Though we have not heard of the actual opening of the new Congress, and consequently have not official information of your election as President of the United States, yet, as there never could be a doubt entertained of it, permit me to express here my felicitations, not to yourself, but to my country. Nobody who has tried both public and private life can doubt but that you were much happier on the banks of the Potomac than you will be at New York. But there was nobody so well qualified as yourself to put our new machine into a regular course of action--nobody, the authority of whose name could have so effectually crushed opposition at home and produced respect abroad. I am sensible of the immensity of the sacrifice on your part. Your measure of fame was full to the brim; and therefore you have nothing to gain. But there are cases wherein it is a duty to risk all against nothing, and I believe this was exactly the case. We may presume, too, according to every rule of probability, that, after doing a great deal of good, you will be found to have lost nothing but private repose. How anxiously Jefferson awaited the arrival of his leave of absence will be seen from the letter below, written by him to his sister-in-law: _To Mrs. Eppes._ Paris, Dec. 15th, 1788. Dear Madam--In my last, of July 12th, I told you that in my next I would enter into explanations about the time my daughters would have the happiness to see you. Their future welfare requires that this should be no longer postponed. It would have taken place a year sooner, but that I wished Polly to perfect herself in her French. I have asked leave of absence of Congress for five or six months of the next year, and if I obtain it in time I shall endeavor to sail about the middle of April. As my time must be passed principally at Monticello during the two months I destine for Virginia, I shall hope that you will come and encamp there with us a while. He who feedeth the sparrow must feed us also. Feasting we shall not expect, but this will not be our object. The society of our friends will sweeten all. Patsy has just recovered from an indisposition of some days. Polly has the same; it is a slight but continual fever, not sufficient, however, to confine her to her bed. This prevents me from being able to tell you that they are absolutely well. I inclose a letter which Polly wrote a month ago to her aunt Skipwith, and her sickness will apologize for her not writing to you or her cousins; she makes it up in love to you all, and Patsy equally, but this she will tell you herself, as she is writing to you. I hope you will find her an estimable friend as well as a dutiful niece. She inherits stature from her father,