The following are extracts from two letters to Mrs. Randolph: _To Martha Jefferson Randolph._ Philadelphia, Jan. 23d, '99. The object of this letter, my very dear Martha, is merely to inform you I am well, and convey to you the expressions of my love. It will not be new to tell you your letters do not come as often as I could wish. This deprives me of the gleams of pleasure wanting to relieve the dreariness of this scene, where not one single occurrence is calculated to produce pleasing sensations. I hope you are all well, and that the little ones, even Ellen, talk of me sometimes.... Kiss all the little ones, and receive the tender and unmingled effusions of my love to yourself. Adieu. Philadelphia, Feb. 5th, '99. Jupiter, with my horses, must be at Fredericksburg on Tuesday evening, the 5th of March. I shall leave this place on the 1st or 2d. You will receive this the 14th instant. I am already light-hearted at the approach of my departure. Kiss my dear children for me. Inexpressible love to yourself, and the sincerest affection to Mr. Randolph. Adieu. _To Mary Jefferson Eppes._ Philadelphia, Feb. 7th, '99. Your letter, my dear Maria, of January 21st, was received two days ago. It was, as Ossian says, or would say, like the bright beams of the moon on the desolate heath. Environed here in scenes of constant torment, malice, and obloquy, worn down in a station where no effort to render service can avail any thing, I feel not that existence is a blessing, but when something recalls my mind to my family or farm. This was the effect of your letter; and its affectionate expressions kindled up all those feelings of love for you and our dear connections which now constitute the only real happiness of my life. I am now feeding on the idea of my departure for Monticello, which is but three weeks distant. The roads will then be so dreadful, that, as to visit you even by the direct route of Fredericksburg and Richmond would add one hundred miles to the length of my journey, I must defer it, in the hope that about the last of March, or first of April, I may be able to take a trip express to see you. The roads will then be fine; perhaps your sister may join in a flying trip, as it can only be for a few days. In the mean time, let me hear from you. Letters which leave Richmond after the 21st instant should be directed to me at Monticello. I suppose you to be now at Mont Blanco, and therefore do not charge you with the delivery of those sentiments of esteem which I always feel for the family at Eppington. I write to Mr. Eppes. Continue always to love me, and be assured that there is no object on earth so dear to my heart as your health and