on the evening of the 23d of May, 1784, to bid him farewell ere he
should set out the next day on his long journey to Boston, from which
port he was to sail for France. As he stood on the north portico of
Monticello, awaiting his guests and looking long and lovingly at the
beautiful view of mountain and valley spread before him, he made a
striking, not easily forgotten, picture. The head, lightly thrown back,
with its wavy, sandy hair worn short, and the finely chiselled profile
were cameo-like in their classical regularity. The lithe, meagre form,
well dressed in blackcloth coat and knee breeches, white waistcoat and
ruffles of finest linen, black silk stockings and silver-buckled shoes,
was energetic, graceful, and well proportioned. With such a physique it
was not wonderful that Mr. Jefferson was famous as shot, horseman, and
athlete, even among such noted sportsmen as Virginia could boast of by
the score in the latter part of the eighteenth century. Suddenly he
lowered his head and, withdrawing his gaze from the mountains, looked
about him with an impatient little sigh.

"I am a savage! Savage enough to prefer the woods and streams and
independence of my Monticello to all the brilliant pleasures which Paris
will offer me. I could find it in my heart to wish that Congress had
never urged upon me this mission abroad. But I have always tried to
serve my country at my country's call, and I shall continue to serve
her, though it take me from home and family and friends. Instead of
repining at this exile to France--for how long I do not know--I should
be thankful for this last beautiful evening at Monticello and for the
friends who are come to bid me farewell. I wonder that the Marquis does
not arrive. I have much of importance to discuss with him."

Mr. Jefferson had no greater admirer than the Marquis de Lafayette,
whose arrival he so impatiently awaited. He had affairs of weight to