Everyone has read the story of how, on the day of his inauguration, he rode on horseback to the capitol, clad in studiously plain clothes and without attendants, tied his horse to the fence, and walked unannounced into the Senate chamber.  This careful avoidance of display marked his whole official career, running sometimes, indeed, into an ostentation of simplicity whose good taste might be questioned.  But of Jefferson’s entire sincerity there can be no doubt.  Inconsistent as he sometimes was—­as every man is—­his purposes and policies all tended steadily toward the betterment of humanity; and the great mass of the people who to this day revere his memory, “pay a just debt of gratitude to a friend who not only served them, as many have done, but who honored and respected them, as very few have done.”

Perhaps the greatest single act of his administration was the purchase from France of the vast territory known as Louisiana, which included the state now bearing that name, and the wide, untrodden, wilderness west of the Mississippi, paying for it the sum of fifteen million dollars—­a rate of a fraction of a cent an acre.  The purchase aroused the bitterest opposition, but Jefferson seems to have had a clearer vision than most men of what the future of America was to be.  He served for two terms, refusing a third nomination which he was besought to accept, and retiring to private life on March 4, 1809, after a nearly continuous public service of forty-four years.  The remainder of his life was spent quietly at his home at Monticello, where men flocked for a guidance which never failed them.  The cause to which his last years were devoted was characteristic of the man—­the establishment of a common school system in Virginia, and the founding of the University of Virginia, which still bears the imprint of his mind.

[Illustration:  Jefferson]

Jefferson is one of the few men whose portrait, as preserved for us, shows us the man as we imagine him to be.  No one can look at that lofty and noble countenance, with its calm and wide-set eyes, its firm yet tender mouth, its expression of complete serenity, without realizing that here was a man placed above the weakness and pettiness and meanness of the world, on a pinnacle of his own, strong in spirit, wise in judgment, and almost prophetic in vision.

The presidency descended, by an overwhelming majority, to one of Jefferson’s stanch friends and supporters, for whom he had paved the way—­James Madison, also a Virginian, who had been his secretary of state for eight years, and who was himself to serve two terms, during which the influence of the “Sage of Monticello” was paramount.  The great crisis which Madison had to face was the second war with England, a war brought on by British aggression on the high seas, and bitterly opposed, especially in New England.  The war, characterized by blunders on land and brilliant successes on the ocean, really resulted without victory to either side, and, indeed, was very nearly a defeat for America; but in the end, it enabled us to regain possession of the posts which England had persisted in occupying along the western boundary, and banished forever any fear that she might, at any time in the future, attempt to reassert her sovereignty over the United States.