To Martha Jefferson.—[Extract.]
Paris, March 6th, 1786.
I need not tell you what pleasure it gives me to see you improve in every thing useful and agreeable. The more you learn the more I love you; and I rest the happiness of my life on seeing you beloved by all the world, which you will be sure to be, if to a good heart you join those accomplishments so peculiarly pleasing in your sex. Adieu, my dear child; lose no moment in improving your head, nor any opportunity of exercising your heart in benevolence.
The following letter to his sister proves him to have been as devoted and thoughtful a brother as father:
To Ann S. Jefferson.
London, April 22d, 1786.
My dear Nancy—Being called here for a short time, and finding that I could get some articles on terms here of which I thought you might be in want, I have purchased them for you. They are two pieces of linen, three gowns, and some ribbon. They are done up in paper, sealed, and packed in a trunk, in which I have put some other things for Colonel Nicholas Lewis. They will of course go to him, and he will contrive them to you. I heard from Patsy a few days ago; she was well. I left her in France, as my stay here was to be short. I hope my dear Polly is on her way to me. I desired you always to apply to Mr. Lewis for what you should want; but should you at any time wish any thing particular from France, write to me and I will send it to you. Doctor Currie can always forward your letters. Pray remember me to my sisters Carr and Bolling, to Mr. Bolling and their families, and be assured of the sincerity with which I am, my dear Nancy, your affectionate brother,
TH. JEFFERSON.
While in England, Jefferson visited many places of interest there, and kept a short journal, of which we give the heading, and from which we make one quotation:
Extract from Journal.
A Tour to some of the Gardens of England.
Memorandums made on a Tour to some of the Gardens in England, described by Whately in his Book on Gardening.
While his descriptions, in point of style, are models of perfect elegance and classical correctness, they are as remarkable for their exactness. I always walked over the gardens with his book in my hand, examined with attention the particular spots which he described, found them so justly characterized by him as to be easily recognized, and saw with wonder that his fine imagination had never been able to seduce him from the truth. My inquiries were directed chiefly to such practical things as might enable me to estimate the expense of making and maintaining a garden in that style. My journey was in the months of March and April, 1786. …
Blenheim.—Twenty-five hundred acres, of which two hundred is garden, one hundred and fifty water, twelve kitchen-garden, and the rest park. Two hundred people employed to keep it in order, and to make alterations and additions. About fifty of these employed in pleasure-grounds. The turf is mowed once in ten days. In summer, about two thousand fallow-deer in the park, and two or three thousand sheep. The palace of Henry II. was remaining till taken down by Sarah, widow of the first Duke of Marlborough. It was on a round spot levelled by art, near what is now water, and but a little above it. The island was a part of the high-road leading to the palace. Rosamond's Bower was near where now is a little grove, about two hundred yards from the palace. The well is near where the bower was. The water here is very beautiful and very grand. The cascade from the lake is a fine one; except this the garden has no great beauties. It is not laid out in fine lawns and woods, but the trees are scattered thinly over the ground, and every here and there small thickets of shrubs, in oval raised beds, cultivated, and flowers among the shrubs. The gravelled walks are broad; art appears too much. There are but a few seats in it, and nothing of architecture more dignified. There is no one striking position in it. There has been great addition to the length of the river since Whately wrote.
In a letter written, after his return to Paris, to his old friend, John Page, of Virginia, Mr. Jefferson speaks thus of England:
To John Page.
I returned but three or four days ago from a two months' trip to England. I traversed that country much, and must own both town and country fell short of my expectations. Comparing it with this, I have found a much greater proportion of barrens, a soil, in other parts, not naturally so good as this, not better cultivated, but better manured, and therefore more productive. This proceeds from the practice of long leases there, and short ones here. The laboring people are poorer here than in England. They pay about one half of their produce in rent, the English in general about one third. The gardening in that country is the article in which it excels all the earth. I mean their pleasure-gardening. This, indeed, went far beyond my ideas. The city of London, though handsomer than Paris, is not so handsome as Philadelphia. Their architecture is in the most wretched style I ever saw, not meaning to except America, where it is bad, nor even Virginia, where it is worse than any other part of America which I have seen. The mechanical arts in London are carried to a wonderful perfection.
His faithful little pocket account-book informs us that he paid, "for seeing house where Shakspeare was born, 1s.; seeing his tomb, 1s.; entertainment, 4s. 2d.; servants, 2s."
In the fall of this year Jefferson, on behalf of the State of Virginia, presented to the city authorities of Paris a bust of his distinguished friend, the Marquis de Lafayette, which was inaugurated with all due form and ceremony and placed in the Hôtel de Ville. A few months later he wrote the following letter:
To Mrs. Trist.
Dear Madam—I have duly received your friendly letter of July 24, and received it with great pleasure, as I do all those you do me the favor to write me. If I have been long in acknowledging the receipt, the last cause to which it should be ascribed would be want of inclination. Unable to converse with my friends in person, I am happy when I do it in black and white. The true cause of the delay has been an unlucky dislocation of my wrist, which has disabled me from writing three months. I only begin to write a little now, but with pain. I wish, while in Virginia, your curiosity had led you on to James River. At Richmond you would have seen your old friends, Mr. and Mrs. Randolph, and a little farther you would have become acquainted with my friend, Mrs. Eppes, whom you would have found among the most amiable women on earth. I doubt whether you would ever have got away from her. This trip would have made you better acquainted too with my lazy and hospitable countrymen, and you would have found that their character has some good traits mixed with some feeble ones. I often wish myself among them, as I am here burning the candle of life without present pleasure or future object. A dozen or twenty years ago this scene would have amused me; but I am past the age for changing habits. I take all the fault on myself, as it is impossible to be among a people who wish more to make one happy—a people of the very best character it is possible for one to have. We have no idea in America of the real French character; with some true samples we have had many false ones. …
Living from day to day, without a plan for four-and-twenty hours to come, I form no catalogue of impossible events. Laid up in port for life, as I thought myself at one time, I am thrown out to sea, and an unknown one to me. By so slender a thread do all our plans of life hang! My hand denies itself farther, every letter admonishing me, by a pain, that it is time to finish, but my heart would go on in expressing to you all its friendship. The happiest moments it knows are those in which it is pouring forth its affections to a few esteemed characters. I will pray you to write to me often. I wish to know that you enjoy health and that you are happy. Present me in the most friendly terms to your mother and brother, and be assured of the sincerity of the esteem with which I am, dear madam, your affectionate friend and humble servant,
TH. JEFFERSON.
Among the many pleasant friendships formed by Jefferson in Paris, there was none that he prized more than that of Mr. and Mrs. Cosway. Both were artists; but the husband was an Englishman, while the wife was born under the more genial skies of Italy. Possessing all that grace and beauty which seem to be the unfailing birthright of an Italian, she united to a bright and well-cultivated intellect great charms