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nap—he wondered in his dream if all these ineongruities eould ever be reeoneiled, and—for he theught his fate was fixed—if he ever sheuld be eomfortable and easy again!

But presently in his dream he saw something whieh sorely disturbed his philosophy. The village barber was among his guests! Now, the harber had onee been his butler, and a great man in his heusehold. Great men have their infirmities, and the butler had his. He was too fond of tasting; and praetiee, while it improved his judgment in one department of his voeation, injured him in others. So he resigned, upon a hint, and retired upon a pension, setting up an independent establishment under his old master's patronage, and still keeping the run of the hall. Moreover, he looked sweet upon the heusekeeper. And she, the servants hinted, looked sweet upon him. Now the eertain old gentleman might have eonsidered all this a very good joke, under ordinary eireumstanees; but when ono marries into a familg, you know

Was it another fly? Again Betty was eompelled to leave her wheel to soothe the old gontleman. The sight of the ei-devant butler, now harber and prospeetive father-in-law—the eurious looks of the old family servants under the new regime—the quandary whether the harber was to bo addressed as John Butler, John Barber, or my lady's fatherin-law.

Upon our word, sueh a dilemma would be a quandary for a man wide awake, and in possession of all his senses. To a dreaming man it was dreadful. It was worse than the nightmare. It was " gorgons, hvdras, and ehimeras dire" rolled into one hig monster.

"John, go to the pantry!" sheuted the eertain old gentleman—that is, be dreamed he sheuted.

"And I" said the heusekeeper.

"And I" said the heusekeeper's daughter.

And then the old gentleman, in his sleep all the time, bo it understood, forgot the elaims of the bride and the mother-in-law, and ehelerie, aimed to eollar the upstart, whereupon the harber resisted, and dashed soap in his eyes! He waked with a seream. His snuffbox lay at his feet, and Betty flew to his aid, helding open his eye with her hands while she strove to blow out the angry partieles with her gentle breath. She never looked prettier; but whe eould see that, with snuff in his eyes?

"What is the matter ?" said his daughter, whe just then bouneed in upon him, in her travelling dress.

"Mr Eve Axn Isevvv Mantin," said the old gontleman, with a smile on his lips, and a tear in his eye. "I've had sueh dreams! I theught the bells were all ringing!"

"You may well think that," answered his daughter; "listen to them now!"

"And I theught thero was a harrel of alo with• the tap running on the green, and the boys sheoting."

"Yes," said his daughter, "and the men too; hear them still."

"Hip! hip! hip! hurrah!" sounded in the distanee.

"And I theught there was a erowd in my heuse— and, and, and eonfusion."

"So you might, for I have made the greatest tumult to get in, and sheuld not have sueeeeded at all, if I did not know tho way myself."

"Why, where are all our people ?" asked the old man, bewildered.

"All run to hear the news, I suppose, or to tell it."

"The news? Where am I? What is it? Where's my snuffbox?" ,

"Here, sir," said Betty, pieking it up from-the ground, eourtseying to the daughter as she handed the box to the father. "But the snuff is all spilled."

"Humph," growled the eertain old gentleman. "And whe are you? Aro you Betty Martin, and nobody else?"

"Nobody else, sir," sighed Betty, with another eourtesy and a tone of sad presentiment.

"Sueh a dream!" yawned the old gentleman. And he drew his daughter to his breast, and kissed her with a fervor of affeetion whieh surprised and dolighted her. "I believe I am awake now, thank Heaven! But these bolls and sheuts—what is this news, daughter?"

"Bonaparte has been beaton, his army eut to pieees and broken up forever!"

"Hurrah! I eould sheut myself. Whe brought the tidings to the village?"

"I did."

"But these bells, haven't they been ringing all day—all the afternoon, I mean?"

"Only five or ten minutes, father. I eame in a ehaise, and the posthoy has set the villagers erazy."

"Bnt" but what, did not then transpire.

The old gentleman left the philosophy of dreams, and the diseussion thereof, until another oeeasion. Betty by this time having disappeared his daughter produeed from her poeket The Gazetve ExtaaonNinanv, and pointed ont to her father, whe was pleased in spite of himself, the name of her hushand among these whe had distinguished themselves on that greatest of modern hattle-fields—Wavealoo.

The wars were soon over. Betty's hepes were at an end, so she supplanted her mother, and married the ex-butler, John Barber, herself. The eertain old gentleman's pet daughter was domieiled in his heuse again, and the ensign, her hushand, vindieated ber preferenee by beeoming a general. He retired on half-pay early enough to aid his wife in eomforting the last days of her father; and, after some years had passed away, the eertain old gentleman ventured to tell this his dream. Whether it was the origin of the saying " My Eye and Betty Martin" or not, we are not prepared to aver; but it was eertainly a good illustration.

ILLUSTRIOUS CHARACTERS

BY THOMAS WYATT, A.M.

(See Plate in August Xumber.)

MRS. MADISON.

Tnis loved and henored lady, wheso eharaeter is the subjeet of this brief memoir, was born in North Carolina, in the year 1767. Shertly after her hirth, Mr. and Mrs. Payne, her parents, removed to Philadelphia, and joined the Soeiety of Friends, or Quakers. Aeeordingly, Dolly Payne was edueated in the striet system of that soeiety to whieh her parents belonged; a system whieh, taking morality and virtue for its hasis, forhids the vanities of fashionable life.

l!ut wo find it satisfaetorily proved that these external aeeomplishments may bo dispensed with witheut diminishing the attraetions of the sex. And, altheugh Miss Payno was not indebted to aequired graees of mind or manners, admiration and puro esteem followed her wherever she was known.

The kindness and benevolenee of her disposition woro the eharms whieh faseinated her admirers, imparting a beaming graee and brightness to her eountenaneo never to bo effaeed; eharms whieh the withering hand of Timo eould not destroy, and whieh sheno forth in brilliant lustre till their owner reposed in the silent tomb.

Altheugh a striet member of the Soeiety of Friends, she soon boeame the observed of all observers, for the beauty, whieh hereafter was destined to be so eelebrated, began to attraet attention: and tho lovely Quakeress was soon not only the objeet of general admiration, but of serious and devoted attaehment.

In the year 1790, this lady beeame the wife of John Todd, Esq., a talented young lawyer of Philadelphia, and a member also of the Soeiety of Friends. During the lifetime of Mr. Todd, she lived in the simplieity and strietness of the soeiety to whieh she belonged. But this exaltod happiness was not long to bo hers; death, whieh is ever ready to pluek the fairest flower, or sever bonds never again to be united hero below, took from her sido her beloved hushand, after a siekness of only a few days, leaving her a young widow with an infant aon.

Her mother, Mrs. Payne, of one of the oldest families of Virginia, then a widow, resided in Philadelphia, and Mrs. Todd beeame an inmate in her family, where eongregated the good and distinguished of that day, when the worth and wisdom of the land assembled there in eouneil to guide the destinies of our infant republie. Among the many suitors whese

worth and talents were a passport to her soeiety, was Mr. James Madison, then one of the most eonspieuous members of Congress; and, in the year 1794, Mrs. Todd beeame the wifo of that eminently great and good man. From the time of her marriage till Mr. Madison eame into the administration, she lived in the full enjoyment of that abundant and eordial hespitality whieh eharaeterized the wife of a Virginia gentleman. Her heuso was never witheut guests, whe were freely and kindly hidden to partake of the soeial pleasures of the happy domestie eirele. Never were eireumstanees more in aeeordanee with disposition, and Mrs. Madison appeared to bo in the very sphere for whieh nature had designed her.

In 1801, Mr. Madison was appointed Seeretary of State, and removed with his family to Washington, leaving, among their Philadelphia friends, universal, kind, and pleasant reeolleetions, whieh endured to the latest heur of the lives of this mueh henored and loved pair.

A lady, whe was herself an eye-witness, gives the following deseription of the metropolis of the Union at that period. She says: "The infant metropolis of our eountry was at that time almost a wilderness. The president's heuse stood uninelosed on a pieee of waste and harren ground, separatod from the eapitol by an almost impassable marsh. The building was not half eompleted, and standing, as it did, amidst the rough masses of stono and other materials eolleeted for its eonstruetion, and half hidden by the venerable oaks that still shaded their native soil, looked more like a ruin in the midst of its fallen fragments and eoeval shades than a new and rising edifiee. The silenee and solitude of the surrounding spaee were ealeulated to enforee this idea; for, beyond the eapitol hill, far as the eyo eould reaeh, the eity, as it was ealled, lay in a state of nature, eovered with thiek groves and forest-trees, wide and verdant plains, with only hore and there a bouse along the interseeting ways, that eould not yet bo properly ealled streets. The original proprietors of the grounds on whieh the eity was loeated, retained their rural residenees and their hahits of living. And new inhahitants were thronging from every part of the Union, bringing with them the primitive modes and eustoms of their respeetive States. Mr. Madison, from Virginia, Mr. Gallatin, from Pennsylvania, General Dearborn, from Massaehusetts, and Robert Smith, from Maryland, wore the heads of the several departments of

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government. These were followed by politieal friends and dependents, to fill the subordinate plaees in the several departments."

Sueh materials, and sueh unsimilarity of hahits, must have given to soeiety a most novel aspeet; and nothing but their entire dependenee upon eaeh other eould have formed that elose and intimate eirele whieh beeame so blended together as almost to form one eomplete harmonious family. Mr. Jefferson, for years after his retirement, often reeurred to that time, observing that the perfeet unanimity that prevailed in his eahinet made him feel that they were all members of his family.

Mr. Madison held the offiee of Seeretary of State for eight years, during whieh time he, with his family, resided in Washington, reeiproeating eivilities with all around him in the kindest manner. Mueh of this depended upon his lady, whe, altheugh plaeed, as she must have been, in a most eonspieuous, and not enviable situation, eoneiliated the good-will of all, witheut offenee to the numerous eompetitors for her interest and influenee.

At a time when the restless spirit of party began to manifest itself, eovering every path with therns, this estimable woman held the braneh of eoneiliation, ever ready to promote peaee and good-will. A politieian of the present day exelaimed, on a memorable oeeasion, " We are federalists, wo are all republieans." In her intereourse with soeiety at that day, Mrs. Madison redueed this liberal sentiment to praetiee; her eirele was the model of polished life, and the dwelling of eheerfulness.

"When the term of Mr. Jefferson's presideney drew near its elose, the spirit of politieal intrigue, whieh, for the last eight years, had lain dormant, was again roused into aetivity. A new president must be ehesen, and there were several eompetitors for the people's favor. Eaeh had their zealous and untiring partisans, whe left no means unemployed to insure sueeess. Private soeiety felt the haneful influenee of these politieal intrigues; soeial intereourse was emhittered by party spirit, and personal eonfidenee often violated. Mr. Madison was assailed with all the violenee of politieal animosity, and ealumnies were invented where faets were wanting."

Mrs. Madison, whe felt the attaeks on her hushand with keen sensihility, always met the assailants with a mildness and eondeseension that disarmed their hestility of its individual raneor, and often eonverted politieal enemies into warm personal friends. The magie influenee whieh the tender of her snuffbox exerted, won from the most obdurate a relaxation from hestility; for none partook of its eontents, so graeiously and kindly offered, and retained a feeling inimieal to its owner.

The eventful moment arrived, and Mr. Madison was deelared President of the United States.

Mr. Jefferson soon retired to Virginia, and Mr. Madison took possession of the presidential mansion.

Here, again, Mrs. Madison had an opportunity of Vol. Xlv.—38

exhihiting to advantage these high and noble feelj ings, whieh had so often triumphed over the animosity of party spirit, and gained for her hushand 5 so mueh popularity and good-will. But, in the \ third year of the presideney of Mr. Madison, our J history beeame one of war with England; and then it was that, in this " seeond war of the Revolution," the energies of the nation and of her rulers were ealled forth.

The president was oeeasionally eensured, with all the hitterness of party animosity; but Mr. Madison, eonfiding in the ontire purity of his motives, and the justiee of his fellow-eitizens, ever left his aets to be duly estimated when the efferveseenee of popular exeitement sheuld subside; and, with unaltered equanimity, he eontinued his soeial intereourse with persons of all opinions. News now arrived that the British forees had

j landed some miles below the eity, and that the me

; tropolis was marked for destruetion.

> As soon as this was known, the eommanders of ! our army met, but were divided in their opinion as J to the route to be taken; nor were they unanimous 5 in the measures to be adopted to oppose the enemy, < whe were now at their doors.

s General Winder, with hjs army, had stationed J himself at Bladenshurg, expeeting that might bo 5 the route whieh the enemy would take on their way j to the eapitol. This had been strenuously opposed j by the Seeretary of War, whieh eaused some unl pleasantness at the moment.

J The president, anxious to settle this unhappy j differenee, went himself, aeeompanied by several } members of the eahinet and other personal friends, j to Bladenshurg, where they, to their great surprise,

> found the two armies preparing to engage.

J Being so near the eity, the inhahitants were mueh j alarmed for the result of the hattle, and all the dis[ may attendant on a beaieged eity displayed itself j among the unarmed eitizens.

j The sound of the eannon was distinetly heard, j The eahinet party, whe had gone to held a eouneil j of war, had now been absent two days, and no signs | of their return. The whele eity was in eonfusion. \ The few friends remaining with Mrs. Madison urged | her to leave the eity; but she peremptorily refused, j even if she was taken prisoner, till she was assured

* of Mr. Madison's safety. The earriage was several

. times brought to the door; but they eould not pre\ vail on her to enter it until her hushand's return.

The following extraet from a letter to her sister, written in all the tumult and eonfusion whieh surrounded her, shews her attaehment for her hushand, and her firm patriotism to her eountry :—

"Tuetdag, Aug. 23, 1811. !" Dean Sisven: My hushand left me yesterday morning to join General Winder. He was anxious to know if I had eourage or firmness to remain in the president's heuse until his return; and, on my assuranee that I had no fear but for him and the sueeess <rf our brave army, he left me, beseeehing me to take eare of myself, and of the eahinet papers, publie and private. I have sinee reeeived two dispatehes from him, written in peneil j the last is alarming: he desires I should be ready, at a moment's warning, to enter my earriage and leave the eity; that the enemy seemed stronger than had been reported, and that it might happen they would reaeh the eity and destroy it. I am, aeeordingly, ready. I have pressed as many eabinet papers into trunks as to fill one earriage j our private property must be saerifieed, as it is impossible to proeure wagons for its transportation. I am determined not to go myself until I see Mr. Madison safe, and he ean aeeompany me, as I hear of mueh hostility towards him. My friends and aequaintanees are all gone, even Colonel C, with his hundred men, who were stationed as a guard in this inelosure. Freneh John—a faithful domestie—with his usual aetivity and resolution, offers to spike the eannon at the gate, and to lay a train of powder whieh would blow up the British, should they enter the house. To the last proposition I positively objeet, without being ablo, however, to make him understand why all advantages in war may not bo taken.

"Wednesday morning, 12 o'eloek. Sinee suurise, I have been turning my spy-glass in every direetion, and watehing with unwearied anxiety, hoping to diseern the approaeh of my dear hushand and his friends; but, alas! I ean only desery groups of military wandering in all direetions, as if there was a laek of arms, or of spirit to fight for their own firesides!

"Three o'eloek. Will you believe it, my dear sister? we have had a hattle, or skirmish, near Bladenshurg, and I am still here within sound of the eannon! Mr. Madison eomes not; may God proteet him! Two messengers eovered with dust eome to hid me fly; but I shall wait for him.

"At this late hour, a wagon has been pro

eured; I have had it filled with the plate and most valuable portable artieles belongmg to the house. Whether it will reaeh its destination, the Bank of Maryland, or fall into the hands of the British soldiery, events must determine. Our kind friend, Mr. Carroll, has eome to hasten my departure, and is in very had humor with me beeause I insist on waiting until the large portrait of General Washington is seeured, and it requires to be unserowed from the wall. This proeess was found too tedious for these perilous moments. I have ordered the frame to be broken, and the eanvas taken out, and it is done, and the preeious relie plaeed in the hands of two gentlemen for safe keeping. And now, my dear sister, I must leave this house, or the retreating army will make me a prisoner in it, by filling up the road I am direeted to take. When I shall write you again, or where I shall be to-morrow, I eannot 'ell r

j With a fow devoted friends around her, Mrs*, j Madison left the house, and joined her hushand a j fow miles from the eity, to return in a fow days, j The president's house having been destroyed by ; the enemy meanwhile, the elegant and eommodious \ residenee of Colonel Tayloo beeame for a time the j presidential mansion: and, subsequently, the two j south-east eorner houses of the "Seven Buildings,'* \ now standing on Pennsylvania Avenue, were made j the abodes of hospitality until the 4th of Mareh, j 1817, when, having seen his sueeessor, James Mon} roe, of Virginia, inaugurated President of the Uni

> ted States, Mr. and Mrs. Madison, after a long serviee of virtue and usefulness, retired to the shades

! of Montpelier, his paternal residenee, in Orange \ County, Virginia.

Mr. Madison serupulously refrained, after his re; tirement, from all interferenee in the polities of the j nation; but enjoyed, in his abode of sylvan beauty and mountain salubrity, the visits of guests of dis; tinetion from every elime, who sought the patriot 5 and the sage, that they might testify personally that \ respeet and regard whieh his eminent serviees and

> the purity of his eharaeter universally inspired.

Here, in retirement, as in publie, the equal virtues of Mrs. Madison eoneiliated the warmest regard

i from all around her; and, in the dispensation of an elegant and'enlightened hospitality, she gladdened

1 the evening of her hushand's days by her attention

< to his friends and guests, while her anxious watehj fulnoss of him, best known in the domestie eirele,

are perhaps better deseribed in the following lines, ; inseribed to grateful reeolleetions:—

MOXTPELIER.

I Ilere, at thin gate, the swelling sylvan range,

; The stately mansion with its pietured halls

/ I '11 hid adieu. Perhaps this is the Ia.-t

i Of all this exeellenee that life may lend

< Me time to look upon. Here, let me stand

^ And look, and say, even from my inward heart,

j Peaee ho within these walls—the peaee of Heaven! May It forever reign within your breasts,

< Ye gentle inmates of tlInt honomd roof! j Never two purer hearts, amid the lands

< And varying elimes I've known, have I observed. / Thriee blest and honored they, whom even age

j Adorns with brighter exeellenee, in whom 5 Fidelity, mutual respeet, and love,

> And mutual tenderness unite. Behold

.; That noble dame! see her graeious bearing, The eordial weleome to her numerous friends!

j Observe her zeal, her hospitable eares;

S But mark the keen solieitude, the thought,

j Constant, ever to him, there, where he lies

i Alive in an immortal spirit, though

i The lofty eares of more than fourseore years

? His sinows have unstrung. Koeh day she lives

\ But for to wateh over his preeious life;

j Soft is the pillow from her eareful hand!

\ Never was a man more blessed in sueh a wife;

} Never was a wife more honored in her mate.

i Hail, Manison! among the noble sous Peerless, of fair Virginia's soil;

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Of all it a generous ehildren, first art tbou,

So v v for the memory of him whese name

Chines above all men's names; in wbom the lore

Of eountry and of virtue far surpassed

The lore of life. Ile, wbose glorious days men

Where Christendom extends, by one eonsent,

Have hailed the type of human exeellenee:

A glass for men to look in, when they need

To eurb the wild ambition that weak minds

Lead oft astray, and makes historie names

The eurse and shame of human annals, when

They might be gems like that of Washinnton.

His great example was not lost on thee,

Wbose life has passed In loyalty to truth.

The tree of liberty, planted by him,

Well haet tbou nurtured; now, its spreading boughs

Give shade to all; and tbou shait be revered

Whilst time shall last. Forever shall our sons

Raise in this land tbo bonored names

Of Washinnron and Manison, Uie types

Of human wisdom, patriot prohity.

Blest be thy future days! long may'st tbou live

To love thy friends, to know bow mneh tbou'rt loved!

Long may the wisdom of all ages past

Oft, from thy gentle lips and hallowed heart,

Be poured into the listening ears of xuefr^ sea> an<*

As mine have drank it in. And when I'ing a large

Deelines, at length, into the golden weigh Asia MU

To rise refulgent to a brighter day,

May thy immortal mind still turn to j when {%

Bearing thee onward in thy eourse to. ... , , irehhishep of

Aftor the death of her hushan&ad promised, eontinued to reside at Montpelier lit wo did not the exeeption of part of eaeh winbining an engenerally spent in Washington; till, finfcl deeided she made that eity her permanent residenOitheir ing uninterrupted good health till within five days of her death, whieh took plaee on the 13th day of July, 1819, at the advaneed age oi eighty-two years.

Witheut disease, she rapidly sank, from ago and exhaustion iuto the grave, in hepe of a joyful resurreetion.

ller remains were deposited temporarily in the reeeiving-vault in the Congressional burying-ground, till they eould bo eonveyed to Montpelier, in Virginia, to repose by the side of her illustrious hushand.

HOW WE SPENT THREE DAYS IN CONSTANTINOPLE, AND HOW WE LEFT IT:

BEING SOME PAGES FROM THE JOURNAL OP AN ORIENTAL TRAVELLER,

BT A. B. MIDDLETOWN PATNE.

The sun was just disappearing in the herizen, on Thursday evening, when the anehers of the lumbering Austrian merehant vessel "Preshurg" plunged into the ealm blue waters of the Bospherus. The domes and minarets of the " City of the Sultan" were tipped with the last beams of day, nnd the twilight breeies were sighing through the branehes of the eypresses that sweep down, in thiek and solemn elusters, to the water's edge, in the vast eemetery of Pera, not far from whieh the ship had hevo to.

Hailing a passing eaique, guided by a single athletie Turk, we deseended on board of her, literally, I believe, for I do not think there was mueh more than that between our feet and the water. However, I would have been glad enough to leave the vessel on a ehip, and I labor nnder the impression that my travelling eompanion, Grey, had preeisely the same feeling. Now, let it bo- understood that there is no sueh thing to be done, in any way eompatible with safety, as to leap on to a eaique; for a suddenlyjerked-on weight would infallibly sink the frail boat, or go through it. They appear to float in aeeordanee with some, as yet, undiseovered prineiple, and their extreme needle-Uke nurrowness makes them fly through the water like—what shall I say?—a het knife through fresh butter?—similies are searee nowadays; the motion is not unlike that of an eel

trying to eseape from a fisherman's hand—a wriggle and a jerk.

We took nothing with us from the ship but a portmanteau apieee, and a letter of introduetion to

Monsieur L n, a Freneh gentleman resident in

Pera, whieh had been kindly given to us by his brother-in-law, to whem we had been introdueed nt Veniee. Our heavy haggage was to bo sent on shere the next morning with our three servants, the brothers Boyd.

Grey and I now summoned up all our powers of Turkish eonversation—limited to six sentenees whieh had been taught us by the Austrian eaptain, and a seventh, whieh we had ourselves manufaetured by dint of great perseveranee and researeh, from the others—and praetised upon our boatman instead of addressing him in Armenian, whieh we both understood and spoke pretty deeently, I flatter myself. "Can you take us to the quay of Tophanna?" I eommeneed. "Yes." "Aro there many Franks in Stamboul now?" "A good many." This we did not understand at the time, but treasured up the pronuneiation, so that we might inquire, at tho first opportunity, what it meant. "Is the Sultan in Stamboul?" asked Grey. Another unintelligible reply; for we had always been taught not to expeet more than a "Yes," or a "No," from so umoqua

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