still buffeting the storm, with anxiety indeed, but not with envy.  Never did a prisoner, released from his chains, feel such relief as I shall on shaking off the shackles of power.  Nature intended me for the tranquil pursuits of science, by rendering them my supreme delight.  But the enormities of the times in which I have lived, have forced me to take a part in resisting them, and to commit myself on the boisterous ocean of political passions.  I thank God for the opportunity of retiring from them without censure, and carrying with me the most consoling proofs of public approbation.  I leave every thing in the hands of men so able to take care of them, that if we are destined to meet misfortunes, it will be because no human wisdom could avert them.  Should you return to the United States, perhaps your curiosity may lead you to visit the hermit of Monticello.  He will receive you with affection and delight; hailing you in the mean time with his affectionate salutations, and assurances of constant esteem and respect.

Th:  Jefferson.

P. S. If you return to us, bring a couple of pair of true-bred shepherd’s dogs.  You will add a valuable possession to a country now beginning to pay great attention to the raising sheep.

T.J.

LETTER LXXIX.—­TO THE PRESIDENT, March 17, 1809

TO THE PRESIDENT.

Monticello, March 17, 1809.

Dear Sir,

On opening my letters from France, in the moment of my departure from Washington, I found from their signatures that they were from literary characters, except one from Mr. Short, which mentioned in the outset that it was private, and that his public communications were in the letter to the Secretary of State, which I sent you.  I find, however, on reading his letter to me (which I did not do till I got home) a passage of some length, proper to be communicated to you, and which I have therefore extracted.

I had a very fatiguing journey, having found the roads excessively bad, although I have seen them worse.  The last three days I found it better to be on horseback, and travelled eight hours through as disagreeable a snow storm as I was ever in.  Feeling no inconvenience from the expedition but fatigue, I have more confidence in my vis vitae than I had before entertained.  The spring is remarkably backward.  No oats sown, not much tobacco seed, and little done in the gardens.  Wheat has suffered considerably.  No vegetation visible yet but the red maple, weeping-willow, and lilac.  Flour is said to be at eight dollars at Richmond, and all produce is hurrying down.