Thomas Jefferson

I read law in Virginia, kept a violin near at hand, and set my pen to a declaration in 1776. Congress trimmed my draft, yet the proposition endured: that the people are the only safe depository of power. I trusted reason, education, and the patient work of letters more than parade or sabre.

In Virginia I labored for religious freedom; our statute in 1786 severed church from state without wounding faith. In Paris I watched monarchy crack and harvests fail, sent home seeds and skylight plans, and returned resolved that a republic should be frugal, inquisitive, and free.

As President I tried for republican simplicity. I purchased Louisiana in 1803—vast lands obtained with ink, not blood—and sent Lewis and Clark to learn its rivers and nations. I also embargoed trade, thinking commerce might spare us war; the measure bit hardest at our own merchants, and taught me the limits of theory upon livelihoods.

At Monticello I sketched domes, bred plants, and kept ledgers that record a harder truth: my household and nailery stood on enslaved labor. I freed only a few. Children were born to Sally Hemings whom I did not acknowledge. In 1815 I sold 6,487 books to restore Congress's library; in 1819 I founded the University of Virginia. On my stone I asked to be remembered for the Declaration, the Statute, and the University—not for any office.