To Rev. Isaac Story.
The laws of nature have withheld from us the meaning of physical knowledge of the country of spirits, and revelation has, for reasons unknown to us, chosen to leave us in darkness as we were. When I was young, I was fond of speculations which seemed to promise some insight into that hidden country; but observing at length that they left me in the same ignorance in which they had found me, I have for many years ceased to read or think concerning them, and have reposed my head on that pillow of ignorance which a benevolent Creator has made so soft for us, knowing how much we should be forced to use it. I have thought it better, by nourishing the good passions and controlling the bad, to merit an inheritance in a state of being of which I can know so little, and to trust for the future to Him who has been so good for the past.
A week or two later he wrote to John Dickinson: "The approbation of my ancient friends is, above all things, the most grateful to my heart. They know for what objects we relinquished the delights of domestic society, tranquillity, and science, and committed ourselves to the ocean of revolution, to wear out the only life God has given us here in scenes the benefits of which will accrue only to those who follow us."
Early in the ensuing year he received a letter from his old friend Mrs. Cosway, who writes:
From Mrs. Cosway.
Have we no hopes of ever seeing you in Paris? Would it not be a rest to you after your laborious situation? I often see the only friend remaining of our set, Madame de Corny, the same in her own amiable qualities, but very different in her situation, but she supports it very well.
I am come to this place in its best time, for the profusion of fine things is beyond description, and not possible to conceive. It is so changed in every respect that you would not think it the same country or people. Shall this letter be fortunate enough to get to your hands? Will it be still more fortunate in procuring me an answer? I leave you to reflect on the happiness you will afford your ever affectionate and sincere friend.
To Mary Jefferson Eppes.
Washington, Mar. 3d, 1802.
My very dear Maria—I observed to you some time ago that, during the session of Congress, I should be able to write to you but seldom; and so it has turned out. Yours of Jan. 24 I received in due time, after which Mr. Eppes's letter of Feb. 1 and 2 confirmed to me the news, always welcome, of yours and Francis's health. Since this I have no news of you. I see with great concern that I am not to have the pleasure of meeting you in Albemarle in the spring. I had entertained the hope Mr. Eppes and yourself would have passed the summer there, and, being there, that the two families should have come together on a visit here. I observe your reluctance at the idea of that visit, but for your own happiness must advise you to get the better of it. I think I discover in you a willingness to withdraw from society more than is prudent. I am convinced our own happiness requires that we should continue to mix with the world, and to keep pace with it as it goes; and that every person who retires from free communication with it is severely punished afterwards by the state of mind into which he gets, and which can only be prevented by feeding our sociable principles. I can speak from experience on this subject. From 1793 to 1797 I remained closely at home, saw none but those who came there, and at length became very sensible of the ill effect it had on my own mind, and of its direct and irresistible tendency to render me unfit for society and uneasy when necessarily engaged in it. I felt enough of the effect of withdrawing from the world then to see that it led to an anti-social and misanthropic state of mind, which severely punishes him who gives in to it; and it will be a lesson I never shall forget as to myself. I am certain you would be pleased with the state of society here, and that after the first moments you would feel happy in having made the experiment. I take for granted your sister will come immediately after my spring visit to Monticello, and I should have thought it agreeable to both that your first visit should be made together....
TH. JEFFERSON.
Mr. Jefferson made his spring visit to Monticello, and returned to Washington before the first of June. The following chatty and affectionate letters to his daughter, Mrs. Eppes, were written after this visit home. The frequent and touching expressions of anxiety about her health found in them show its delicate condition.
To Mary Jefferson Eppes.—[Extract.]