Readers seem to have an endless fascination with Jefferson both as the architect and resident of Monticello, and a good deal of interesting and important work has appeared in this area. Such interest is hardly new, however, and Merrill D. Peterson has brought together an enlightening collection of first-hand accounts of Jefferson's visitors when he was at home at Monticello (#536). Some of these are familiar, some not, but taken together they form an album of American possibilities embodied in both host and guests. Another interesting look at Jefferson at home comes in the late Donald Jackson's A Year at Monticello: 1795 (#532) which gives a month by month account of his first full year back on the mountain after a decade in Paris and Washington. In addition to Jack McLaughlin's study noted in the previous paragraph, readers can profitably consult William Howard Adams's Jefferson's Monticello (#112), which brings together an informative text with handsome and revealing photographic illustrations. Frederick D. Nichols's (#346) and James A. Bear, Jr.'s (#302) essays in Thomas Jefferson: A Reference Biography (#294) give learned overviews of Jefferson's architectural work, including Monticello, and of his life there. One very useful source can apparently be somewhat difficult to find; the annual Report of the Curator to the Board of Trustees of The Thomas Jefferson Memorial Foundation typically contains information on work and research done at Monticello in the appropriate year. This can often be quite valuable, but I have not been able to verify library holdings of the annual printed report and have not listed it in this bibliography. The only recent example I have seen is the report for 1981 which contains a description of new acquisitions as well as a trial census of Jefferson's slave populations.

A good deal of the best writing done in the 1980s on Jefferson as an architect focuses on Monticello or pays significant attention to it in the context of other Jeffersonian architectural enterprises. Walter L. Creese's excellent "Jefferson's Charlottesville" (#246) places Monticello along with the University campus in the larger context of the Albemarle County landscape in which Jefferson worked. William L. Beiswanger's "The Temple in the Garden" (#132) looks at more specific details of Jefferson's appropriation of landscape, notably his designs and intentions for various temples and garden buildings, most of which he never built. Beiswanger's meticulous scholarship leads to a clearer sense of Jefferson's imaginative projection of Monticello, as does Gerard G. LeCoat's fascinating "La Vallèe des morts à Monticello" (#A40), which reveals a pre-romantic Jefferson envisioning a burying place as a sentimental project. Kimberly Prothro's "Monticello as Roman Villa" (#573) and James S. Ackerman's chapter on Jefferson in his The Villa (#600) do more than show reliance on mere forms of past architecture; they reveal Jefferson's imaginative investment in classical and Palladian culture visions centering on the villa. Gene Waddell's "The First Monticello" (#456) is a helpful and clear essay documenting the house Jefferson initially conceived before he transformed it into something like what we see now. Although as Jack McLaughlin points out, what we see now is nothing like what any visitor to Monticello saw during Jefferson's lifetime.

The Monticello of the 1980s is a product of extensive restoration and maintenance, and the scholarship of various preservationist efforts has enriched our understanding of what the estate must have looked like during Jefferson's years. The most important recent revelations have been about Jefferson's gardens and the nature of the structures on Mulberry Row where many of the servants lived and worked. The work of Peter Hatch, Monticello's Superintendent of Grounds, has been well covered, particularly in journals directed toward amateur gardeners and horticulturalists. The subject index at the end of this volume lists these under "gardening," and while they are individually aimed at slightly different audiences, many readers will find interesting Ann Schwartz's account of the restoration (#105), Hatch's description emphasizing Jefferson's gardening practices (#143), and J. Tevere MacFadyen's version emphasizing the archaeological work underlying the restoration (#152). Edward Joyce's article (#331) offers detailed information of interest to practical gardeners, and most readers will appreciate the way this garden scholarship has enriched Hatch's revision of Edwin M. Betts and Hazelhurst B. Perkins's classic monograph, Thomas Jefferson's Flower Garden at Monticello (#283). The archaeological work at Monticello was carried out under the direction of William Kelso, the resident archaeologist, who has written several informative articles on his work. These show how Mulberry Row, the kitchen gardens, and even Jefferson's ha-ha protecting the west lawn were parts of an overall design (#s 95, 146, and 260). Articles by Kelso (#333) and Diana C. Crader (#189) throw important light on the diet and living conditions of the slaves housed on Mulberry Row. Essays like this are fit accompaniments to those architectural studies already noted that connect the facts of Jefferson's designs to a larger poetics of society and space; their moving beyond the local questions of mere restoration of vanished gardens and structures gives tantalizing hints of how the social order of Monticello was considerably more than only the inscribed desires of its master.

Research into Jefferson's tastes in food and wine, furniture, and the fine arts have not produced any startling revelations, perhaps with the exception of the discovery in Paris of wines allegedly purchased by Jefferson. For this see the revised edition of R. deTreville Lawrence's Jefferson and Wine (#534), still the best book on this subject. The best of the few essays on Jefferson at the table is Beatrice Fink's "Jefferson's Palatable Pleasures" (#488). Little of import appeared on Jefferson's furnishing of Monticello, although Silvio Bedini's thorough account of the Declaration of Independence Desk (#2) is a sort of antiquarian tour de force on the fortunes of one particular bit of Jeffersonian furniture. Bedini's Thomas Jefferson and His Copying Machines (#170) is another masterly, fascinating account of how Jefferson preserved copies of his letters, especially with Charles Willson Peale's polygraphs. Hannah D. French (#251) adds to our knowledge of how and where Jefferson had some of the volumes in his library elegantly bound. William Howard Adams's essay on "The Fine Arts" (#298) is based on his earlier research into Jefferson's enthusiasm for painting and sculpture and gives an informed and suggestive overview. Brandon Brame Fortune's dissertation on collections of portraits in the early republic includes a discussion of Jefferson's gallery of portraits and busts that adds to our previously sketchy understanding of this topic.

Jefferson was the subject of portrait painters as well as the collector of their efforts, and a few notable items appeared on this topic. Noble Cunningham's The Image of Thomas Jefferson in the Public Eye (#3) looks at the likenesses of Jefferson made for public consumption during his presidency. This informative study is well worth the perusal for its own sake, but it should also prove to be a treasury of suggestions for those interested in mentalité, the state of the arts, the public sphere, etc. in the early republic. Almost all the rest of the important work on portraits of Jefferson was done by David Meschutt in a series of valuable essays on "Gilbert Stuart's Portraits of Jefferson" (#43), "The Adams-Jefferson Portrait Exchange" (#99), and John Browere's life mask of Jefferson (#567). A revised edition of Alfred L. Bush's important Life Portraits of Thomas Jefferson (#376) also came out in 1987.

Suggestive essays on Jefferson as an architect in addition to those noted above that focus on his design of Monticello include Mills Lane's survey of Jeffersonian architecture in his Architecture in the Old South: Virginia (#425). Dell Upton's "New Views of the Virginia Landscape" (#523) is important for its call to consider Jefferson's architectural work in larger contexts, explicitly the material context of Virginia. Gerard LeCoat considers the Rotunda in the context of the French and Roman Pantheons (#210); Steven Parissien discusses the background of English Palladianism (#347), and Thomas J. McCormick adds to our knowledge of Jefferson's relationship with Charles-Louis Clérisseau (#624). These essays, with all their virtues, meet Upton's call less than does, in its modest way, David K. Gleason's Virginia Plantation Homes (#531), a photographic presentation of eighty-one houses surviving from early Virginia. The illustrations begin to suggest to us the impact not only of Jefferson on the Virginia landscape but its impact on him. Robert Lawson-Peebles' "Thomas Jefferson and the Spacious Field of Imagination" (#496) examines his imaginative response to landscape both in writings like Notes and in his manipulations of physical landscapes within the limiting categories of the picturesque. One important event of the decade inspired a flurry of publications: Poplar Forest, Jefferson's octagonal house in Bedford County, was acquired by a corporation formed to preserve it for the public. In what is essentially a guidebook to the house, Barbara McEwan (#386) writes not only of its history in Jefferson's hands but also of its subsequent passage into the hands of the corporation. Her useful text is complemented by the more theoretical and scholarly work done on the house by C. Allan Brown, first in his 1987 M.A. thesis (#374), then in his 1990 essay (#607) that demonstrates Jefferson's thorough attention to the spatial relationships established by Poplar Forest's geometry.

Jefferson's interest and ability in mathematics is attested to in James Tattersall's discussion (#453) of an unpublished manuscript of calculations pertinent to his calculation of the latitude at Poplar Forest. M. G. Williams (#62) surmises that Sir William Petty's Down Survey of Ireland had an impact on Jefferson and notes his esteem for Petty's Political Arithemetic. The most important book on Jefferson's scientific interests has been noted above, Silvio A. Bedini's biographical study (#593), but the same author's essay "Man of Science" (#303) also provides a useful, well-informed overview. Bedini's pamphlet on Jefferson and paleontology (#234) might be difficult to locate, but the information there is mostly contained in the author's biography of Jefferson. Except for Joseph Volker's short note on Jefferson's correspondence about the physiological work of Pierre Flourens (#108), the only other significant work on Jefferson's scientific interests is John C. Greene's American Science in the Age of Jefferson (#172). This, however, has less to say about the relevance of science in Jefferson's personal life than about the scientific context in which he moved.

Merrill Peterson's collection of Jeffersonian texts, Thomas Jefferson: Writings, in the Library of America series of major American authors seems to have marked a long overdue recognition of Jefferson as a literary artist. He was a master of skillful rhetoric, and in their own ways historical scholars who have naively sought to find his "real" opinions directly in his statements and literary scholars disappointed at not finding an immediately present authorial subject have all missed the point of his literary art. The 1980s saw a number of essays that have finally begun to do justice to Jefferson as an artful writer rather than merely as the author of historically important texts. Among these are William L. Hedges' fine study of the Summary View, "Telling Off the King" (#415) and suggestive discussions of Notes on the State of Virginia by Robert A. Ferguson (#194), Mitchell Breitwieser (#243), and Harold Hellenbrand (#256). Dolan Hubbard (#326) places the Declaration of Independence in a tradition of American jeremiads stretching from the Puritans to David Walker, and Stephen Lucas's rhetorical analysis (#562) locates the Declaration in a genre of declarations as poltical discourse. Elizabeth M. Renker (#576) looks at the way in which Jefferson and others self-consciously inscribed themselves in history as signers of the Declaration, and Barry Bell (#133) examines the map of misreading encouraged by the Declaration's protean text. Lewis P. Simpson has portrayed Jefferson as a "poet-prophet" of the South in a number of stimulating essays tending to focus on the Declaration and Notes, central texts for the southern tradition. Most provocative is Simpson's comparison of Hegel's account of the master-slave relationship and Jefferson's (#s 225, 583), but also helpful are his analyses of Jefferson as a southern man of letters (#s 275, 519). Looking at other Jefferson texts, Susan Bryan (#403) imaginatively appraises his "Life and Morals of Jesus" as a version of modern hermeneutic strategies, and Albert Furtwangler (#408) unpacks his letter of January 16, 1811, to Benjamin Rush in order to uncover a poetics of Enlightenment. Frank Shuffelton discusses the letters Jefferson wrote while travelling in France (#518), as well as those written to Abigail Adams (#631), and in two other essays discusses him as a proto-modernist (#629) and compares him to Thoreau (#630). Robert Dawidoff's "Man of Letters" essay in Thomas Jefferson: A Reference Biography (#317) is a useful survey written from an historian's point of view; along with other concerns, it comments usefully on the Head and Heart letter to Maria Cosway.

Lee Quinby (#103) reads the Head and Heart letter as an expression of Jefferson's "aesthetics of virtue," a fusion of art and morals that she finds to be characteristic of his moral understanding in general. Her analysis begins from an understanding of Jefferson's texts as literary performances and ends with a clearer view of his philosophical position. Because 1987 marked the bicentennial of the passing of the Virginia Statute for Freedom of Religion, Jefferson's private religious and moral opinions received a certain amount of attention. The most important piece of scholarship here is noted above, Eugene Sheridan's introduction to Jefferson's Extracts from the Gospels (#124). Charles Sanford's The Religious Life of Thomas Jefferson (#179) is the most ambitious monographic study to date but is less satisfactory as scholarship and interpretation than Sheridan's work. Carl J. Richard's "A Dialogue with the Ancients" (#577) is a welcome addition to the material exploring Jefferson's reading and use of classical philosophy. Jeffrey Barnouw (#131) weighs in with a slightly quirky but suggestive consideration of how the notion of "the pursuit of happiness" might be traced from Bacon and Hobbes to Jefferson. Charles Miller's Jefferson and Nature (#467) has useful things to suggest about the connections between his moral and aesthetic ideas and those about all that might be categorized as "nature." Susan Manning (#621) offers a sensible discussion of the relation between Jefferson's thinking and the traditions of Scottish Enlightenment, and Andrew Reck's essay on "The Mind of Thomas Jefferson" goes back once again to the letter to Maria Cosway in order to discuss Jefferson's reliance upon moral sense theory and his status as a philosophical thinker. Douglas L. Wilson's "Jefferson vs. Hume" (#590) discusses his hostility toward Hume as an historian rather than as a philosopher, but the essay skilfully maps out his complex attitudes toward the Scottish philosopher-historian.