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To Nathaniel Macon Monticello, January 12, 1819
DEAR SIR, -- The problem you had wished to propose to me was
one which I could not have solved; for I knew nothing of the facts.
I read no newspaper now but Ritchie's, and in that chiefly the
advertisements, for they contain the only truths to be relied on in a
newspaper. I feel a much greater interest in knowing what has passed
two or three thousand years ago, than in what is now passing. I read
nothing, therefore, but of the heroes of Troy, of the wars of
Lacedaemon and Athens, of Pompey and Caesar, and of Augustus too, the
Bonaparte and parricide scoundrel of that day. I have had, and still
have, such entire confidence in the late and present Presidents, that
I willingly put both soul and body into their pockets. While such
men as yourself and your worthy colleagues of the legislature, and
such characters as compose the executive administration, are watching
for us all, I slumber without fear, and review in my dreams the
visions of antiquity. There is, indeed, one evil which awakens me at
times, because it jostles me at every turn. It is that we have now
no measure of value. I am asked eighteen dollars for a yard of
broadcloth, which, when we had dollars, I used to get for eighteen
shillings; from this I can only understand that a dollar is now worth
but two inches of broadcloth, but broadcloth is no standard of
measure or value. I do not know, therefore, whereabouts I stand in
the scale of property, nor what to ask, or what to give for it. I
saw, indeed, the like machinery in action in the years '80 and '81,
and without dissatisfaction; because in wearing out, it was working
out our salvation. But I see nothing in this renewal of the game of
"Robin's alive" but a general demoralization of the nation, a
filching from industry its honest earnings, wherewith to build up
palaces, and raise gambling stock for swindlers and shavers, who are
to close too their career of piracies by fraudulent bankruptcies. My
dependence for a remedy, however, is with the wisdom which grows with
time and suffering. Whether the succeeding generation is to be more
virtuous than their predecessors, I cannot say; but I am sure they
will have more worldly wisdom, and enough, I hope, to know that
honesty is the first chapter in the book of wisdom.
I have made a great exertion to write you thus much; my antipathy to taking up a
pen being so intense that I have never given you a stronger proof,
than in the effort of writing a letter, how much I value you, and of
the superlative respect and friendship with which I salute you.
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