above one hundred. Bald, toothless, nearly blind, bent almost horizontally, and scarcely capable of locomotion, he was absolutely alone in the world, living by permission upon a place, from which the generation to which his master and fellow-servants belonged had long since disappeared. He expressed many an earnest wish for death, and declared, emphatically, that he "was afraid God Almighty had forgotten him." Birds and fishes are said to be the longest lived of animals. For the longevity of the latter, ascertained in fish-ponds, Bacon gives the whimsical reason that, in the moist element which surrounds them, they are protected from exsiccation of the vital juices, and thus preserved. This idea corresponds very well with the stories told of the uncalculated ages of some of the inhabitants of the bayous of Louisiana, and of the happy ignorance of that region, where a traveller once found a withered and antique corpse-so goes the tale-sitting propped in an arm-chair among his posterity, who could not comprehend why he slept so long and so soundly. But the Hollanders and Burmese do not live especially long; and the Arab, always lean and wiry, leads a protracted life amidst his arid sands. Nor can we thus account for the lengthened age of the erow, the raven, and the eagle, which are affirined to hold out for two or three centuries. There is the same diference among shrubs and trees, of which some are annual, some of still more brief existence, and some almost eternal. The venerable oak bids defiance to the storms of a thousand winters; and the Indian baobab is set down as a cotemporary at least of the Tower of Babel, having probably braved, like the more transient though long-enduring olive, the very waters of the great deluge. It will be delightful to know-will Science ever discover for us?-what constitutes the difference thus impressed upon the long and short-lived races of the organized creation. Why must the fragrant shrub or gorgeous flower-plant die immediately after performing its functions of continuing the species, and the pretty ephemeron languish into non-existence just as it flutters through its genial hour of love and grace and enjoyment: while the banyan and the chestnut, the tortoise, the vulture, and the carp, formed of the same primary material elements, and subsisting upon the very same sources of nutrition and supply, outlast them so indefinitely? Death from old age, from natural decay-usually spoken of as death without disease-is most improperly termed by writers an euthanasia. Alas! how far otherwise is the truth! Old age itself is, with the rarest exceptions, exceptions which I have never had the good fortune to meet with anywhere-old age itself is a protracted and terrible disease. MDONALD CLARKE, THE MAD POET, as he was called in New York, where he figured as the author of numerous volumes, and as a well known eccentric in Broadway some twenty years since, was born in one of the New England states, we believe Connecticut. An inscription to the portrait of one of his books supplies the date of his birth, June 18, 1798. An allusion in the preface to another speaks of a scene with his mother at New London, when he was in his ninth year; and the same introduction records his first appearance, August 13, 1819, in Broadway, New York, thenceforward the main haunt and region of his erratic song. M'Donald Clarke. He was a poet of the order of Nat Lee, one of those wits in whose heads, according to Dryden, genius is divided from madness by a thin partition. He was amiable in his weaknesses, having no vices, always preserving a gentility of deportment, while he entertained his imagination with a constant glow of poetic reverie, investing the occasional topics of the town and the day with a gorgeous Byronic enthusiasm. He was constantly to be seen in Broadway, and was a regular attendant at the then, as now, fashionable Grace church. His blue cloak, cloth cap, and erect military air, enhanced by his marked profile, rendered him one of the lions of the pavement. With much purity and delicacy in his verses, it was his hobby to fall in love with, and celebrate in his rhymes, the belles of the city. This was sometimes annoying, however well meant on the part of the poet. Then, from the irregularity of his genius, his muse was constantly stooping from the highest heaven of invention to the lowest regions of the bathetic. The simple, honest nature of the man, however, prevailed; and though witlings occasionally made a butt of him, and entertained themselves with his brilliant flights and his frequent sharp wit, he was upon the whole regarded, by those who had any feeling for the matter, with a certain tenderness and respect.* His poems helped to support him. Judging from the number of editions and their present scarcity he probably succeeded, in some way or other, by subscription or the charity of publishers, in getting from them a revenue adequate to his humble wants. We are not certain that the following are the titles of all his volumes. In 1820 appeared a slight brochure, a Review of the Eve of Eternity and other Poems; and in 1822, The Elixir of Moonshine; being a collection of Prose and Po * On one occasion Col. Stone of the Commercial, and John Lang of the Gazette, were engaged in a newspaper altercation, in the course of which Lang remarked that Stone's brains were like the poet's, a little zig-zag. McDonald stepped into the office of the Commercial, and seeing the Gazette, wrote this impromptu. I'll tell Johnny Lang in the way of a laugh, Since he has dragged my name in his petulant brawl, That most people think it is better by half To have brains that are zig-zag than no brains at all. etry by the Mad Poet, a neat volume of one hundred and forty-eight small pages, published at the "Sentimental Epicure's Ordinary," and bearing the not very savory motto Tis vain for present fame to wish, That never shine until they're rotten. In 1825 Clarke published The Gossip; or, a Laugh with the Ladies, a Grin with the Gentlemen, and Burlesque on Byron, a Sentimental Satire, with other Poems; which gave Clason the opportunity of showing his cleverness by burlesquing burlesque. The next year he sent forth a mischievous volume of poetic Sketches, with some complaints of the "Dutch dignity" of the wealthy young belles who were insensible to his gallantries. Then there were two series of Afara or the Belles of Broadway, and a grand collection of the Poems in 1836. The last effusion of which we have met with the title is A Cross and Coronet, published in 1841. Disdaining to extract amusement from the wildest of these verses, we may cite a few of the others which do credit to the writer's feelings. These are at the commencement of some stanzas on the death of the poet Brainard, who appears to have been his playfellow in their boyhood at New London. So early to the grave, alas!--alas! Its happy dawn was spent with mine, In kindred tasks, and kindred plays. In that sad place, long years ago! Life was flushed with phantoms then, That tinged each object with their bloom; We knew not years were coming, when They'd fade in the future's gloom: We had not seen the frown of Hope Knew not her eye had ever frownedThat soon our hearts would have to grope For feelings-manhood never found. Saddened as stormy moonlight, looks The memory of those half bright days, On Handy's Point-on Groton Height, From Hurlbut's wharf have flung the bait. The following is in one of Clarke's frequent moods. ON SEEING A YOUNG GIRL LOOK VERY WISHFULLY INTO THE STREET, FROM A WINDOW OF MISS'S BOARDING SCHOOL, IN BROADWAY. Sequestered girl-and dost thou deem Thy lot is hard, because thou'rt hidden Are scattered o'er the surge of fashion, How soon its guilty scene impairs Of languid words, and bashful wooing, Its look is warm-its heart is cold, Its accent sweet-its nature savage; The broken form-the ruffled cheek- Worn out beneath a bandit's banner. That steal out from a heart that's broken. There is the spirit of his New England home in these lines: SUNDAY IN SUMMER. When the tumult and toil of the week have ceased, The rich clouds are fringed with yellow and blue- M'Donald's mixture of crudities and sublimities attracted the public, we fear, more than his correcter pieces. He was the mad poet of the town, something like the fool in old plays, venting homilies in most melancholy jest, perhaps with a broken note of music, or a half caught felicity of genius grasped at in one of his quick random flights. Of his humorous efforts a single specimen may suffice, which he appears to have written on the completion of the ASTOR HOUSE. The winds of 1784, Beat on a young Dutchman's head, Who on his brawny shoulders bore Beaver skins, he said To the shaggy burden bent Firmly, for many a year, From the copper seeds of a cent, Has reaped a golden harvest, here, Crowned with its granite wreath- A jovial tomb-stone,-whew! Such as but few on earth afford- Many a mock-dirge be roared Let the broadside of the heaviest stor:n, Thunder for Ages on its form, A twin-tomb to that Alpine pile, Scorn and sentiment were the best winged arrows in Clarke's quiver. His indignation at fortune for her treatment of genius and beauty, and at the fopperies and impertinences of fashion, was unbounded; he would rant in these fits of indignation beyond the powers of the language; but he would always be brought back to human sensibility by the sight of a pretty face or an innocent look. His verses are incongruous enough, grotesque and absurd to the full measure of those qualities, but a kind eye may be attracted by their very irregularity, and find some soul of goodness in them; and a lover of oddity-who would have subscribed for a copy when the poet was living-may innocently enough laugh at the crudities. At any rate we have thought some notice of the man worth presenting, if only as a curious reminiscence of city life in New York, and a gratification to the inquiring visitor at Greenwood Cemetery, who asks the meaning of the simple monument at "the Poet's Mound, Sylvan Water," upon which the death of M'Donald Clarke is recorded March 5, 1812. ISAAC STARR CLASON, A WRITER of fine talent but of a dissipated life, was born in New York in 1798. His father was a wealthy merchant of the city. The son had a good education and inherited a fortune. He wasted the latter in a course of prodigal living, and was driven to exhibit his literary accomplishments as a writer of poems, generally more remarkable for spirit than sobriety, as a teacher of elocution, and as an actor. He appeared on the boards of the Bowery and Park theatres in leading Shakespearian parts, but without much suc cess. In 1825 he published Don Juan, Cantos XVII., XVIII., supplementary to the poem of Lord Byron, and in a kindred vein, not merely of the grossness but of the wit. It made a reputation for the author, and still remains probably the best of the numerous imitations of its brilliant original which have appeared. The scandal of the author's life faithfully reflected in it, added not a little to its piquancy. This was followed, in 1826, by a collection of poems entitled Horace in New York. In this the author celebrates Malibran, then in the ascendant in opera, Dr. Mitchill, Halleck, and the Croakers, and other gossip of the town. In addition to these playful effusions, his capacity for serious verse is shown in some feeling lines to the memory of the orator and patriot Emmett. In 1833 he wrote a poem founded on the "Beauchampe tragedy" of Kentucky; but the manuscript was never seen by any of his family, though he was heard to repeat passages from it. The poem is probably irrecoverably lost. In 1834 Clason closed his life by a miserable tragedy in London, whither he had gone as a theatrical adventurer. Reduced to poverty, this man of naturally brilliant powers threw away the opportunities of life by suicide. In company with his mistress he carefully sealed the room in which they lodged in London against the admission of air, and lighted a fire of charcoal, from the fumes of which both were found suffocated. NAPOLEON-FROM THE DON JUAN, I love no land so well as that of France- reign Greater than Ammon's son, who boasted birth A Venus armed, impressed upon his Seal- On Carthage' altar swore eternal hate, Napoleon Bonaparte! thy name shall live, Till Time's last echo shall have ceased to sound, And if Eternity's confines can give To Space reverberation-round and round The Spheres of Heaven, the long, deep cry of " Vive Napoleon!" in Thunders shall reboundThe Lightning's flash shall blaze thy name on high, Monarch of Earth, now Meteor of the Sky! What! though on St. Helena's rocky shore, Thy head be pillowed, and thy form entombed,Perhaps that Son, the child thou didst adore, Fired with a father's fame, may yet be doomed To crush the bigot Bourbon, and restore Thy mould'ring ashes, ere they be consumed ;Perhaps, may run the course thyself didst runAnd light the World, as Comets light the sun; "Tis better thou art gone; 'twere sad to see Now sunk in Slav'ry and in Shame again; To see th' Imperial Guard, thy dauntless band, Made tools for such a wretch as Ferdinand. Farewell Napoleon! thine hour is past; No more earth trembles at thy dreaded name, But France, unhappy France, shall long contrast Thy deeds with those of worthless D'Angoulême. Ye Gods! how long shall slavery's thraldom last? Will France alone remain for ever tame? Say! will no Wallace, will no Washington, Scourge from thy soil the infamous Bourbon? Is Freedom dead? Is Nero's reign restored? Frenchmen! remember Jena, Austerlitz! The first, which made thy Emperor the Lord Of Prussia, and which almost threw in fits Great Fredrick William-he who at the board Took all the Prussian uniform to bits; Fredrick, the king of regimental tailors, As Hudson Lowe the very prince of jailers. Farewell Napoleon! hadst thou have died The coward scorpion's death-afraid, ashamed, To meet Adversity's advancing tide, The weak had praised thee, but the wise had blamed: But no! though torn from country, child, and bride, And smiling Seraphs open wide Heaven's door! Around thy head the brightest Stars shall meet, And rolling Suns play sportive at thy feet! Farewell Napoleon! a long farewell! A stranger's tongue, alas! must hymn thy worth; No craven Gaul dare wake his Harp to tell Or sound in song the spot that gave thee birth. No more thy Name, that with its magic spell Aroused the slumb'ring nations of the earth, Echoes around thy land! 'tis past; at length, France sinks beneath the sway of Charles the Tenth. THOMAS ADDIS EMMET. Son of a land, where Nature spreads her green, When, in the pride of manhood's steady glow, As the ship proudly held her prow aloft, And well thou hast returned each kindness done, I love to see thee in the crowded court, Filling the warm air with sonorous voice, Which use hath polished, time left unimpairedBold, from the knowledge of thy powers of mind; Flowing in speech, from Nature's liberal gifts— While thy strong figure and commanding arm, Want but the toga's full and graceful fold, To form a model worthy of old Rome. I smile to see thy still unbending form Dare winter's cold and summer's parching heat, And yet, though I enjoy thy frosty strength, While thy chair standing in thy now warm home, Cold as thy monument thy frame must be-- A thing of nought!-For what is man, great God? His body but the chryslis to his mind! We can but murmur: Here an Emmet lies." JOHN HUGHES. THIS distinguished divine and controversialist was born in the north of Ireland, 1798. He came to America in his nineteenth year, and Emmetsburg, Maryland. Soon after his ordinastudied theology at the college of Mount St. Mary, tion in 1825, he became the rector of a Roman Catholic church in Philadelphia, where he entered, in 1830, upon a newspaper discussion with the Rev. Dr. John Breckenridge, a leading divine of the Presbyterian church. The articles thus published were collected in a volume. An oral discussion between the same parties took place in 1834. In 1838, Dr. Hughes, having been appointed Bishop Administrator of New York, removed to that city. In 1840, he commenced an agitation of the School question, claiming either that no tax should be levied for educational purposes, or, if levied, its proceeds be distributed among the various religious denominations of the community, it being impossible, as he urged, to provide a system of education which could be tolerated by all. The reading of the ordinary Protestant version of the Bible he especially objected to. The long discussion of the subject which followed was maintained with great energy, perseverance, and ability by the prelate, who succeeded in obtaining a modification of the previously existing system. His claim that the church property of his denomination should be exclusively vested in the hands of the clergy, likewise urged at an early period of his episcopate, has also caused much discussion, and has been revived in the year 1855 in a controversy between Dr. Hughes and the Hon. Erastus Brooks, of the New York Senate, growing out of a statement by the latter that the Bishop was, in this manner, in possession of property to the value of five millions of dollars. The articles which have passed between the parties have been collected in two separate and rival publications. In 1850, Bishop Hughes and his diocese were promoted by Pius IX. to archiepiscopal rank. His energetic discharge of the duties of his elevated position has not interfered with his literary activity. He has constantly, as occasion has arisen, availed himself of the newspapers of the day to repel charges made against his denomination in relation to its action on contemporary questions, and has also frequently appeared as a lecturer. Several of his productions in the last named capacity have been published, and exhibit him, in common with his less elaborate efforts, as a vigorous, animated, and polished writer, decided in the expression of opinion, and quick in availing himself of every advantage of debate. The following are the titles of these addresses: Christianity the only Source of Moral, Social, and Political Regeneration, delivered in the hall of the House of Representatives of the United States in 1847, by request of the members of both houses of Congress; The Church and the World; The Decline of Protestantism; Lecture on the Antecedent Cause of the Irish Famine in 1847; Lecture on Mixture of Civil and Ecclesiastical Power in the Middle Ages; Lectures on the Importance of a Christian Basis for the Science of Political Economy; Two Lectures on the Moral Causes that have produced the Evil Spirit of the Times; Debate before the Common Council of New York, on the Catholic Petition respecting the Common School Fund; and The Catholic Chapter in the History of the United States. Bishop Hughes is an impressive and agreeable speaker. In person he is tall and well proportioned, with a countenance expressive of benevolence and dignity. FRANCIS L. HAWKS, AN eminent pulpit orator of the Protestant Episcopal Church, was born in North Carolina, at Newbern, June 10, 1798. His grandfather came with the colonial governor Tryon from England, and was employed as an architect in some of the prominent public works of the state, and was distinguished by his liberal opinions in the Revolution. He was graduated at the University of North Carolina, and prosecuting the study of the law in the office of the Hon. William Gaston, was admitted to the bar at the age of twenty-one. He continued the practice of the law for several years in his native state, with distinguished success. A memorial of his career at this period is left to the public in his four volumes of Reports of Decisions in the Supreme Court of North Carolina, 1820-26, and his Digest of all the Cases decided and reported in North Carolina. In his twenty-third year he was elected to the Legislature of his state. His youth had been marked by its high tone of character, and his personal qualities and inclinations led him to the church as his appropriate sphere. He was ordained by Bishop Ravenscroft in 1827. His earliest ministerial duties were in charge of a congregation in New Haven. In 1829 he became the assistant minister of St. James's Church, Philadelphia, in which Bishop White was rector. The next year he was called to St. Stephen's Church in New York, in which city his reputation for eloquence became at once permanently established. From St. Stephen's he passed to St. Thomas's Church in 1832, and continued his connexion with the parish till his removal to Mississippi in 1844. During the latter period of his brilliant career at St. Thomas's, he was relieved from a portion of his city parochial labors by an assistant, and devoted himself to a liberal plan of education, which he had matured with great ability, and the details of which were faithfully carried out. He established at Flush |