ritation produced by party and political zeal, and the tempestuous passions engendered by constant contentions in active business. He repeatedly decleared that "every care vanished the moment he entered under his own roof." To his friends also, the earliest as well as the latest, she was equally the theme of praise. Men of genius are seldom so fortunate in their partners; by nature an ideal race, they look perhaps for more perfections than commonly fall to the lot of humanity, and expecting to meet with angles, are sadly disappointed in finding mere women.

I'll leave you then and from the Bride's bright eye,

A happier omen take which cannot lie,

Of growing time, still growing in delight,

Of rounds of future years all mark'd with white,

Through whose bright circles, free from envious chance,
Concord and love shall lead an endless dance,

What is the monarch's crown, the shepherd's ease,
The hero's laurel, and the poet's bays?
A load of toilsome life too dull to hear,
If heaven's indulgence did not add the fair;
E'en Eden's sweets our Adam did dispise,
All his gay scenes could not delight his eyes,
Woman God gave, and then 'twas Paradise.

Another Eve and Paradise are thine,'
May'st thou be father of as long a line!
Your heart so fixed on her, and hers on you,
As if the world afforded but the two,

That to this age your constancy may prove,
There yet remains on earth a power call'd love."

In the autumn of 1782, he had the misfortune to lose his amiable and gentle companion, when the charge of two lovely daughters devolved on him alone.

Of these ladies one was married to John W. Eppes, who has since been so highly distinguished in public life:-Mrs. Eppes died leaving two children, one of whom yet survives-The other daughter is the amiable wife of Thomas M. Randolph, who has a són residing in the vicinity of Monticello, who smoothed with flowers, his grand-fathers decline to the tomb.

In this enlightened age, philosophy has investigated truth with great success, overtaken her in many of her evasions, and discovered her in almost every subterfuge. But there is one case, say the batchelors, in which she still eludes the strictest researches, and yet secures her retreat. Matrimony and celibacy, say they, even yet contend for the precedency. Truth lurks, philosophy is at her ne plus ultra, and her sons are yet divided on the subject.

The contest is serious for it extends to practise; we see some approaching the verge of life, unmarried; and children in their teens witnessing their sage approbation of hymen's bands by their venerable examples. The decision of this dispute, which involves in it the happiness of man, is of ultimate importance.

But let me apprise the batchelor, while he continues in his life of single blessedness, as he would

call it, without any object on which to place his affections, or to bestow his kindnesses, that his whole intellectual stock is egotism; his possessions, a large store of vanity; his education whither simple or compound is almost useless. They may murmur against the disagreeable formalities of introduction, the difficulties of acquaintance, and the tedium of courtship, which retard their matrimonial pursuit, but if they have not courage to stem the torrent manfully, they are altogether unworthy of a virtuous wife; for we always value men, not for their indolence and inactivity, but in proportion to their fortitude in encountering the evils of human life. If you have so much impudence as to avow your reluctance to involve yourselves in the cares the distresses, the hopes and fears, which are the inseparable attendants of genuine love, depend upon it, you will never obtain a wife who is worthy your acceptance. These proignant feelings are the grand preliminaries of permanent love; they are as essential to its growth, as rain is to vegitation; and if you have too much impatience or timidity to pass through this ordeal, you may never expect if you get a wife, to enjoy the exquisite endearments and supreme delight of souls that have previously demonstrated the ardency of their af fections.

In the more limited circles of private life, Mr. Jefferson commanded universal esteem and affec tion; as a neighbour he was kind and charitable. His sympathy extended in a certain degree to dis

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tress of every kind, but it was excited with the most force, and kindest effects, to the weakness, pain, and poverty of old age. As a friend he was sincere, ardent, and disinterested. As a companion he instructed on all subjects.

His family constituted his chief society, and the most intimate circles of his friends: although frequently visited by travellers, and persons of distinction from every part of the world. When the declining state of his health, rendered the solitude of his study, less agreeable than in former years, he passed his evenings in conversation with his daughters and grand children, or in reading some interesting books in the sciences or arts.

The house, and manner of living, of our President, exhibited the taste of a philosopher, the simplicity of a republican, and the temper, and dispo→ sition of a christian.

His economy extended to a wise and profitable use of his time. No man ever found him unemployed. As an apology for detaining a friend a few minutes, who had called upon him, while he arranged some papers he had been examining, he said, "that he had once thought health the greatest blessing in the world, but that he now thought there was one thing of greater value, and that was time."

Here I expected to have finished the detail of his virtues, but in the neighbourhood of that galaxy created by their connected lustre, I behold a virtue of enestimable value, twinkling, like a rare,

and solitary star. This is his superlative modesty. This heaven born virtue was so conspicuous in every part of his conduct, that he appeared not so much to conceal, as to be ignorant of his superiority as a philosopher and a man, over the greatest part of his fellow creatures.

Who can read his inaugural address as vice-president of the United States, without being fully convinced that he possessed this heavenly and divine attribute, in a superlative degree. After Mr. Adams had delivered his speech, as president, the oath was then administered to Mr. Jefferson, when he took the chair, and delivered the following address: Gentlemen of the Senate,

"Entering on the duties of the office to which I am called, I feel it incumbant on me to appologize to this honourable house for the insufficient manner in which I fear they may be discharged. At an earlier peried of my life, and through some considerable portion of it, I have been a member of legislative bodies, and not altogether inattentive to the forms of their procedings; but much time has elapsed since that, other duties have occupied my mind, and in a great degree it has lost its similarity with this subject. I fear that the house will have but to frequent occasion to perceive the truth of this acknowledgment. If a diligent attention, however, will enable me to fulfil the functions now assigned me, I may promise that diligence and attention shall be sedulously employed. For one portion of my duty I shall engage with more