“Under the same roof, divided only by a partition-wall, were thus exhibited the customs of the beginning and end of a century; thus offering a strange but most interesting exhibition of the differences between the old and the new age. By only opening a door, the observer passed from the elegancies, refinements, and gayeties of modern life into all that was venerable, respectable, and dignified in gone-by days; from the airy apartments—windows opening to the ground, hung with light silken drapery, French furniture, light fancy chairs, gay carpets, etc., etc., to the solid and heavy carved and polished mahogany furniture darkened by age, the thick rich curtains, and other more comfortable adjustments of our great-grandfathers’ times. It was considered a great favor and distinction by the gay visitors who thronged Mrs. Madison’s hospitable mansion, to be admitted to pay the homage of their respect to his reverend mother.” A lady who visited Montpelier in 1836, when the latter was in her ninety-seventh year, said of her: “She still retained all her faculties, though not free from the bodily infirmities of age. She was sitting, or rather reclining, on a couch; beside her was a small table filled with large, dark, and worn quartos and folios of most venerable appearance. She closed one as we entered, and took up her knitting which lay beside her. Among other inquiries, I asked her how she passed her time. ‘I am never at a loss,’ she replied; ‘this and these (touching her knitting and her books) keep me always busy; look at my fingers, and you will perceive I have not been idle.’ In truth, her delicate fingers were polished by her knitting-needles. ‘And my eyes, thanks be to God, have not failed me yet, and I read most part of the day; but in other respects I am feeble and helpless, and owe everything to her,’ pointing to Mrs. Madison, who sat by us. ‘She is my mother now, and tenderly cares for all my wants.’ My eyes were filled with tears as I looked from the one to the other of these excellent women, and thought of the tender ties by which they were united. Never, in the midst of a splendid drawing-room, surrounded by all that was courtly and brilliant, all that was admired and respected—the centre of attraction—the object of admiration—never was Mrs. Madison so interesting, so lovely, so estimable as in her attendance on this venerable woman, the acknowledged object of her grateful affection.