Declaration Project

Editor’s note:  A week and a half before he died — on Independence Day in 1826 – in the last letter he ever penned, Thomas Jefferson expressed the wish that each fourth of July would serve as a “signal of arousing men to burst the chains under which monkish ignorance and superstition had persuaded them to bind themselves, and to assume the blessings and security of self-government.” To Jefferson, the ‘real independence day’ will arrive when cardinal constitutional law provides a framework for governance that “restores the free right to the unbounded exercise of reason and freedom of opinion.”  As he put it in his July 4th epistle, “the mass of mankind has not been born with saddles on their backs, nor a favored few, booted and spurred, ready to ride them legitimately for the Grace of God.” The American scene he most prized was one in which “(a)ll eyes are opened, or opening to the rights of man.” Despite being thwarted in his own lifetime in his efforts to create a true democracy, Jefferson remained sanguine about the longer-term prospects of realizing it: “A first attempt to recover the right of self-government may fail, so may a second, a third, etc. But as a younger and more instructed race comes on, the sentiment becomes more and more intuitive, and…some subsequent one of the ever renewed attempts will ultimately succeed. For what inheritance so valuable, can man leave to posterity?”

Here’s the full letter from Jefferson to Roger Chew Weightman,  the mayor of Washington, who’d sent invitations to the three surviving signers of the Declaration — Jefferson, 83; John Adams, 90; and Charles Carroll of Maryland, 88 — as well as former presidents James Madison and James Monroe, to attend 4th of July events.

Monticello June 24. 26

Respected Sir

The kind invitation I receive from you on the part of the citizens of the city of Washington, to be present with them at their celebration of the 50th. anniversary of American independance; as one of the surviving signers of an instrument pregnant with our own, and the fate of the world, is most flattering to myself, and heightened by the honorable accompaniment proposed for the comfort of such a journey. it adds sensibly to the sufferings of sickness, to be deprived by it of a personal participation in the rejoicings of that day. but acquiescence is a duty, under circumstances not placed among those we are permitted to controul. I should, indeed, with peculiar delight, have met and exchanged there congratulations personally with the small band, the remnant of that host of worthies, who joined with us on that day, in the bold and doubtful election we were to make for our country, between submission or the sword; and to have enjoyed with them the consolatory fact, that our fellow citizens, after half a century of experience and prosperity, continue to approve the choice we made. may it be to the world, what I believe it will be, (to some parts sooner, to others later, but finally to all,) the Signal of arousing men to burst the chains, under which monkish ignorance and superstition had persuaded them to bind themselves, and to assume the blessings & security of self-government. that form which we have substituted, restores the free right to the unbounded exercise of reason and freedom of opinion. all eyes are opened, or opening, to the rights of man. the general spread of the light of science has already laid open to every view. the palpable truth, that the mass of mankind has not been born with saddles on their backs, nor a favored few booted and spurred, ready to ride them legitimately, by the grace of god. these are grounds of hope for others. for ourselves, let the annual return of this day forever refresh our recollections of these rights, and an undiminished devotion to them.

I will ask permission here to express the pleasure with which I should have met my ancient neighbors of the City of Washington and of it’s vicinities, with whom I passed so many years of a pleasing social intercourse; an intercourse which so much relieved the anxieties of the public cares, and left impressions so deeply engraved in my affections, as never to be forgotten. with my regret that ill health forbids me the gratification of an acceptance, be pleased to receive for yourself, and those for whom you write, the assurance of my highest respect and friendly attachments.

Th. Jefferson