
Jefferson's favorite saddle horse; she had often been placed
upon him for a ride by Mr. Jefferson himself. She recalled the
day when Mr. Jefferson was thrown from `Eagle's' back and
his wrist broken. She sat day after day and heard Mr. Jefferson
play the violin; one which he had made himself, and so
constructed that he could place it in his trunk when he traveled;
and she recounted his efforts at carpentering. Visitors
overran them at Monticello. She pictured to me a delightful
old man whose chief aim was to make everybody about him
happy. Never a harsh word, never a growl—patience and forbearance
instead. Of course, she never knew how great her
grandfather was until after his death, and even then recalling
his mildness she would for herself wonderingly measure the
grandeur of his acts. The simplicity of his character, in his
later life, seemed to preclude greatness—and she used to say
`and he wrote the Declaration of Independence.' And then
her description of his death. Of the long days of patient waiting;
of his calling the members of his household to him and
saying good-bye to each; of the awful grief of her mother, and
of the vast assemblage of citizens who came to lay him away.
`I peeped over the gallery in the hall at Monticello (women
and small children did not then go to the grave at funerals in

University—Serpentine Walls

(Connecting West Lawn and West Range)

Virginia) as I heard the men coming in to carry my poor old
grandfather out, and then I saw the bearers lift him, and as
they went through the doorway it seemed that my heart and
life and the sunlight went with them. As they disappeared I
fancied I could hear his sweet voice of but three days before
(I was the last person who spoke to him) as I said, "Good
morning, grandfather, do you know me?" and as he moved his
hand a bit I thought he said, "Yes, dear." And now, after
more than fifty years, when I recall that hot July morning in
1826, and think I see that tall pure figure waiting for the touch
of the angel, I can still hear faintly those sweet words, "Yes,
dear." ' "