Life of Thomas Jefferson

33. Retirement from Public Office

Mr. Jefferson had long contemplated the approach of the happy day that was to relieve him from the "distressing burthen of power" and restore him to the enjoyment of his family, his books, and his farm. Soon after the commencement of his second term, he had requested his fellow citizens to think of a successor for him, to whom, he declared, "he should deliver the public concerns with greater joy than he received them." Mr. Madison was evidently his first choice, Mr. Monroe his second; but as the public sentiment appeared at first to show some symptoms of vacillation between them, he abstained from any agency in deciding its final direction, not only from a principle of duty, but from a desire to carry into his retirement the equal cordiality of those whom he fondly characterized as "two principal pillars" of his happiness. His wishes were successively ratified by the nation in its successive choices, and their respective administrations, particularly that of Mr. Madison, were so conformable to his own in principle and in spirit that they seemed but a continuation of power in the same hands. When a distinguished French citizen who had visited our country under the sway of this policy returned to France, one of the first questions which Bonaparte asked him was, "What kind of a government is that of the United States?" To which he replied, "It is one, Sir, which you can neither feel nor see." The First Consul asked no more questions, feeling that such a panegyric on this government was the severest satire on his own.

The voice of the nation was strong and importunate for a re-election of Mr. Jefferson, but he rejected the allurement in inflexible adherence to a principle which he wished to become as inviolable as if incorporated into the Constitution. Not only principle, but the strongest of inclinations dictated to him such a course. If there was any one sentiment, next to love of country, that was now uppermost in the breast of Mr. Jefferson, it was that of his familiar assertion, that he never felt so happy as when shifting power from his own shoulders upon those of another. The impatience with which he anticipated the appointed epoch and the satisfaction with which he saluted its arrival are expressed in various letters to his friends.

 
In the spring of 1809, Mr. Jefferson made his last retreat to the hermitage of Monticello. He retired from a forty years' possession of accumulative honors and from the summit of human popularity with a mind unshaken in its principles, with the same jealousy of power, the same love of equality and abhorrence of aristocracy, and the same unbounded confidence in the majority of the people. He was sixty-six years old. At the same age -- a singular coincidence -- have all the other chief magistrates in the early years of our republic retired from office -- Washington, Adams, Madison, Monroe -- except the younger Adams, who wanted but the ordinary term of service to complete the same number of years.

He was accompanied into retirement with the plaudits and benedictions of his grateful countrymen. Addresses upon addresses, public and private, by political assemblies, religious associations, and literary institutions were showered upon him, expressive of approbation of his conduct in the administration of the government and containing prayers for his future tranquillity and happiness. To the citizens of Washington who assembled to pay him a farewell tribute of their affection, he replied:

The inhabitants of his native county, Albermarle, were eager for the occasion to testify those emotions of gratitude and affection which they felt for their "illustrious neighbor and friend"; and to welcome him "to those sweets of retirement for which he had so often sighed." With this view, they formed the determination at a public meeting to receive him in a body at the extremity of the county and conduct him home. Fearful, however, lest the zeal of friendship might inflict a wound on his characteristic modesty, they previously submitted to him their intention. In reply, he expressed his wish that his "neighbors would not take so much trouble on his account." The idea was accordingly relinquished. But at a subsequent meeting of the inhabitants of the county, an address was unanimously adopted and ordered to be presented to him in which they added to the general congratulations of the nation their particular sentiments of respect in the most affecting terms. "As individuals," it concluded, "among whom you were raised and to whom you have at all times been dear, we again welcome your return to your native county, to the bosom of your family, and to the affections of those neighbors who have long known and have long revered you in private life. We assure you, sir, we are not insensible to the many sacrifices you have already made to the various stations which have been assigned you by your country; we have witnessed your disinterestedness; and while we feel the benefits of your past services, it would be more than ingratitude in us did we not use our best efforts to make your latter days as tranquil and as happy as your former have been bright and glorious."

To this address Mr. Jefferson returned the following answer:

Among the numerous testimonials of the public gratitude elicited on this occasion, the "Valedictory Address of the General Assembly of Virginia" is deservedly the most distinguished. It is too rich a document intrinsically and too proudly associated with the reputation of him whose merits it was intended to commemorate not to be presented here. It was agreed to by both houses on the 7th of February, 1809.

 
Thus terminated the political career of one who had been a principal agent of two revolutions and an eye-witness of a third; of one who, from his entrance into manhood, had continued the advocacy of principles which, first discarded, next endured, then embraced, had eventually swayed the destinies of his country through the perilous and successive convulsions of transformation from a monarchical to a free structure of government, and of deliverance from the fatal catastrophe of a counter-revolution in the last extremities of exhaustion, despair, and self-abandonment; who had lived to see the energies of those principles so extensively transfused into the very sycophants of the tyrants of the old world, temporal and spiritual, as that the earth was everywhere shaking under their feet; and who, at last, enjoyed the satisfaction of seeing his name become the synonym of political orthodoxy at home and the watch-word of the aspirants for its attainment in all parts of the civilized world.

Thus had he performed his distinguished course, and thus, full of years and covered with glory, he was ready as to all political affairs to utter his favorite invocation: Nunc dimittas, Domine-- "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace."

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