tions resides in our ranks!' Jefferson is also
entitled to the credit of naturalizing in the United States the phrases
of the French Revolution: virtue of the people; reason of the people;
natural rights of man, etc.--that Babylonish dialect, as John Adams
called it, which in France meant something, but in this country was
mere cant. Jefferson knew that here all were people, and that no set of
men, whether because of riches or of poverty, had the right to arrogate
to themselves this distinction. But he also knew that in Europe this
distinction did exist, and that the emigrants who were coming in such
numbers all belonged to the lower class, there called people. Of course
these flattering phrases would win their ears and their votes for the
people's ticket, against an imaginary aristocracy. Thus might be secured
an army of obedient voters, knowing nothing but their orders, and
thinking of nothing but the pleasing idea that they were the rulers.

These useful inventions are enough to immortalize any man. His theory,
that the rich only should be taxed, as an indirect form of agrarianism,
ought not to be forgotten, for we see it daily carried out; and his
darling doctrine, that no generation can bind its successors, will come
to light again and life whenever a party may think the repudiation of
our war debt likely to be a popular measure. Indeed, there is scarcely a
form of disorganization and of disorder which Jefferson does not extract
from some elementary principle or natural right. We do not mean to
accuse him of doing wrong deliberately. Jefferson was an optimist. All
was for the best--at least, all that he did; for he was naturally
predisposed to object to any measure which did not originate with
himself or had not been submitted to his judgment. His elementary
principles were always at his call. They were based upon reason: how
could they be wrong? His mind grasped quickly all upon the surface that
suited his purpose; deeper he did not care to go. In deciding whether
any political doctrine was consistent or inconsistent with natural
reason, he generally judged of it by his reason--and this varied with
his position, his interest, his feelings. He probably was not aware of
the extent of his mutations; his mind was fixed on the results to be
obtained--always the same: the gratification of his wishes. His was a
Vicar-of-Bray kind of logic. The ultimate results of his dealings, as
affecting others and the nation at large,