The Correspondence of Thomas Jefferson
By Subject
RETIREMENT / DESIRE FOR
You have seen my name lately tacked to so much of eulogy and of
abuse, that I dare say you hardly thought it meant your old
acquaintance of '76. In truth, I did not know myself under the pens
either of my friends or foes. It is unfortunate for our peace, that
unmerited abuse wounds, while unmerited praise has not the power to
heal. These are hard wages for the services of all the active and
healthy years of one's life. I had retired after five and twenty years
of constant occupation in public affairs, and total abandonment of my
own. I retired much poorer than when I entered the public service, and
desired nothing but rest and oblivion. My name, however, was again
brought forward, without concert or expectation on my part; (on my
salvation I declare it). I do not as yet know the result, as a matter
of fact; for in my retired canton we have nothing later from
Philadelphia than of the second week of this month. Yet I have never
one moment doubted the result. I knew it was impossible Mr. Adams
should lose a vote north of the Delaware, and that the free and moral
agency of the South would furnish him an abundant supplement. On
principles of public respect I should not have refused; but I protest
before my God, that I shall, from the bottom of my heart, rejoice at
escaping. I know well that no man will ever bring out of that office
the reputation which carries him into it. The honeymoon would be as
short in that case as in any other, and its moments of ecstasy would
be ransomed by years of torment and hatred. I shall highly value,
indeed, the share which I may have had in the late vote, as an
evidence of the share I hold in the esteem of my countrymen. But in
this point of view, a few votes more or less will be little sensible,
and in every other, the minor will be preferred by me to the major
vote. I have no ambition to govern men; no passion which would lead me
to delight to ride in a storm.
Flumina amo, sylvasque, inglorius. My attachment to my home
has enabled me to make the calculation with rigor, perhaps with
partiality, to the issue which keeps me there. The newspapers will
permit me to plant my corn, peas, etc., in hills or drills as I please
(and my oranges, by-the-bye, when you send them), while our eastern
friend will be struggling with the storm which is gathering over us;
perhaps be shipwrecked in it. This is certainly not a moment to covet
the helm.
to Edward Rutledge, 27 December 1796
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