If the thousand and one noisome crannies, nooks, and dens of this great city could be exposed to view, day after day, the body of many a missing man and woman might be found festering and rotting, or their bones bleaching, for want of decent burial. Where do the bodies come from that are fished up, bloated and disfigured, night after night, by the Water Police, in haunts of the docks, and from the slimes of the Hudson? It is fearful to think of men, influenced by liquor, who, with their gold watches, pocket-books, and other valuables, exposed in the most foolish manner, are to be seen, night after night, in the dens and hells of this great, sinful city. Many of these men are from far-off country villages and happy homes, and when thrown into our streets at night, under the flare of the gas lamps, and among crowds of showily dressed women, whose feet are ever downward into the abyss, it becomes almost impossible for them to resist the thousand and one meretricious temptations that are placed before them. THE HORROR OF A BREAKING DAWN. Instances may be related of how men disappear, and are never heard of to be recognized. A well-to-do person from Ohio, who had never visited New York before, pays a visit to this city, and stopping at a down-town hotel, sallies out in the evening in search of what he has been taught, by his limited course of reading to call "adventures." He believes, in his Ohio simplicity, that he will meet with a beautiful and rich young lady in New York, who, struck with his rural graces and charms, will at once accept his hand and farm. Well, he takes a look at the "Black Crook," or "White Fawn," or "Genevieve de Brabant," and, returning late to his down-town hotel, is struck by the beauty and grace of a female form that glides before him on his way thither. Pretty soon she makes a signal to him that cannot be mistaken, and our Ohio friend, rather astonished at the freedom of the aristocratic and well-bred ladies of the metropolis, but nothing loath, hastens to her side, and accompanies her to her richly voluptuous mansion in Bleecker, Green, Mercer, or Crosby Streets. In the watches of the night he awakens to find the aristocratic lady fastened on his throat, and a male friend of hers, with a villanous countenance, poising a knife for a plunge in his neck. The work is done quickly; a barrel well packed, or a furniture chest, placed in a carriage at night, can be taken up the Hudson River road, and there dropped in the river, and after a day or so the head of another dead man will be found eddying and floating around the rolling piers near the battery, his face a pulp, and no longer recognizable. The sun shines down on the plashing waters, but the eyes are sightless, and never another sun can dim their brilliancy or splendor. It is only another missing man, without watch, pocket-book, or money on his person. MISERY, SHAME, AND DEATH.