they themselves would inevitably topple over. But while he recognized these facts, he did not proclaim them; nor did he make a futile effort to check the headlong rush. He had no notion of being run over by his own troops, or of making himself unpopular by displaying an untimely sagacity. Though he regretted to see a disaster precipitated, he well knew that its mischief would not exceed a temporary delay. When the disaster came, his precaution prevented it from involving him. As its effect passed over, the great mass of his party, remembering that he had not lost his head, trusted him more implicitly than ever; while the reckless members were obliged to respect his superior shrewdness, and felt grateful to him for having spared them public rebukes. He had pursued his usual and moderate course; he had shunned the easy mistake of cherishing dissensions or jealousies in his party; he had made no enemies; and especially he had shown that rare power of accurately appreciating the true, safe, and permanent volume of a popular movement which distinguishes him above all the statesmen of his generation.

But in spite of the strength of the French party among the people at large, and in spite of his own prudence, Jefferson's official position in the cabinet remained very unpleasant. A

man of his temper could find little comfort in unceasing antagonism with such a hard-hitting, untiring combatant as Hamilton. His occasional victories, far too few to satisfy him, were conquered by such incessant and desperate conflict as was most wearing and odious to him. From such a life he longed to escape, and few men have sought so earnestly to get into office as he sought to get out of it. So early as March 18, 1792, he writes to Short of an intention, which he describes as having been already expressed, to retire at the end of Washington's first term. September 9, 1792, in the famous anti-Hamilton letter to Washington, he repeats the remark, saying, “I look to that period with the longing of a wave-worn mariner, who has at length the land in view, and shall count the days and hours which still lie between me and it." He spoke more honestly than officials often do who hold such language, and it was with real reluctance that he consented to remain beyond this established bound. He was resolved, however, to make the delay as short as possible, and on July 31, 1793, he wrote to Washington that "the close of the present quarter seems to be a convenient period." But Washington's importunity almost took away his liberty of action, and absolutely compelled him to stay till the end of the year.

Then at last he escaped, and set out for Monticello with the joy of one freed from prison.

He was

Of course nothing which Jefferson could do at this juncture could escape censure. even blamed now for getting out of office as he had long been blamed for remaining in it. The same people who had been stigmatizing him as the chief of an opposition within the administration, obstinately retaining governmental office for the express purpose of thwarting the administration policy, now said that he ought not to have resigned until Hamilton also should find it convenient to resign. They declared that Washington was embarrassed by the necessity for rebuilding his cabinet piece-meal; that Hamilton still had some matters in his department to be completed, and Jefferson should have stayed till these were finished; that then the two rivals could properly go out together. Both charges were wholly unjust. Washington, fully cognizant of the condition of affairs in his cabinet, had exerted all the pressure which he decently could to retain Jefferson in office, which, indeed, apart from this consideration, Jefferson was not required to abandon by any obligation not equally binding upon Hamilton; for it was a fair struggle between the two. Nor was it better than ridiculous, to expect Jefferson to withhold his own resignation

for an indefinite period out of complaisance for the convenience of his chief personal and political enemy. How did he know that Hamilton would resign at all? He was not in Hamilton's confidence, and did not trust him, nor did he deem it desirable that Hamilton should remain in office at all. It was absurd to expect him to promote such remaining. If his own resignation put a pressure on Hamilton also to resign, it seemed so much the better. In a word, Jefferson's behavior was thoroughly proper, and the two charges brought against him by his accusers were so inconsistent with each other as to be mutually destructive.

CHAPTER XI.

IN RETREAT.

AT home on his plantations Jefferson was supremely happy. "The principles," he said, "on which I calculated the value of life are entirely in favor of my present course. I return to farming with an ardor which I scarcely knew in my youth, and which has got the better entirely of my love of study." He puts off answering his letters, "farmer-like, till a rainy day." He does not "take a single newspaper, nor read one a month," and he finds himself infinitely the happier for it." He indulges himself "on one political topic only, that is, in declaring to my countrymen the shameless corruption of a portion of the representatives to the first and second Congresses, and their implicit devotion to the Treasury."

66

But even without newspapers the farmer managed to keep his knowledge and his interest fresh in all matters of foreign and domestic politics. He saw with regret his "countrymen groaning under the insults of Great Britain." He hoped that the triumphs of the French