Weekly Trinity journal., 1867-12-07
NUMBER 4S.
The Late James A. McDougaIl.

George VIM. Curtis, in Harper's Weekly, thus
writes of a late Senator from California
In the early days of Summer of this year there
was seen tor a few days striking figure upon
the pleasant balcony piazza of Congress Hall
in Albany. This hotel is upon the hill by the
side of the Capitol and its balcony is shaded by
the dense foliage of the trees in the little street
which separates it from the square in front which
crowns the hill before the Capitol as you look up
State street. Upon that balcony, as said, in
the early days of June, there sometimes sat a
small, slight man, apparently shriveled or with
cred, the slightness of his form emphasized by
large broad-brimmed plantation hat He was
bent or curled over as he sat, and smoked long
ppe-so long that owas obliged to hold the
wooden stem in his lAnd, as if it had been Chi
bouuue, and he was always alone; he seemed
to know no one and to care to make no acquaint-
ances. Apparently he muttered good deal to
himself, as if rapt and unconsciously talking.
But the murmur was inarticulate. 1t seemed
forlorn grolesque old man, living in reverie.
But when he arose his step was uncertain. lie
moved toward the dining-room IN the same SELF
involved manner, and 1t became too PLAIN that IL
was a man wholly besotted with drink. AT the
table there was the same mutterlngs stupid
wonder that the walters did not come peevlsh
impatence, and abrupt stalking away from
the room before he had half eaten his dinner.
Then if, forgetting the sad spectacle OF
ruined man, some musing loiterer upon the bal
cony could have looked through the trees OF the
dusky square down into the Albany of thirty or
forty years ago, he might have seen an eager,
intelligent lad, earnest in study, ardent IN
friendship, generous, aspiring, ambitious, with
a sparkling and persuasive tongue, and bril-
liant career smiling upon him from the future
Later he might have followed the youth to the
other side of the continent, where the promise
seemed to be partly fulfilled, and he rose to hlgn
! civic honors. Yet upon broader and more
y,la hat
eclipsed, and the bright, studious boy became q
man whose presence was a saddening spectacle,
and whose name was by-word. He had grown
to be q national humiliation and such was the
wreck and waste of manhood that there were
many who asked as they had never asked before
can nothing be done by law to prevent this
terrible ruin which seems to lie in wait for any
man?
When he sat upon the balcony of Congress
Hall he held no public postion-he commanded
no respect. 1t was pitiful to see him crouched
under the broad brim of his hat and to think
that, he silently smoked, he too looked
through the trees of the dusky square down into
the town and saw the rosy, eager, hopeful BOY
of thirty or forty years ago, and then thought OF
the horrible incubus which had gnawed his life
and career away, and which he could never hope
to throw off. Nobody spoke to hint was use
less but he too tragical sight to smile at.
| Yet this old man, he seemed, this premature
ly withered frame of seventy, only forty
eight years old.
At the end of the Summer, in early Septem-
Der, if you coming up State street one warm
afternoon, you would have seen several carriages
and hearse before ST. Peters Church. The
generous, hopeful the ruined man, was dead
The service was read, and amidst the warm tears
of those who who loved him he was borne away.
There was address, no sermon. What could
be said The one great appalling fact of his
life-could that be mentioned as a warning
his coffin :? And if it were not mentioned what
else could be thought of? The prayers
said in the church, which was as gloomy and
depressing as our Gothic churches generally are;
but there sermon. The life, the death
they were the most solemn and impressive of
sermons