THE PRESIDENTS’ GARDENS 
H9 
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- 
