University of Virginia Library

TO THOMAS JEFFERSON.

Your letter of June 13th, came duly to hand. If it
had contained no other sentiments and opinions than
those which my letter of condolence could have excited,
and which are expressed in the first page of
your reply, our correspondence would have terminated
here. But you have been pleased to enter
upon some subjects which call for a reply; and as
you observe that you have wished for an opportunity
to express your sentiments, I have given them every
weight they claim.

"One act of Mr. Adams's life, and one only (you
repeat) ever gave me a moment's personal displeasure.
I did consider his last appointments to office as
personally unkind; they were from my most ardent
political enemies."

As this act, I am certain, was not intended to give
any personal pain or offence, I think it a duty to
explain it, so far as I then knew his views and
designs. The Constitution empowers the President
to fill up offices as they become vacant. It was in
the exercise of this power, that appointments were
made, and characters selected, whom Mr. Adams
considered as men faithful to the constitution, and
where he personally knew them, such as were capable
of fulfilling their duty to their country. This

was done equally by General Washington in the last
days of his administration, so that not an office
remained vacant for his successor to fill upon his
coming into office. No offence was given by it and
no personal unkindness thought of.

But the different political opinions, which have so
unhappily divided our country, must have given rise
to the idea that personal unkindness was intended.
You will please to recollect, Sir, that at the time
these appointments were made, there was not any
certainty that the Presidency would devolve upon
you, which is another circumstance to prove that no
personal unkindness was intended. No person, I
am sure, was ever selected from such a motive, and
so far was Mr. Adams from harboring such a sentiment,
that he had not any idea of the intolerance of
party spirit at that time. I know it was his opinion,
that if the Presidency devolved upon you, except in
the appointment of Secretaries, no material change
would be made. I perfectly agree with you in opinion
that those should be men in whom the President
can repose confidence, possessing opinions and sentiments
corresponding with his own; or if differing
with him, that they ought rather to resign their offices
than to cabal against measures which he may consider
essential to the honor, safety and peace of the country.
Neither ought they to unite with any bold and
daringly ambitious character to overrule the Cabinet
or to betray the secrets of it to friends or enemies.
The two gentlemen who held the offices of secretaries,
when you became President, were not of this

character. They were persons appointed by your
predecessor nearly two years previous to his retirement.
They had cordially coöperated with him, and
were gentlemen who enjoyed the public confidence.
Possessing, however, different political sentiments
from those which you were known to have embraced,
it was expected that they would, as they did, resign.

I have never felt any enmity towards you, Sir, for
being elected President of the United States. But
the instruments made use of and the means which
were practised to effect a change have my utter abhorrence
and detestation, for they were the blackest
calumny and the foulest falsehoods. I had witnessed
enough of the anxiety and solicitude, the envy,
jealousy and reproach attendant upon the office, as
well as the high responsibility of the station, to be
perfectly willing to see a transfer of it; and I can
truly say, that at the time of election, I considered
your pretensions much superior to his who shared an
equal vote with you. Your experience, I dare venture
to affirm, has convinced you, that it is not a
station to be envied. If you feel yourself a freeman,
and can conduct, in all cases, according to your own
sentiments, opinions and judgment, you can do more
than either of your predecessors could, and are
awfully responsible to God and your country for the
measures of your administration. I must rely upon
the friendship you still profess to entertain for me,
(and I am conscious I have done nothing to forfeit
it), to excuse the freedom of this discussion, to which
you have led with an unreserve, which has taken off

the shackles I should, otherwise, have found myself
embarrassed with. And now, Sir, I will freely disclose
to you what has severed the bonds of former
friendship, and placed you in a light very different
from what some viewed you in.

One of the first acts of your administration was to
liberate a wretch, who was suffering the just punishment
of his crimes for publishing the basest libel,
the lowest and vilest slander which malice could
invent or calumny exhibit, against the character and
reputation of your predecessor; of him, for whom
you professed a friendship and esteem, and whom
you certainly knew incapable of such complicated
baseness. The remission of Callender's fine was a
public approbation of his conduct. If abandoned
characters do not excite abhorrence, is not the last
restraint of vice, a sense of shame rendered abortive?
If the Chief Magistrate of a nation whose
elevated station places him in a conspicuous light
and renders his every action a concern of general
importance, permits his public conduct to be influenced
by private resentment, and so far forgets what
is due to his character as to give countenance to a
base calumniator, is he not answerable for the influence
which his example has upon the manners and
morals of the community?

Until I read Callender's seventh letter containing
your compliment to him as a writer and your reward
of fifty dollars, I could not be made to believe that
such measures could have been resorted to, to stab
the fair fame and upright intentions of one who, to

use your own language, "was acting from an honest
conviction in his own mind that he was right." This
Sir, I considered as a personal injury; this was the
sword that cut asunder the Gordian knot, which
could not be untied by all the efforts of party spirit,
by rivalry, by jealousy, or any other malignant fiend.

The serpent you cherished and warmed bit the
hand that nourished him and gave you sufficient
specimens of his talents, his gratitude, his justice and
his truth. When such vipers are let loose upon society,
all distinction between virtue and vice is levelled;
all respect for character is lost in the deluge of
calumny; that respect, which is a necessary bond in
the social union, which gives efficacy to laws, and
teaches the subject to obey the magistrate, and the
child to submit to the parent.

There is one other act of your administration
which I considered as personally unkind, and which
your own mind will easily suggest to you; but as it
neither affected character nor reputation, I forbear to
state it.

This letter is written in confidence. Faithful are
the wounds of a friend. Often have I wished to have
seen a different course pursued by you. I bear no
malice. I cherish no enmity. I would not retaliate
if it was in my power; nay more, in the true spirit of
Christian charity, I would forgive as I hope to be
forgiven. With that disposition of mind and heart, I
subscribe the name of