nov. 15, 1811 (fri.)

In October, Melatiah Nash, a teacher, librarian, and grocer in New York, wrote concerning a book he is writing, to be called The Columbian Ephemeris and Astronomical Diary. The work is to be a sort of combination of a common and a nautical almanac, as well as a simple introductory textbook of astronomy.

This morning Mr. Jefferson replied, giving his encouragement and some advice, including a method by which readers in places other than where the book is published can calculate their own local time of sunrise "with scarcely more trouble than taking it from an Almanac" --

"add the Log. tangent of the [sun's] declination:

taking 10, from the Index, the remainder is the Sine of an arch which, turned into time and added to VI. Hours

gives Sunrise for the Winter half

and Sunset for the Summer half of the year."

2011 note: There appears to be no free, publicly-accessible, online copy of The Columbian Ephemeris and Astronomical Diary, for the Year 1812, but several university libraries have a print copy.

may 5, 1811 (sun.)

"... [S]ober interest tells me I should leave off buying books," Mr. Jefferson wrote a few days ago in response to a friend suggesting another title to add to his library of thousands.

Yeah. Right. This has all the credibility of a drunkard swearing off rum.

Well, today's mail brought yet another offer, this time a subscription to the Edinburgh Encyclopedia. He has declined, graciously, citing a surfeit of encyclopedias on his shelves already.

He's being responsible. For now.

april 19, 1810 (thurs.)

What a mess. Last year, Mr. Jefferson prepaid for a copy of Philip Freneau's new book, Poems Written and Published During the American Revolutionary War. There was a mix-up, and Lydia Bailey, the printer, thought he'd ordered eleven copies. It's being worked out, but it shows that mail-order transactions can go awry even in the 19th century.

The other theme in the last couple of days has been food. They're running low on salad oil at Monticello -- "a necessity of life here." (They -- especially Mr. Jefferson -- do like salad around here.) So Mr. Jefferson has written to see if his grandson, Thomas Jefferson Randolph, can get some in Richmond. And he sent detailed instructions as to how to pack it so the bottles won't break.

Mr. Jefferson is very much interested in alternate crops and in trying a wide variety of foods. He's sent Henry Skipworth some millet seed, along with instructions on how to plant it and prepare it.-- "to be used at the table as homony, boiled or fried." He probably means as hominy grits, since the consistency is closer to that than to whole hominy. He says it takes two hours to cook. In the 21st century it usually takes about half an hour. Either the 19th century grain is a lot denser, or he likes it really mushy.

feb. 9, 1810 (fri.)

A couple of days ago a package came from Joseph Milligan, a bookseller in Georgetown Mr. Jefferson had done business with when he was living in Washington as President. It was The Parent's Assistant, by Maria Edgeworth -- not, as the title might suggest, a book on parenting, but rather, a two-volume collection of stories and plays for children. The grandchildren will really enjoy this book.

Mr. Jefferson doesn't believe it's good for children, especially girls, to read novels; idle romances waste time and spoil a girl with longing for a world of fantasy. But Mrs. Edgeworth's stories are an exception. They teach morals, and for that reason, are useful tools for education, in a lesser, but similar way as nonfiction works of history and moral philosophy do.