While this was going on here, similar scenes were passing in other parts of the city. At dark, some three or four hundred gathered around Dr. Cox's church, in Laight Street, discussing the conduct of the Abolitionists, but making no outward demonstrations calling for the interference of the police, until nine o'clock, when a reinforcement came yelling down Varick Street, armed with stones and brick-bats. These charged, without halting, so furiously on the police-officers, and the few watchmen stationed there, that, bruised and bleeding, they were compelled to flee for their lives. The next moment stones rattled like hail against the church, and, in a few minutes, the remaining windows were smashed in. The police rallied when they reached Beach Street, and hurried off a messenger to the City Hall for the military. In the meantime, loud shouts were heard in the direction of Spring Street, and with answering shouts the mob left the church, and rushed yelling like Indians to the spot. A vast crowd was in front of a church there, under the care of Rev. Mr. Ludlow, another Abolitionist, and had already commenced the work of destruction. They had torn down the fence surrounding it, and were demolishing the windows. Through them they made an entrance, and tore down the pulpit, ripped up the seats, and made a wreck of everything destructible without the aid of fire. The session-room shared the same fate, and the splintered wreck of both was carried in their arms, and on their shoulders, out of doors, and piled into barricades in the street on both sides of the building, to stop the anticipated charge of cavalry. Carts, hauled furiously along by the mob, were drawn up behind this, and chained together, making a formidable obstruction. They then rung the bell furiously, in order to bring out the firemen. The watch-house bell in Prince Street gave a few answering strokes, but information being received of what was going on, it ceased, and the firemen did not come out. It was now near eleven o'clock, when, all at once, an unearthly yell arose from the immense throng. Word had passed through it that the military was approaching. Pandemonium seemed suddenly to have broken loose, and shouts, and yells, and oaths arose from five thousand throats, as the men sprung behind their barricades. It was a moonless night, but the stars were shining brightly, and, in their light, the sheen of nearly a thousand bayonets made the street look like a lane of steel. The Twenty-seventh Regiment of National Guards, led by Colonel Stevens, had been sent from the City Hall, and their regular heavy tramp sounded ominously, as they came steadily on. The church-bell was set ringing furiously by the mob and there was every appearance of a determined resistance. As Colonel Stevens approached the first barricade, he halted his regiment, and ordered his pioneer guard to advance. They promptly obeyed, armed with their axes. A shower