When Jefferson and the Republicans rallied to the Union and to the existing Federalist organization, the fabric of traditional American democracy was almost completely woven.  Thereafter the American people had only to wear it and keep it in repair.  The policy announced in Jefferson’s first Inaugural was in all important respects merely a policy of conservatism.  The American people were possessed of a set of political institutions, which deprived them of any legitimate grievances and supplied them with every reasonable opportunity; and their political duty was confined to the administration of these institutions in a faithful spirit and their preservation from harm.  The future contained only one serious danger.  Such liberties were always open to attack, and there would always be designing men whose interest it was to attack them.  The great political responsibility of the American democracy was to guard itself against such assaults; and should they succeed in this task they need have no further concern about their future.  Their political salvation was secure.  They had placed it, as it were, in a good sound bank.  It would be sure to draw interest provided the bank were conservatively managed—­that is, provided it were managed by loyal Republicans.  There was no room or need for any increase in the fund, because it already satisfied every reasonable purpose.  But it must not be diminished; and it must not be exposed to any risk of diminution by hazardous speculative investments.

During the next fifty years, the American democracy accepted almost literally this Jeffersonian tradition.  Until the question of slavery became acute, they ceased to think seriously about political problems.  The lawyers were preoccupied with certain important questions of constitutional interpretation, which had their political implications; but the purpose of these expositions of our fundamental law was the affirmation, the consolidation, and towards the end, the partial restriction of the existing Federalist organization.  In this as in other respects the Americans of the second and third generations were merely preserving what their fathers had wrought.  Their political institutions were good, in so far as they were not disturbed.  They might become bad, only in case they were perverted.  The way to guard against such perversion was, of course, to secure the election of righteous democrats.  From the traditional American point of view, it was far more important to get the safe candidates elected than it was to use the power so obtained for any useful political achievement.  In the hands of unsafe men,—­that is, one’s political opponents,—­the government might be perverted to dangerous uses, whereas in the hands of safe men, it could at best merely be preserved in safety.  Misgovernment was a greater danger than good government was a benefit, because good government, particularly on the part of Federal officials, consisted, apart from routine business, in letting things alone.  Thus the furious interest, which the good American took in getting himself and his associates elected, could be justified by reasons founded on the essential nature of the traditional political system.