The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1853-11-16
NUMBER 80.
From the Albany Daily Register.
Sights and Things in New York.

Stand here for moment, our friend,
and look up this long street, this great
thoroughfare, this main artery of travel
of this great city. See these lines of
gas-lights, how they stand over against
each other, approximatng towards
point away of beyond the reach of WIS.,
ion. They seem like sentinels, between
whom great army is to pass, and wo
can almost see them pcering into the fa-
ccs of each individual of these thousands
that are moving in ceaseless current
by them. Look the other way, down
the Street and the same line of sentinels
arc there. In the darkness beyond one
can almost imagine a gulf precipice, d
dark place, into which these moving
masses plunge and disappear from the
sight. Standing, as we do, upon these
corners, other lines Of thc same move
less sontinels stretch away on the right
and on the left, revealing only the great
fact that there is darkness away beyond.
These gas-lights have language-they
speak. They say "Move on pass a
long, mortas pause not by the way
move along into the dim twilight-fur-
ther into the gathering gloom-further
still, into the darkness Life i-, at best,
but the glimmer of the gas-lights tho
darkness beyond is the valley of the
shadow of death. Make way for those
that are coming after-pass on into the
darkness" See how this sermon of tho
lamps is followed out. Hear this cease
less tramp, tramp, falling in dull monot
ony on the ear. Tramp, tramp, is tho
word-onward into the dim twilight, on
ward into the gathering gloom. onward
into the darkness. Here, in this pause
less stream, is the type of human life
Onward and onward towards the dark
ness, which is death
Let us pause here for n moment and
look upon the faces of some of these pco-
pie who never seem to stop, BY the bright
light of '-corner lamp" Here comes
one with queenly step in a robe Of cost
ly silk. There is bloom upon her check,
but her eye looks boldly into those of
all she meets. Look not upon her
Lost lost The bloom on her check
is lie. The smile on her lip is false
hood. Lost Lost \ mothers tears
have blottcd her name from the book of
life, and angels wept over the sentence
ofhor condemnation. Lost Lost was
whispered in heaven, when the pleading
spirit turned sadly away from her, and
hope closed the volume of her eternal
destiny. Lost host And yet hero
in this city, within the sound of these
church bells, under the very droppings
of the sanctuary, are ten, some tell US,
twenty thousand like her, all hurrying
downward with an ever acccllerating ve-
locity, sinking lower and lower, plung-
ing deeper and deeper into the abyss Of
shame and vice, and crime, to find graves
at last in the Pottersfeld, and beyond
that grave of infamy, what then ? Whof
in the judgment of God, in the retribu-
tions of eternity, shall be held response
BILE for the destruction of these twenty
thousand souls Man of the world,
man of pleasure, sensualist, beware
Who shall answer for these twenty thou
sand lost souls Christian people,
priests of the alter Ministers of mer-
cy, beware At whose hands will Heav-
ell require an account of these twenty
thousand lost souls Mothers, whose
duty it is to watch over the opening in
tellect, the expanding mind, to guide tho
children God has given you in the right
way fathers, to whom your little ones
look for example in that which is right
brothers. ON whom younger sisters have
a right TO lean, sisters 10 whom is ep-
trusted the care Of the weak and unex-
pcrienced the confiding, beware There
is a record above that cannot lie, where
hidden things. every secret transgrcssion
is written, and God who looks upon it,
will measure ont just and holy retri-
button.
Here is Metropolitan Hall See tho
crowd pouring into the interior OF the
building. What attracts all these peo-
pie here Let us enter and see. 1t is
JULIEN's concert. Let US stand back
here on the outer edge Of this great
room, filling up like reservoir, with
this influx OF people.-Hark, the humid
red instruments are being tuned Wait
a moment. Now they burst in full vol
umes on the ear. The air is full of mu-
sio. Harmony is above, around, beneath
us-now deep and solemn, now sTft and
plaintive, Ike the wall of a mother ,ver
the white still corpse of her hearts dar-
ling--now loud and joyous, like the
shout of rejoicing and glad hosts-now
fierce and harsh like the charge of armed
squadrons crashing against the foe-now
roaring and booming along the arches
like the voice Of the thunder, and now
swelling on the car like the dull sound
of the Ocean in the distance In all
these changes there is no Gscofd, no jar
ring note tearing the car and stealing
away the charm of swee. sounds A
great man rs JULIEN, wonderful man
who can grasp these hundred strains,
changeful and capricious, as visions Of
the night, and weave them into perfect
harmony Wonderful man that can
gather the unlike sounds of all these
hundred instruments and shape them
into melody Wonderful achievements
Of human genius. Who says that this
tameing of discordant noises and bring
ing them into unison, charming the sem
ses by their united sweetness IS not evil
dence of progress, of the advancement
Of civilization, Of all things being carried
forward towards perfecubillty and as
similating the powers of men TO the at.
tributes Of Gods Look at that piping
picalo and that great brass Instrument
that sends forth sepulchral sound,
deep us the growl of the far of thunder.
How dissimilar in tone, yet each is as
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