Can any organization of government secure public and private liberty without a general or universal freedom, without license, or licentiousness of thinking, speaking, and writing. Have the French such freedom? Will their religion, or policy, allow it?
When I think of liberty, and a free government, in an ancient, opulent, populous, and commercial empire, I fear I shall always recollect a fable of Plato.
Love is a son of the god of riches, and the goddess of poverty. He inherits from his father the intrepidity of his courage, the enthusiasm of his thoughts, his generosity, his prodigality, his confidence in himself, the opinion of his own merit, the impatience to have always the preference; but he derives from his mother that indigence which makes him always a beggar; that importunity with which he demands everything; that timidity which sometimes hinders him from daring to ask anything; that disposition which he has to servitude, and that dread of being despised, which he can never overcome.
Such is Love according to Plato. Who calls him a demon? And such is liberty in France, and England, and all other great, rich, old, corrupted commercial nations. The opposite qualities of the father and mother are perpetually tearing to pieces himself and his friends as well as his enemies.
Mr. Monroe has got the universal character among all our common people of "A very smart man." And verily I am of the same mind. I know not another who could have executed so great a plan so cleverly.
I wish him the same happy success through his whole administration.
I am, Sir, with respect and friendship, yours,
J. A.
TO THE HONORABLE JOHN Q. ADAMS.
Monticello, November 1, 1817.