gentlemen, seemed totally unconscious of the homely bearing, the country manners, and awkward dress of his wife.  In all companies and on all occasions he showed her every possible mark of respect.  The ladies gathered about her and presented her with all sorts of showy knick-knacks and jewelry, and one of them undertook the task of selecting suitable clothes for her.  She frankly confessed that she knew nothing at all about such things, and was willing to wear any thing the ladies thought proper.  Much as she enjoyed her visit, she was glad enough to return to her old home on the banks of the Cumberland, and resume her oversight of the dairy and the plantation.

Soon after the peace, a remarkable change came over the spirit of this excellent woman.  Parson Blackburn, as the general always called him, was a favorite preacher in that part of Tennessee, and his sermons made so powerful an impression on Mrs. Jackson that she joined the Presbyterian Church, and was ever after devotedly religious.  The general himself was almost persuaded to follow her example.  He did not, however; but he testified his sympathy with his wife’s feelings by building a church for her—­a curious little brick edifice—­on his own farm; the smallest church, perhaps, in the United States.  It looks like a very small school-house; it has no steeple, no portico, and but one door; and the interior, which contains forty little pews, is unpainted, and the floor is of brick.  On Sundays, the congregation consisted chiefly of the general, his family, and half a dozen neighbors, with as many negroes as the house would hold, and could see through the windows.  It was just after the completion of this church that General Jackson made his famous reply to a young man who objected to the doctrine of future punishment.

“I thank God,” said this youth, “I have too much good sense to believe there is such a place as hell.”

“Well, sir,” said General Jackson, “I thank God there is such a place.”

“Why, general,” asked the young man, “what do you want with such a place of torment as hell?”

To which the general replied, as quick as lightning:  “To put such rascals as you are in, that oppose and vilify the Christian religion."’

The young man said no more, and soon after found it convenient to take his leave.

Mrs. Jackson did not live to see her husband President of the United States, though she lived long enough to know that he was elected to that office.  When the news was brought to her of her husband’s election, in December, 1828, she quietly said:  “Well, for Mr. Jackson’s sake” (she always called him Mr. Jackson) “I am glad; for my own part, I never wished it.”