ington. She never made but two visits there; one with her sister, the second year of his first term, and this last one in the winter of 1805–6, after her sister's death. Means of travel were not so rapid or pleasant as now, and the laborious and extremely tedious undertaking of traveling so far in a carriage was sufficient to dampen the desire of living for a few alternate months with her father. The unhealthy condition of Washington at that time, its low and marshy condition, engendering disease, rendered it absolutely necessary for those unacclimated to be out of its limits during the hot months of summer. The increasing cares of children and the duties of Virginia matrons also deterred Mrs. Randolph from becoming, as we must only regret she did not, permanently located in the President's House.
Her memory is so fragrant with the perfume of purity and saintly sweetness, that it is a privilege to dwell and muse upon a theme so elevating. The world has not yet developed a more harmonious, refined or superior type of womanhood than the daughters of Virginia in the last century. Reared in ease and plenty, taught the virtues that ennoble, and valuing their good name no less than prizing their family lineage, they were the most delightful specimens of womanhood ever extant. Most particularly was Martha Jefferson of this class, whose image is fast losing originality in the modern system of utilitarian education. Her father's and her husband's, great enemy pronounced her "the sweetest woman in Virginia;" and the assurance comes laden with the tes-
