Yet one would be mistaken in believing that Jefferson felt against England any deep-seated animosity, and his resentment, however justifiable, did not last long after the close of hostilities. The fine friendly letters he wrote to Thomas Law and James Maury at the eve of the war were more than mere gestures. He had many friends in England, he was imbued with English philosophy, English ideas, English law and, if he detested the rulers and the régime, he always maintained the same sentimental and quite natural feelings of so many Americans for the mother country as a whole:

On the same day he wrote to the Secretary of State, James Monroe, about the proposed inscription to be engraved in a conspicuous place on the restored Capitol, and he had suggested that if any inscription was considered as necessary, it should simply state the bare facts, such as:

FOUNDED 1791. BURNT BY A BRITISH ARMY 1814. RESTORED BY CONGRESS 1817.

But a question of more importance was whether there should be any inscription at all. "The barbarism of the conflagration will immortalize that of the nation.... We have more reason to hate her than any nation in earth. But she is not now an object of hatred.... It is for the interest of all that she should be maintained nearly on a par with other members of the republic of nations."[508]

With regard to France, his correspondence with Du Pont de Nemours and Lafayette offers precious and significant testimony. Much as he loathed Bonaparte, he deplored the return of the Bourbons and the reactionary measures of the Restauration. His indignation ran high when he received

Writing to Albert Gallatin he indulged in a "poetical effusion" which shows how deeply his feelings were stirred:

When all was told, and it was realized that "the cannibals of Europe were going to eating one another again and the pugnacious humor of mankind seemed to be the law of his nature", the only course for the United States to follow was to keep out of the fray as much as possible and so to direct their policy as to give no pretext for the European powers to intervene in the New World.

Already, in 1812, Jefferson had formulated his views in the most unequivocal manner, when he wrote to Doctor John Crawford:

The progress of the revolt of the Spanish colonies was at first to strengthen him in the position he had already taken.

Jefferson received the news without any elation. For a long time he had known that the link between the Spanish and Portuguese colonies was growing weaker. He doubted very much, however, that the colonies were ready for self-government. There might have been some hope for Mexico, because of her proximity to the United States: "But the others, I fear," he wrote to Baron Alexander von Humboldt, "will end in military despotisms. The different castes of their inhabitants, their mutual hatred and jealousies, their profound ignorance and bigotry, will be played off by cunning leaders, and each be made the instrument of enslaving the others." The important point he made was in what followed, and Jefferson here indulged in one of his curious political prophecies, in which he so often hit the mark:

For the present the situation was entirely different—and as he had done during the Revolution with regard to France, he advocated prudence and slowness. It was one thing for the American colonies to engage in a war with the mother country in order to preserve the liberties they had hitherto enjoyed, and again it was another entirely different thing for people who had not the faintest experience of self-government to declare their independence and suddenly to sever all connections with the past. In addition he was fully aware that the new republics would be in no condition to fight off foreign aggressors and thus would become an easy prey for the unscrupulous and greedy nations of Europe. Unable to stand on their own feet, the most natural course for South America was to fall back on Spain. Jefferson did not visualize the "foris familiation" of the colonies without a sort of moral protectorate of the mother country: "if she extends to them her affection, her aid, her patronage in every court and country, it will weave a bond of union indissoluble by time."[513] At the time Jefferson did not go further, and as a matter of fact he long held that this would have been the best solution for South America. As late as January, 1821, he still maintained this opinion in a letter to John Adams:

This was the ideal solution, but "the question was not what we wish, but what is practicable." If consequently the new republics refused such a compromise, another alternative could be offered:

This is a capital passage for it contains in germ much more than the so-called Monroe Doctrine. What Jefferson had in mind at the time was evidently a society of nations, which the United States would have joined in order to guarantee the territorial integrity of the South American republics under a Spanish mandate. For Brazil alone he contemplated a real and immediate independence, for "Brazil is more populous, more wealthy, and as wise as Portugal."

But in Jefferson's mind this plan was only a temporary solution. He was firmly convinced that a time would necessarily come when all the American republics would be drawn together by their community of interests and institutions and coalescing in an American system, independent from and unconnected with that of Europe, would form a world by themselves:

Such, according to Jefferson, was to be the cardinal principle of American policies for all times to come; for, as he wrote to his friend Correa who had come back to the United States as Minister from Portugal:

On the other hand, it was not advisable for the United States to intervene directly in South America or to help the colonies to sever their bonds from the metropolis. There is little doubt that the Spanish colonies would never have thought of revolting if they had not had constantly before their eyes the example of their northern neighbors. Ill-conducted as they were, the revolutions of South America could trace their origin directly to the American revolution and the Declaration of Independence. It was so plain that Jefferson's French friends, Lafayette, Du Pont de Nemours, and Destutt de Tracy expected him to declare enthusiastically in favor of the South American republics and to use whatever influence he still had to bring about an open intervention of the United States in their favor. Their optimism only shows how little they knew their American friend and how little they understood his policy. To Destutt de Tracy he answered at the end of 1820:

This Jefferson pressed again even more tersely in a letter written to Monroe almost four years later. "We feel strongly for them, but our first care must be for ourselves."[519]

Surveying the whole situation from the "mountain-top" of Monticello, the philosopher wondered at times "whether all nations do not owe to one another a bold declaration of their sympathy with the one party and their detestation of the conduct of the other?" But he soon concluded: "Farther than this we are not bound to go; and indeed, for the sake of the world, we ought not to increase the jealousies or draw on ourselves the power of this formidable confederacy." After the treaty of Ghent, at the beginning of the "era of good feeling", the United States could reasonably count on a long period of peace; all their difficulties with Europe had been settled, and only one possible point of friction could be discovered. "Cuba alone seems at present to hold up a speck of war to us. Its possession by Great Britain would indeed be a great calamity to the United States; but such calamity could only be temporary, for in case of war on any account, Cuba would be naturally taken by the United States, or the island would give itself to us when able to do so."

Thus Jefferson, once again, reasserted the cardinal principle of his policy—the policy of the United States since the early days of the Union:

Thus, little by little, the famous doctrine took its final shape in the minds of both Jefferson and Monroe. Jefferson contributed to it its historical background, the weight of his experience and authority, and the long conversations he had with Monroe on the matter gave him an opportunity not only to get "his political compass rectified" but to map out for the President the course to follow. The often quoted letter written by Jefferson to Monroe on October 24, 1823, contained little more than what had passed between them when Monroe visited his estate in Virginia. It was simply a reaffirmation of the fundamental maxims of the Jeffersonian policies:—"never to entangle ourselves in the broils of Europe—never to suffer Europe to intermeddle with cis-Atlantic affairs."

After making a survey of all the circumstances, Jefferson could write in conclusion:

Finally, although the letters to be exchanged between the British and American governments did not properly constitute a treaty, Jefferson advised Monroe to lay the case before Congress at the first opportunity, since this doctrine might lead to war, "the declaration of which requires an act of Congress."

Whatever use has been made of the Monroe Doctrine and whether or not the "mandate" assumed by the United States has proved irksome to several South American republics, there is no doubt that it was not proclaimed without long hesitation and that its promoters did not take up this new responsibility with "un cœur léger." There is no doubt, either, that it was not considered as an instrument of imperialism. It was primarily the extension of the doctrine of self-protection already advanced by John Adams in 1776 and since then maintained by Washington and Jefferson himself. It was also a corollary of the theory of the balance of power which Jefferson always kept in mind. In this he was not only followed but urged on by all his liberal friends in Europe.

Jefferson himself was too respectful of self-government ever to think of interfering with the internal affairs of the new republics. On the other hand, he was too firmly convinced of the moral, intellectual and political superiority of his own country not to believe that a time would come when the contagion of liberty would extend to the near and remote neighbors of the United States. The unavoidable result of the Monroe Doctrine and the moral mandate of America would be ultimately to form a "Holy American Alliance" of the free peoples of the Western Hemisphere, to counterbalance the conspiracy of Kings and Lords "called the European Holy Alliance."

CHAPTER II

DEMOCRATIC AMERICA

Protected against foreign entanglements and having survived the convulsions that had shattered the old structures of Europe, America was at last free to pursue her development along her own lines. The philosopher of Monticello could sit back, take a more disinterested view of the situation and make a forecast of the future of his country. He could also advise, not only his immediate successors, but the generations to come and take up again the part of "counsellor" which had always suited him better than the part of the executive. He believed too much in the right of successive generations to determine their own form of government, to attempt to dictate in any way the course to follow. But he was none the less convinced that certain principles embodied in the Constitution had a permanent and universal value, and during the years at Monticello he formulated the gospel of American democracy.

As it finally emerged from the several crises that threatened its existence, the American Government was, if not the best possible government, at least the best government then on the surface of the earth. It was at the same time the hope and the model of all the nations of the world.

Some dangers, however, were threatening to disturb the equilibrium of the country. The most pressing was perhaps the extraordinary and unwholesome development of State and local banks, which suspended payment in great majority in September, 1814. The deluge of paper money and the depreciation of the currency became, for Jefferson, a real obsession and strengthened him in his abhorrence of commercialism. He did not cease to preach the necessity of curbing the fever of speculation that had accumulated ruins upon ruins and the return to more sound regulations of the banks. "Till then," he wrote to John Adams, "we must be content to return, quoad hoc, to the savage state, to recur to barter in the exchange of our property, for want of a stable, common measure of value, that now in use being less fixed than the beads and wampum of the Indians."[523]

His banking theories, however, had scarcely any influence upon his contemporaries, and even Gallatin was little impressed by them. But the evident danger of inflation turned his mind back to the days when he had fought the Hamiltonian system and gave him once more an opportunity to pass judgment upon his opponent of the old days:

From this and many other passages it might be surmised that Jefferson still held to the old antimercantile theories that had crystallized in his mind when he was in Europe. If this were true, the contradiction between his conduct as President and his personal convictions would be so obvious that his sincerity might be questioned. As a matter of fact, on this point as on many others, he had undergone a slow evolution. He was certainly sincere when, shortly after leaving office, he wrote to Governor John Jay in order to make his position clearer:

This can be taken as the final view of Jefferson on a subject on which he is often misquoted and misunderstood. That he was fully aware of the change that had taken place in his own mind can be seen in a declaration to Benjamin Austin, written in January, 1816. Between 1787 and that date, and even earlier, Jefferson had seen the light and realized that to discourage home manufactures was "to keep us in eternal vassalage to a foreign and unfriendly people." He had no patience with politicians who brought forth his old and now obsolete utterances to promote their unpatriotic designs:

Desirable as it was to promote the industrial development of the United States, it was no less desirable not to encourage it beyond a certain point. Jefferson saw quite clearly that, under existing conditions, a great industrial growth of the country would have as an unavoidable result the perpetuation of slavery in the South and the even more undesirable creation of a proletariat in the North. He had always held that slavery was a national sore and a shameful condition to be remedied as soon as conditions would permit. He was looking forward to the time when this could be done without bringing about an economic upheaval; but all hope would have to be abandoned if slavery were industrialized and if slave labor became more productive. As to the other danger of industrialism, it was no vague apprehension; one had only to consider England to see "the pauperism of the lowest class, the abject oppression of the laboring, and the luxury, the riot, the domination and the vicious happiness of the aristocracy." This being the "happiness of scientific England", he wrote to Thomas Cooper, "now let us see the American side of the medal":

Once more Jefferson appears as a true disciple and continuator of the Physiocrats and one might be tempted at first to agree entirely with Mr. Beard on this point. But this is only an appearance. To understand Jefferson's true meaning, it is necessary to turn to his unpublished correspondence with Du Pont de Nemours, and particularly to those letters written after Jefferson's retirement from public life.

The rapid industrialization of the United States had greatly alarmed the old Physiocrat. In his opinion there was a real danger lest the national character of the people be completely altered and the foundation of government deeply shaken. Considering the situation from the "economist's" point of view, Du Pont came to the conclusion that the development of home industries in America would necessarily bring about a permanent reduction in the Federal income, largely derived from import duties. The government could not be run without levying new taxes and the question was to determine what methods should be followed in the establishment of these new taxes. If the United States decided to resort to indirect taxation, that is to say, excise, the unavoidable result would be the creation of an army of new functionaries, as in France under the old régime, and the use of vexatory procedure for the enforcement of the new system. Furthermore, according to the theories of the Physiocrats, indirect taxation was an economic heresy, since it was a tax on labor, which is not a source but only a transformation of wealth. The same criticism applied a fortiori to the English income tax which constituted the worst possible form of taxation.

In the controversy which arose between Jefferson and his old friend, the Sage of Monticello again took a middle course. First of all, he refused to concede that the development of industries could ever change the fundamental characteristics of the United States. They were essentially an agricultural nation, and an agricultural nation they would remain, in spite of all predictions to the contrary. Furthermore, the question was not to determine theoretically what was the best possible form of taxation, but to find out what form the inhabitants of the country would most easily bear. That in itself was a big enough problem and could not be solved in the abstract, since, according to Jefferson: "In most of the middle and Southern States some land tax is now paid into the State treasury, and for this purpose the lands have been classed and valued and the tax assessed according to valuation. In these an excise is most odious. In the Eastern States, land taxes are odious, excises less unpopular."[528]

Finally, Jefferson pointed out that his friend had neglected several important factors, one of them being "the continuous growth in population of the United States, which for a long time would maintain the quantum of exports and imports at the present level at least." Consequently, for several generations, the Government would be able to support itself with a tax on importations, "the best agrarian law in fact, since the poor man in the country who uses nothing but what is made within his own farm or family, or within the United States, pays not a farthing of tax to the general government." With the characteristic optimism of the citizen of a young, strong and energetic country, Jefferson then added:

This point alone should suffice to differentiate Jefferson's system from physiocracy, since the Physiocrats had adopted as their motto the famous laissez faire laissez passer and were certainly in favor of free trade. How far from Du Pont Jefferson remained in other particulars may be gathered from his "Introduction" and notes to the "Political Economy" of Destutt de Tracy, the translation and publication of which he supervised and directed. In it he paid homage to the founders of the science of political economy, and particularly to Gournay, Le Trosne and Du Pont de Nemours, "the enlightened, philanthropic and venerable citizen, now of the United States." But he pointed out that the several principles they had discussed and established had not been able to prevail, "not on account of their correctness, but because not acceptable to the people whose will must be the supreme law. Taxation is, in fact, the most difficult function of the government, and that against which their citizens are most apt to be refractory. The general aim is, therefore, to adopt the mode most consonant with the circumstances and sentiments of the country."

This is Jefferson's final judgment on the Economists. Another confirmation of his lack of interest in principles and theories not susceptible of immediate application may be seen in it. In matters of government, the important question, after deciding what should be done, was to determine how much could be done under the circumstances, and if a particular piece of legislation was turned down by the public will or only reluctantly accepted, to bide one's time and wait for a more favorable occasion. Even when doubting the wisdom of a popular verdict, it was the duty of the public servant to do the public will. Thus in this correspondence are revealed the two sides of Jefferson's character, or to speak more exactly, the two parallel tracks in which his mind ran at different times.

At the bottom of his heart, he believed that many of the economic doctrines of Du Pont were fundamentally sound; but he also knew that the citizens of the United States were not ready to accept the truth of these principles, and he did not feel that, as an executive, he had the right to attempt to shape the destinies of his country according to his own preferences. Thus he laid himself open to the reproach of insincerity, or at least of inconsistency, for on many occasions one may find a flagrant contradiction between his public utterances and the private letters he wrote to his friends. For this reason, Du Pont de Nemours was never fully able to understand his American friend. This difference between the French theorician and the American statesman will appear even more clearly in the letters in which they exchanged views on democracy and discussed the conditions requisite for the establishment of a representative government.

Jefferson's opinion of the French people with regard to the form of government they should adopt had never varied since the earliest days of the Revolution. Every time he was consulted by his friends on the matter, he invariably answered that they could do no better than to follow as closely as possible the system of their neighbors and hereditary enemies, the British. This answer, which recurred periodically in his correspondence, was made particularly emphatic in 1801, when he again warned Lafayette that France was not ready to enjoy a truly republican government. He went on by categorically stating that what was good for America might be very harmful to another country and that even in America it was neither desirable nor possible to enforce at once all the provisions of the Constitution. Thus, in a few lines, he defined his policies more clearly than any historian has ever done; he analyzed that curious combination of unwavering principles and practical expediency so puzzling to those once called by Jefferson himself "the closet politicians."

Thirteen years later his opinion had not varied one iota. Reviewing the situation in France after the return of the Bourbons, he wrote to Du Pont de Nemours:

The same note reappears constantly in the letters written by Jefferson to his French friends, but a rapid survey of his correspondence with Du Pont de Nemours may serve to make his position even more definite.

When, in December, 1815, Du Pont was invited by "the republics of New Grenada, Carthagenes and Caracas" to give his views on the constitution they intended to adopt, he drew up a plan of government for the "Equinoctial republics" and sent it for approval to the Sage of Monticello. Faithful to the principles of the Physiocrats, he had divided the population into two classes: the real citizens or landowners and the "inhabitants", those who work for a salary, possess nothing but personal property, can go any day from one place to another, and make with their employers contracts which they can break at any time. These were entitled to protection, peaceful enjoyment of their personal property, free speech, freedom of religion, habeas corpus, and such natural rights, but Du Pont refused them any participation in the government; for only those who "owned the country" should have the right to decide how it was to be administered. To give the ballot to a floating population of industrial workers, unattached to the soil, who had nothing to sell except their labor, was "to brew a revolution, to pave the way for the Pisistrates, the Marius, the Caesars, who represent themselves as more democratic than they really are and than is just and reasonable, in order to become tyrants, to violate all rights, to substitute for law their arbitrary will, to offend morality and to debase humanity."[532]

This was a doctrine which Jefferson could not accept, for it was in direct contradiction to the tenets he had formulated early in his life and held to during all his career. Because he had read Locke, and more probably because he was trained as a lawyer, he opposed the contractual theory of society to this economic organization. He maintained that society was a compact, that all those who had become signatories to the compact were entitled to the same rights, and consequently should have the same privilege to share equally in the government, except, and this proviso was important, when they freely agreed to delegate part of their powers to elected magistrates and representatives.

This was the theory, the inalienable principle to be proclaimed in a bill of rights, the necessary preamble to any constitution. In practice, however, various limitations to universal suffrage were to be recognized. One could not even think of granting the ballot to minors, to emancipated slaves or to women. It did not follow either that, all citizens being endowed with the same rights, they were equally ready to exercise the same functions in the government. Men are created equal in rights but differ in intelligence, learning, clear-sightedness and general ability. In other words, there are some natural aristoi, and John Adams brought Jefferson to this admission without any difficulty. If this fact be accepted, the next step is to recognize that "that form of government is the best, which provided the most effectually for a pure selection of these natural aristoi into offices of the government." It was the good fortune of America that all her constitutions were so worded as "to leave the citizens the free election and separation of the aristoi from the pseudo-aristoi, of the wheat from the chaff. In general, they will elect the really good and wise. In some instances, wealth may corrupt, and birth blind; but not in a sufficient degree to endanger society."[533]

According to this theory, the real function of the people is not to participate directly in all governmental activities, but to select from among themselves the most qualified citizens and the best prepared to administer the country. In a letter to Doctor Walter Jones, who had sent him a paper on democracy, Jefferson made his position even more definite by establishing a very important distinction which gives more than any other statement his true idea of a progressive democracy—an ideal to be striven for, not a condition already reached: