under the incognito of a British officer, wrote his celebrated description. It has often been questioned how far the accomplished author gave himself the license of fiction in his sketch. It may, therefore, be observed, that Dr. Waddel was well known in Virginia, his pulpit costume was different from that described, and that the British Spy, instead of being a transient stranger, was well acquainted with Dr. W. and his family. Says Prof. Alexander, "Mr. Wirt stated to me, that so far from adding colors to the picture of Dr. Waddel's eloquence, he had fallen below the truth. He did not hesitate to say that he had reason to believe, that in a different species of oratory he was fully equal to Patrick Henry. He added, that in regard to the place, time, costume, and lesser particulars, he had used an allowable liberty, grouping together events which had occurred apart, and, perhaps, imagining as in a sermon, observations which had been uttered by the fireside." Patrick Henry was accustomed to say, that Waddel and Davies were the greatest orators he ever heard. The elocution of those men was not that taught by masters, or that practised before the mirrors of colleges. A venerable clergyman said, "When other men preach, one looks to see who is affected; when Dr. Wad. del preached, those not affected were the exception. Whole congregations were affected." Gov. Barbour declared, that Dr. W. surpassed all orators he ever knew.

Dr. Waddel on some occasions employed his singular faculty in the revolution, in patriotic services, and once addressed Tate's company, at Midway, Rockbridge county, previous to their marching to the south. When the British Spy appeared, the old gentleman was unfeignedly grieved at the laudatory notice of himself, and in reply to a complimentary letter which he received, he dictated the words, Haud merita laus, opprobrium est-Unmerited praise is a reproach.]

His independence and zeal brought him into collision with the established church; and he was one time fined for occupying a parish church. In the latter part of his life he was afflicted with blindness. After several years his sight was partially restored by the operation of couching.

A most touching account of Dr. Waddel's restoration to sight has lately been published in the Literary Messenger. From it we derive the following: For eight years he had been blind, a stranger equally to the cheerful light of day and the cheering faces of kindred and friends. In the lapse of time great changes had taken place. The infant had left the knee to rove among the fields-the youth had started into manhood, and gone forth in the busy scenes of life, without a hope that the eyes of his venerable father would ever rest upon him. Like the evening cloud of summer, a calm and holy resig nation settled over the mind of this man of God; but the dark curtain which hung ove the organs of sight seemed destined to rise no more.

After an operation for cataract, which, in the progress of some years, had renderea light sensible, and then objects faintly visible-a well-constructed convex lens, sent by a distant friend, enabled him in a moment to see with considerable distinctness. The scene which followed in his family around was most moving. The father could again *see his children, who riveted his attention and absorbed his soul. Among these einotions of intense interest and varied suggestion were visible in the eye, countenance, and hurried movements. The bursts of laughter-the running to and fro-the clapping of hands-the sending for absent friends-and then the silent tear bedewing the cheek in touching interlude the eager gaze of old servants, and the unmeaning wonder of young ones-in short, the happy confusion and joy was such a scene as a master's pencil might have been proud to sketch. The paroxysm produced by the first application of the glasses having passed away; behold! the patriarch in his large arm-chair, with his children around him, scanning with affectionate curiosity the bashful group. There was a visible shyness among the lesser members of the family while undergoing this fatherly scrutiny, not unlike that produced by a long absence. The fondness of a father in contemplating those most dear to him was never more rationally exemplified, or exquisitely enjoyed. And now the venerable old man arose from his seat, and grasped a long staff, which seemed powerfully but momentarily to engage his attention-it had been the companion of his darkest days, the pioneer of his domestic travels, and the supporter of a weak and tottering frame-he then proceeded to the front door to take a view of the mountains, the beautiful southwest range, stretching out in lovely prospect at the distance of about three miles. All followed; and the mountain-scene, though viewed a thousand times before, was now gazed upon with deeper interest, and presented a greater variety of beauties than ever.

About four miles from Orange C. H., on a slight eminence, is Montpelier, which was the seat of James Madison, President of

the United States from 1809 to 1817. It is a large brick building. Its interior is furnished with plain, but rich furniture, and orna

mented with busts, pictures, &c. There is an extensive lawn in the rear of the mansion, beyond which is a large and elegant garden, containing a great variety of both native and exotic plants. Mr. Madison died at Montpelier, on the 28th of June, 1836, at the advanced age of eighty-seven, deeply lamented as a national loss. The following sketch, from the New York Mirror, is by one who knew him well, and passed many pleasant hours in his society:

Jaum

Great occasions produce great men. The records of our own country bear tes

Madison timony to this truth. In the early and

in the later ages of her struggles, there were not wanting men to advise and to act for a nation's welfare. Among those who have acted a conspicuous part in building up our political and civil institutions for more than sixty years, was JAMES MADISON, who has lately sunk to rest, full of years and honors.

Mr. Madison was by birth a Virginian, and wholly educated in this country. He was intended for a statesman from his youth, and made himself master of constitutional law, when it was hardly known as a science either in England or in this country. He was born on the sixteenth of March, 1751, and, of course, was in all the ardor and freshness of youth on the breaking out of the revolution. In 1775, Mr. Madison was a member of the legislature of Virginia, and at that early age, was distinguished for his maturity of understanding and sage prudence. He was soon appointed one of the council of the state. During the whole eventful struggle, James Madison had the confidence of the state of Virginia; and, as a member of her legislature, was listened to with pro. found attention when he brought forward sundry resolutions for the formation of a general government for the United States, based upon the inefficiency of the old confedera. tion. From these resolutions grew a convention of delegates from the several states, who, in conclave, prepared a form of a constitution to be submitted to the several states for their discussion, approbation, and adoption. Mr. Madison was a member of this convention, as a delegate from Virginia, and took an active part in the deliberations of that enlightened body, of which Washington, his colleague, was president. On the adoption of this constitution-a wonderful era in the history of the liberties of man-Mr. Madison was elected a member of the first Congress, and took an active part in setting the machinery in motion. At this period public opinion was greatly agitated by the crude

and false opinions scattered through the country, through the medium of the opposition presses; this was grievous to the friends of the constitution, and three mighty minds, Jay, Hamilton, and Madison, formed a holy alliance to enlighten the people upon the great doctrines of the constitution, and breaking through the host of the Philistines, drew the pure waters of truth for the good of the people. The essays from the pens of these worthies, were collected in a volume, called the Federalist, which now stands a monument of the wisdom and patriotism of that age. In the debates of the first Congress, Mr. Madison took a large share. It was an illustrious assemblage of patriots, among whom there often arose a difference of opinion in regard to political policy, but all were lovers of their country, and laboring for her best interests. Here Mr. Madison acted with the Cabots and the Ames' of the east, in perfect harmony. It was reserved for an after age to feel the withering effects of party feuds. These were hardly discovered as long as the father of his country filled the presidential chair. In the administration of his successor, a separation into parties took place, and Mr. Madison ranked himself on the side of Mr. Jefferson and his party. During the presidency of Mr. Jefferson, Mr. Madison was secretary of state, and sustained that office with singular ability. He held a ready pen, had a clear, philosophical perception of the great principles on which the government professed to act, and could readily produce a defence of the course pursued. No secretary ever did, or ever will do more by force of argument, than Mr. Madison, while supporting the measures of Mr. Jefferson.

In

In March, 1809, Mr. Madison became President of the United States. It was a stormy period. France and England, in their fierce struggles for mastery, forgot the rights of neutral nations, and outraged our independence. Insult followed insult from both countries, for the three first years of his administration; but he was, from the very elements of his nature, inclined to peace, and had not urged preparations for war. 1812, war was declared, without preparation, and the executive of the United States had a difficult task to perform. A powerful part of the people were opposed to the war, some for one reason, and some for another, and it required no small degree of moral courage, to steer the ship of state at such a crisis. Mr. Madison was not a military chieftain, and took no pleasure in the glories of a victory, no further than they were beneficial to the interests of his country; but his moral courage was of the highest order, that which arises from a consciousness of an intention of doing good. There can be no doubt but that so sagacious a statesman as Mr. Madison, saw some of the bless. ings that were to flow to his country from the evils of war. He knew that nations, at times, bold incorrect opinions, and that the rude shocks of war are the only remedies for these errors. The war had its dark and bright spots on the tablets of fame, but its results were altogether fortunate. The necessity of a navy for national honor and protec tion, anchored itself into the firm bosom of every patriot, with such a hold as to ride out every billow and whirlwind of faction. By this war we were taught that no nation could ever claim to be independent, whose resources were confined to agriculture and com merce alone. By this war we became a manufacturing people to a respectable extent; but there was as much opposition to this as there was to the war. This goes to show, that it is beyond human reason to foresee what may be best; but all will agree that there should always be wisdom and honesty at the head of our people, to make the most judicious use of every event.

In 1817, when the reign of peace was established, Mr. Madison retired to his farm to enjoy the serenity of rural life; but here he has not been idle. On the death of Mr. Jefferson, he was made chancellor of the University of Virginia, and, as well as his predecessor, took a deep interest in the prosperity of the institution. When Virginia called a convention to alter her constitution, Mr. Madison, with Chief-Justice Marshall and Mr. Monroe, were found among the sages who had witnessed the birth of that constitution, and were well acquainted with its excellences and defects, and were good judges of the best forms of amendment. Several years ago, a bookseller at Washington got up an edition of the debates in the several conventions called by the states in 1787 and 1788, to deliberate on the adoption of the constitution of the United States. Mr. Madison took a lively interest in this publication, and afforded the editor all the information that he possessed upon the subject.

Mr. Madison was unquestionably the leading member in the Virginia convention, called for the adoption of the constitution of the United States, although there were several distinguished men among them. This body was fortunate enough to have employed a reporter of eminence for the occasion, which was not the case in many other states; and what the Virginia reporter did not put down in his notes, Mr. Madison's minutes and recollections most readily supplied.

In the convention he had to meet the blaze of Patrick Henry's eloquence, the subtle arguments of Mason, and the chilling doubts of Monroe; but all were overcome by the clearness of his views, and the force of his reasonings. Mr. Madison was not an orator in the common acceptation of the word; there were no deep tones in his voice; no flashes of a fierce and commanding eye; no elegant gestures to attract the beholder; all was calm, dignified, and convincing. It was the still, small voice, in which the oracles of God were communicated to the prophet. He never talked for the love of display, but simply to communicate his thoughts. He spoke often in debate, when earnest in his cause, but was always heard with profound attention; not a word of his speeches was lost. He was so perfectly master of his subject, that he had nothing to correct in a retrospective view of it, and was so well understood that he had nothing to explain. His voice was deficient in volume, but it was so well modulated, that its compass was more extensive than that of many speakers of stronger lungs. His conversation was truly a charm. He was familiar with most topics, and he loved both to communicate and receive information. He lived in times when men grew up with strong prejudices and partialities; but his most familiar guests seldom heard a sentence tinged with them, either at his table or fireside. For nearly twenty years he had been daily preparing for the change of worlds, and at last sunk into the arms of death in as peaceful a sleep as a babe on the bosom of his mother. Nature and religion had cured him of all fears of the grave; he had no dread of what "dreams might come when he had shuffled off this mortal coil." He had no enmities to settle, for he had quarrelled with no one; he had no slanders to forgive, for no one ever traduced him. His history contains, indeed, a miracle, for there has not been one of mortal, or of immortal birth, who has acted a conspicuous part on this earth, but James Madison, whose private reputation has not been assailed.

The late Gov. James Barbour, and the late Judge Philip Pendleton Barbour, the sons of Col. Thomas Barbour, were born at the family seat near Montpelier.

JAMES BARBOUR "held the highest trusts in Virginia, as speaker of the House of Delegates, governor of the state, and senator in Congress. Under the general governyent he sustained with ability the offices of secretary of war and minister to Great Britain. His political career was a distinguished one, and his character in life secured the esteem of all who knew him. He died June 8th, 1842, aged sixty-six."

PHILIP PENDLETON BARBOUR " was distinguished for his talents, and was indebted to his professional and political eloquence for his success in life. He was a member of Congress from 1814 to 1825; in 1821 he was elected speaker of the House of Representatives; in 1825 he was appointed a judge of the Virginia court; in 1827 he became again a member of Congress, and served three sessions. In 1836 he was appointed by President Jackson an associate judge of the supreme court of the United States. He died suddenly, February 25th, 1841, at Washington city, of ossification of the heart, aged about sixty."

PAGE.

PAGE County was formed in 1831, from Rockingham and Shenandoah, and named from John Page, governor of Virginia from 1802 to 1805. The county is 34 miles long, with a mean width of 11 miles, and consists of one entire valley, with the Shenandoah running its whole length through it, from N. to s., and the Blue Ridge lying on the east, and the Fort or Massanuttin mountain on the west. These mountains ever present a beautiful and picturesque appearance, whether viewed robed in the snow, ice, and clouds of winter, the refreshing green of summer, or the gorgeous hues of autumn. The soil of Page is generally of the best quality

of limestone valley land; a very considerable portion is bottom, lying on the Shenandoah River, and Hawksbill, and other creeks. The mineral wealth of the county is great; iron abounds, and copper, lead, magnesia, and beautiful marble, are found in many places. Population in 1840, whites 5,195, slaves 781, free colored 216; total, 6,194.

Luray, the county-seat, is 130 miles NW. from Richmond, and 96 from Washington. It is situated on the Hawksbill creek, near the centre of the county. The first house was built here in 1814. It now contains several mercantile stores, 2 or 3 churches, and a population of about 500. About one mile west of the town of Luray, is a cave which is but little inferior in extent, beauty, and magnificence, to Weyer's cave. Its entrance is at the top of a small mountain called Cave Hill, and not being very accessible, is not much visited. The most splendid apartments in it are Congress and Masonic Halls. From a published description of the cave by those who first explored it, we extract the following, relative to these beautiful rooms:

Congress Hall.-After descending, as we supposed, about a quarter of a mile, the passage became very straight and smooth, and gradually enlarged until we perceived that we stood in front of a room whose dimensions, from the light of our candles, we could not discover. The entrance here, as in the room which we first entered, was ten or fifteen feet above the level of the floor. After a few moments, however, by clinging to the projections of spar, which here appeared like large icicles, the whole party stood safely upon the floor of this great room. Here all the wonder and magnificence of the subterranean world burst upon us at once. We found that we stood in a room, the area of whose floor was equal to a quarter of an acre. Immediately before us, and within a few feet of the centre of the room, arose a vast column, or pillar, in some de gree combining architectural proportions, and running up about thirty feet, and supporting the dome of this immense hall. This column stands upon a block, or rude pedestal, about three feet in height, and the shaft where it rests upon it is about the thickness of a man's body. It then swells gradually until it becomes, at the distance of twenty feet from its base, about the size of a barrel, whence it continues of the same size, until it gradually enlarges into its capital, where it reaches the dome. Strange to tell, this vast column is almost as regularly fluted or grooved, as if it had been done with the chisel of the sculptor. About fifteen feet from the main pillar stand two smaller ones, about ten feet in height, which consequently do not reach the ceiling; and just at their base, and nearly between them, is a small pool or basin of water. We perceived by the united glare of all our candles, that the whole of the arch of this immense hall was hung with the most beautiful stalactites, and variegated with almost every possible variety of color. In some places it was perfectly white, then red, gray, or yellow, and in others it was as clear and transparent as ice.

In looking around us towards the lights which were dispersed in different parts of the hall, the various small spars or pillars that were pointing up-others that had been detached from the ceiling and lay scattered about the floor-and numerous large blocks of crystallized limestone, produce novel and almost indescribable feelings. It did not require an imagination unusually fervid, to liken this dim picture of the floor to the miniature ruins of some great city, with a few of its spires and steeples pointing up from the ruins; or to some mighty temple, with its shattered and broken columns and fallen walls, with just sufficient of its materials to show the style of its former magnificence.

Masonic Hall.-In this room, about three and a half feet above the level of the floor, is a complete wainscot or chairboard, with apparent mouldings and carved work in complete relief, and extending in one entire and unbroken circle around the room. In the centre of the floor stand three large spars, resembling candlesticks of a mammoth size. These candlesticks arise from the floor of the room, with various enlargements and diminutions resembling carved work, until they reach the exact level of the chairboard,

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