THE PRESIDENTS' GARDENS 149 



vegetables of all kinds were raised in it — "grapes, figs 

 and the greatest variety of fruits." 



But Jefferson, too, was deprived for long periods of 

 the fruits of his own growing, and the enjoyment of 

 his farm activities. His satisfaction at returning 

 home, after escaping at last from the position, which 

 had grown so irksome, of Secretary of State at the 

 end of 1793, knew no bounds. "I return to farming 

 with an ardor which I scarcely knew in my youth," he 

 said delightedly, "and which has got the better en- 

 tirely of my love of study." 



Broad lawns, fine trees, flowers and shrubbery of 

 rarity and beauty, and a great park reputed to be three 

 hundred acres in extent all about the house, which was 

 inclosed and protected and wherein no tree was ever 

 cut, but where roads and paths wound through, "all 

 around and over it," intersecting and furnishing the 

 most delightful walks and drives — these were the char- 

 acteristics of Monticello, rather than any limited gar- 

 den or gardens. Which is what we might know would 

 result from a nature and temperament such as Thomas 

 Jefferson's. His scorn of formality, and his levelling 

 democracy were accompanied by a most vivid imagina- 

 tion and a very positive dramatic instinct — both per- 

 haps, utterly unsuspected by their possessor. The 

 wildness and romantic forest solitude suited this ele- 

 ment in his nature perfectly, however — resulted in- 



