Thomas Jefferson

" 'And so, Mr.——, you like my mill.'

" 'I do, sir, indeed, very much; it is certainly one of the greatest improvements in the construction of saw mills I ever witnessed.'

" 'You think the sails are so hung that it cannot fail to work?'

" 'Certainly; it must work, it cannot help it.'

" 'And there's always a wind upon that hill; if it does not come up one valley, it is sure to come up the other; and the hill is so high and steep that there is nothing to interrupt the full sweep of the wind, come which way it will. You think, then, on the whole, that the thing cannot fail of complete success?'

" 'I should think so, sir, but for one thing.'

" 'Ah! What's that?'

" 'I have been wondering in my own mind, how you are to get up your saw- logs.'

"Jefferson threw up his hands and eyes: 'I never thought of that!'

"The mill was abandoned, of course."

JEFFERSON AND THE JOCKEY.

"Jefferson's favorite exercise was riding. He was a judge of a horse, and rode a very good one.

"One day, during his presidential term, he was riding somewhere in the neighborhood of Washington, when there came up a cross road, a well-known jockey and dealer in horse-flesh, whose name we will call Jones.

"He did not know the President, but his professional eye was caught, in a moment, by the noble steed he rode.

"Coming up with an impudent boldness characteristic of the man, he accosted the rider, and forthwith began talking in the slang of his trade, about the horse, his points, his age, and his value, and expressed a readiness to 'swap' horses.

"Mr. Jefferson gave him brief replies, and civilly declined all offers of exchange.

"The fellow offered boot, and pressed and increased his bids, as the closer he looked at the stranger's steed, the better he liked him.

"All his offers were refused with a coolness that nettled him.

"He then became rude, but his vulgarity made as little impression as his money, for Jefferson had the most perfect command of his temper, and no man could put him in a passion.

"The jockey wanted him to show the animal's gait, and urged him to trot with him for a wager. But all in vain.

"At length, seeing that the stranger was no customer, and utterly impracticable, he raised his whip and struck Mr. Jefferson's horse across the flank, setting him off in a sudden gallop, which would have brought a less accomplished rider to the ground.

"At the same time he put spurs to his own beast, hoping for a race. Jefferson kept his seat, reined in his restive steed, and put an equally effective rein upon his own temper.

"The jockey wondered; but impudently turned it off with a laugh, and still keeping by the side of his new acquaintance, began talking politics. Being a staunch Federalist, he commenced to launch out against 'Long Tom,' and the policy of his administration.

"Jefferson took his part in the conversation, and urged some things in reply.

"Meanwhile they had ridden into the city, and were making their way along Pennsylvania avenue. At length they came opposite the gate of the presidential mansion.

"Here Mr. Jefferson reined up, and courteously invited the man to enter.

"The jockey raised his eye-brows, and asked—

" 'Why, do you live here?'

" 'Yes,' was the simple reply.

" 'Why, stranger, what the deuce might be your name?'

" 'My name is Thomas Jefferson.'

"Even the jockey's brass turned pale—when, putting spurs to his nag, he exclaimed—

" 'And my name is Richard Jones, and I'm ok!'

"Saying which, he dashed up the avenue at double quick time, while the President looked after him with a smile, and then rode into the gate."

JEFFERSON AND PATRICK HENRY.

Patrick Henry was an early friend and companion of Jefferson. He was a jovial young fellow noted for mimicry, practical jokes, fiddling and dancing. Jefferson's holidays were sometimes spent with Henry, and the two together would go off on hunting excursions of which each was passionately fond. Both were swift of foot and sound of wind.

Deer, turkey, foxes and other game were eagerly pursued. Jefferson looked upon Patrick Henry as the moving spirit of all the fun of the younger circle, and had not the faintest idea of the wonderful talents that lay latent in his companion's mind.

And, Henry too, did not see in the slender, freckled, sandy-haired Jefferson, the coming man who was to be united with him in some of the most stirring and important events in American history.

Jefferson did not realize that this rustic youngster, careless of dress, and apparently thoughtless in manner, and sometimes, to all appearance, so unconcerned that he was taken by some to be an idiot, was to be the flaming tongue of a coming Revolution. Henry did not dream that this fiddling boy, Jefferson, was to be the potent pen of a Declaration which was to emancipate a hemisphere.

One day in 1760, just after Jefferson had entered upon his college studies at Williamsburg, Henry came to his room to tell him, that since their parting of a few months before, after the Christmas holidays, he had studied law, and had come to Williamsburg to get a license to practice. The fact was he had studied law but six weeks, and yet felt himself able to pass the examination. The examination was conducted by four examiners. Three of them signed the license. The fourth, George Wythe, refused his signature. But Henry was now duly admitted to the bar. He went back, however, to assist his father-in-law, Mr. Shelton, in tending his tavern, and for four years, practicing occasionally, he waited his time.

In May, 1765, Henry was elected to the House of Burgesses which met at Williamsburg. While in attendance as a member Henry was the guest of young Jefferson. Henry presented a rustic appearance. His dress was coarse and worn. His fame had not become fully known at Williamsburg, "and he moved about the streets unrecognized though not unmarked. The very oddity of his appearance provoked comment."

In the Assembly were some of the most brilliant and distinguished men in the Colony. Among them were Peyton Randolph, George Wythe, John Robinson, Richard Henry Lee, and Edmund Pendleton.

Dignified manners prevailed among the members. An elaborate and formal courtesy characterized them in their proceedings. They were polished and aristocratic men, not specially interested in the welfare of the common people. They were strongly desirous of perpetuating the class distinctions observed in Virginia society. A very marked contrast was apparent between them and the tall, gaunt, coarse-attired, unpolished member from Louisa.

Not being personally known to the majority of the House, little notice was taken of him, and no expectaions of any particular influence to be exercised by him upon its deliberations were expected. When the news of the passage of the Stamp Act reached the assembly, amazement and indignation were felt by the Royalist leaders, at the folly of the English ministry. But there seemed no way before them but submission to the Imperial decree. But Henry saw that the hour had come for meeting the issue between the King and the Colonies.

He rose in his seat and offered his famous Five Resolutions, which in substance declared that Englishmen living in America had all the rights of Englishmen living in England, and that all attempts to impose taxes upon them without the consent of their own representatives, had "a manifest tendency to destroy British as well as American freedom."

These resolutions provoked an animated and exciting debate. There is a strong probability that Jefferson knew the intentions of Henry, for he was present on that ever memorable occasion in the House.

No provision was made in the Assembly chamber for spectators. There was no gallery from which they could look down upon the contestants. In the doorway between the lobby and the chamber Jefferson took his stand, intently watching Henry's attitude and actions.

In a hesitating way, stammering in his utterances, he began reading his Resolutions. Then followed the opening sentences of the magnificent oration of this "Demosthenes of the woods," as Byron termed him.

No promise did they give of what was to follow. Very soon the transformation came. Jefferson saw him draw himself to his full height and sweep with a conqueror's gaze the entire audience before and about him.

No impediment now; no inarticulate utterances now. With a voice rich and full, and musical, he poured out his impassioned plea for the liberties of the people. Then soaring to one of his boldest flights, he cried out in electric tones:

"Caesar had his Brutus, Charles the First his Cromwell, and George the Third -----." The Speaker sprang to his feet, crying, "Treason! treason!" The whole assembly was in an uproar, shouting with the Speaker, "Treason! treason!" Not only the royalists, but others who were thoroughly alarmed by the orator's audacious words, joined in the cry. But never for a moment did Henry flinch. Fixing his eye upon the Speaker, and throwing his arm forward from his dilating form, as though to hurl the words with the power of a thunderbolt, he added in a tone none but he himself could command, "May profit by their example." Then, with a defiant look around the room, he said, "If this be treason, make the most of it."

Fifty-nine years afterwards Jefferson continued to speak of that great occasion with unabated enthusiasm. He narrated anew the stirring scenes when the shouts of; "treason, treason," echoed through the Hall.

In his record of the debate which followed the speech of Henry he described it as "most bloody." The arguments against the resolutions, he said were swept away by the "torrents of sublime eloquence" from the lips of Patrick Henry. With breathless interest, Jefferson, standing in the doorway, watched the taking of the vote on the last resolution. It was upon this resolution that the battle had been waged the hottest. It was carried by a majority of a single vote. When the result was announced, Peyton Randolph, the King's Attorney General, brushed by Jefferson, in going out of the House, exclaiming bitterly with an oath as he went, "I would have given five hundred guineas for a single vote."

The next day, in the absence of the mighty orator, the timid Assembly expunged the fifth resolution and modified the others. The Governor, however, dissolved the House for daring to pass at all the resolutions. But he could not dissolve the spirit of Henry nor the magical effect of the resolutions which had been offered. By his intrepid action Henry took the leadership of the Assembly out of the hands which hitherto had controlled it.

The resolutions as originally passed were sent to Philadelphia. There they were printed, and from that center of energetic action were widely circulated throughout the Colonies. The heart of Samuel Adams and the Boston patriots were filled with an unspeakable joy as they read them. The drooping spirits of the people were revived and the doom of the Stamp Act was sealed.

WASHINGTON AND JEFFERSON.

Dr. James Schouler says: "That Jefferson did not enter into the rhapsodies of his times which magnified the first President into a demigod infallible, is very certain; and that, sincerely or insincerely, he had written from his distant retreat to private friends in Congress with less veneration for Washington's good judgment on some points of policy than for his personal virtues and honesty, is susceptible of proof by more positive testimony than the once celebrated Mazzei letter. Yet we should do Jefferson the justice to add that political differences of opinion never blinded him to the transcendent qualities of Washington's character, which he had known long and intimately enough to appreciate with its possible limitations, which is the best appreciation of all. Of many contemporary tributes which were evoked at the close of the last century by that great hero's death, none bears reading so well in the light of another hundred years as that which Jefferson penned modestly in his private correspondence."

INFLUENCE OF PROF. SMALL ON JEFFERSON.

Speaking of the influence exerted over him by Dr. William Small, Professor of Mathematics at William and Mary College, who supplied the place of a father, and was at once "guide, philosopher and friend," Jefferson said: "It was Dr. Small's instruction and intercourse that probably fixed the destinies of my life."

JEFFERSON AND THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA.

In the epitaph of Jefferson, written by himself, there is no mention of his having been Governor of Virginia, Plenipotentiary to France, Secretary of State, Vice President and President of the United States. But the inscription does mention that he was the "Author of the Declaration of American Independence; of the Statute of Virginia for Religious Freedom; and Father of the University of Virginia."

These were the three things which, in his own opinion, constituted his most enduring title to fame. and it is to be observed that freedom was the fruit of all three. By the first he contributed to the emancipation of the American colonies from British rule; by the second he broke the chains of sectarian bigotry that had fettered his native State; and by the third he gave that State and her sisters the chance to strike the shackles of ignorance from the minds of their sons.

Free Government, free faith, free thought—these were the treasures which Thomas Jefferson bequeathed to his country and his State; and who, it may well be asked, has ever left a nobler legacy to mankind?

His was a mind that thrilled with that active, aggressive and innovating spirit which has done so much to jostle men out of their accustomed grooves and make them think for themselves.

No one appreciated more than he the fact that the light of experience, as revealed in the history of the race, should be the guide of mankind. But, for that very reason, he did not slavishly worship the past, well knowing that history points not only to the wisdom of sages and the virtues of saints, but also to the villainy of knaves and the stupidity of fools.

The condition of life is change; the cessation of change is death. History is movement, not stagnation; and Jefferson emphatically believed in progress.

The fact that a dogma in politics, theology or educational theory had been accepted by his ancestors did not make it necessarily true in his eyes. "Let well enough alone" was no maxim of his. Onward and upward was ever his aim.

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