aced at school in a
convent near Paris. Martha was captivated by the ceremonials of the
Romish Church, and wrote to her father asking that she might be
permitted to take the veil. It is easy to imagine the surprise with
which the worldly diplomatist read the epistle. He did not reply to it,
but soon made a visit to the Abbaye. He smiled kindly at the young
enthusiast, who came anxiously to meet him, told the girls that he had
come for them, and, without referring to Martha's letter, took them back
to Paris. The account-book shows that after this incident the young
ladies did not diminish their attention to the harpsichord, guitar, and
dancing-master.

Maria, who was married to John W. Eppes, died in 1804, leaving two
children. Martha, wife of Thomas M. Randolph, survived her father. She
was the mother of ten children. The Randolphs lived on Mr. Jefferson's
estate of Monticello, and after he retired from public life he found his
greatest pleasure in the society of the numerous family which surrounded
him,--a pleasure which increased with his years. Mr. Randall publishes
a few letters from some of Jefferson's grand-daughters, describing their
happy child-life at Monticello. Besides being noticeable for grace of
expression, these letters breathe a spirit of affection for Mr.
Jefferson which only the warmest affection on his part could have
elicited. The writers fondly relate every particular which illustrates
the habits and manners of the retired statesman; telling with what
kindness be reproved, with what heartiness he commended them; how the
children loved to follow him in his walks, to sit with him by the fire
during the winter twilight, or at the window in summer, listening to his
quaint stories; how he directed their sports, acted as judge when they
ran races in the garden, and gathered fruit for them, pulling down the
branches on which the ripest cherries hung. All speak of the pleasure it
gave him to anticipate their wishes by some unexpected gift. One says
that her Bible and Shakspeare came from him,--that he gave her her first
writing-desk, her first watch, her first Leghorn hat and silk dress.
Another tells how he saw her tear her dress, and in a few days brought a
new and more beautiful one to mend it, as he said,--that she had refused
to buy a guitar which she admired, because it was too expensive, and
that when she came to breakfast the next morning the guitar was waiting
for her. One of these ladies seems to