Martinsburg gazette. [volume] (Martinsburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1833-1855, 1841-05-20
LONDON AT NIGHT.

III is calm. Calm ana unmoveo amidst
the scenes that darkness lavors, the great
neart of London throbs in lis Clan, breast.
Wealth and beggary, vice and virtue,
guilt and innocence, repletlon and the
direst hunger, all treading on each other,
and crowding together, are gathered round
it. Draw but little circle above the
clustering house.tops, and you shall have
within its space, every thing with lis op-
pos,e extreme and contradiction, close
beside. Where yonder feeble light is
shining, man is but this moment dead.
The taper, at few yards distance, is
seen by eyes that have this instant opened
on the world. There are two houses sep.
arated by but an inch or two oil wall. In
one, there are quiet minds at rest; in the
other, waking conscience that one night
think would trouble the very air. In that
close corner where the roofs shrink down
and cover together as if to hide their Sc.
crets frcm the handsome street hard by,
there are such dark crimes, such miseries
and horrors, as could be hardly told in
whispers. In the handsome street, there
are folks asleep who have dwelt there all
their lives, and have no more knowledge
OF these things than they had never been,
or were transacted in the remotest limits
ofihe Worldwide, il they were limited at,
would shake their heads, look wise, and
frown, and say they were impossible, and
out OF Nature-as if all great towns were
not. Does not this heart OF London, that
nothing moves, nor stops, nor quickens -
that goes on the same, let what will be
done-does il not express the clty's char.
acter well.
The day begins to break, and soon
there is the hum and noise of life. Those
who have spent the night on door. steps
and cold stones, crawl off to beg; they
who have slept in beds come forth to their
occupation too, and business is as,ir.
The fog of sleep rolls slowly off, and
shines awake. The streets are filled with
carriages, and people galy clad. The
jails are full, too, to the throat, nor have
the work. houses or hospitals much room
to spare. The courts Of law are crowd.
ed. Taverns have their regular frequent.
ers by this time, and every mart OF traf-
fc has its throng. Each of these places
is world, has lis own inhabitants each
is distinct from, and almost unconscious
of the existence Of any other. There are
some people well to do, who remember to
have heard it said, that numbers of men
and women thousands they think it was
get up every day, unknowing where to
lay their heads at night; and that there
are quarters of the town, where misery
and famine always are. They don't be-
lieve it quite-there may be some truth
in it, but 1t is exaggerated Of course. So
each ofthese thousand worlds goes on in
tent upon itself, until night comes again.
first with its lights and pleasures, and its
cheerful streets then with its guilt and
darkness.
Heart of London, there is moral in
thy every stroke AS look on at thy in
domitable working, which neither death,
nor press of life, nor grief, nor gladness
out of doors, will influence one jot, seem
to hear a voice within thee which sinks
into my heart, bidding me, as elbow my
way among the crowd, have some thought
for the meanest wretch that passes, and,
being man, to turn away with scorn and
pride from none who bear the human
shape.