TEE LAKE FBONT QUESTION. tetter from Timalhjr Wright, E.q. To the Editor of The Chicago Tribune: Sir: Ae your columns arc filled no w-a-days pvitkmatters of public interest, I desire space fur a few words about the proposed occupan cy by tbo three or more railroad companies of the lake front, cast of Michigan avenue, between Bandolph and Monroe streets, for a ■mammoth Union Passenger Station. Briefly, then I am tin favor of such occu pancy on fair terms to the city, or to the citizens of the entire city, who have a vested right, franchise, or casement, in those squares, and in the ground cast of them, as pnblic ground, to remain forever vacant of buildings.” Now-what aro fair terms for the surrender of these rights? Clearly nothing less than the fall value of those grounds for any bus iness purposes, or, in plain figures, not less ■-thimthreetimesthesumoffeped and attempt ed to ho enforced l>y special legislation, and by the courts, I won’t use your space in discussing the merits of that case under that legislation, hut will refer those interested to Judge Drummond’s opinion, which is not in danger of being reversed hy the United States Supreme Court, I think. I never ccold see why the citizens of Chi cago should be asked to sell to rich corpora tions valuable franchises at one-third of a fair price, and I cannot now perceive the propriety of choosing this hour of extremity and distress, and of our city’s great need to urge so one-sided a bargain; and that, too, by appeals so the self interest of those who, own ing lots in the vicinity of the proposed depot, are especially benefited; and by threats of removal from that neighborhood for the tim 'id and excited; and by such other argument and appliances as aro usually resorted to to cany such measureswith the public. Wo arc told that unless these corporations «et the consent of all parties at once, that some of them will remove their depots and business remote from that location, and so work a greater injury to the old business centre than the entire value of the three squares they w'ish to get. Well let them do so, then; other sections of the city will he correspondingly benefited, 'and the property in question can ho kept as park property forever, or sold at its full value for business purposes; fori dp not belief that it is in the power of all these railroad corporations or of any combination of business interests now to chance the business centre ofCUicago: nature hxed it in the first tilaec; large investments of every kind there =iud on all sides have so established it, and it will bo worse for those who mistakenly think that the centre of business can bo moved from its old haunts. It may and will spread as the cirv grows but from and about the old centre only. All our railroad companies and business men have heretofore wisely sought to get as to that biisinesa.ccntre as possible. Can anv of them afford now to give up such cen tral locations to their rivals T How is it in New\ork? Have those far un-town depots drawn away the great busi ness heart of that city from its old place? \ot only is this not so, but also this is so, that the strong up-towu tendencies due to the form of that long and narrow island be tween two wide and not bridged rivers have failed to move the centre of the heavy-whole sale and financial business one mile from its original natural site in two hundred yeare; all the movement there has been being only the growth and spread of business in one direction, because, commeucuig at the south end of Manhattan Island, it must grow ■north, if at all. It is not sb in Chicago: our ■narrow stream is well hrtdgedandtunnelled. Let North and AVest Side men make a note ofthat when asked to give an opinion on this SU ln C dcaling with this matter noir, cannot tlio proverbial “soullessness of corporation ignored and the question be seinedjust ly to all parties in the light of our great cal “fl said that these railroad companies cannot afford to pay more than ?bOO,OOO for this property for depot purposes, and that, ■therefore, they ought to have it rather than Jet them remove. Perhaps so; perhaps they can better afford to pay thrice that sum than so otherwheres and pay the price. Those riparian rights in connection with the outer harbor that the United States Government is building for the accommodation of our com-1 •merce are very valuable. Where on the lakes is there another 1,440 feet of such valuable ?Bnt then is a tcay out of this difficulty by which each party may get all they want, and by which every advantage sought lor may be obtained, except a profit of a million and a fcalf of dollars on a laud speculation, to be realized by the obtaining of those three squares for the sum offered; and 1 propose this method of settling the question. Let the city release to these corporations, for depot purposes, all its rights east of a hue drawn parallel to and 300 feet of the east line of Michigan avenue; or, in other words, the east part of the square Kandolph and Monroe streets, with all the riparian and other rights eastward to the dock lines of tho now outer harbor, thus paying the city for the whole one million of douars. ho donut the necessary additional legislation, if any is needed, can be obtained from Congress, our I Legislature, and onr now Council, to permit the city to accept this sum, and to vest in those corporations, upon paying tho stun to the city, tho fee of that property. In this day of adversity Congress and our Legisla ture will not haggle about Itma. It cannot make much difference to the railway companies whether the east line ql thert now depot is on the cast lino of Michi gan avenue or 200 feet further cast. Once located and the track arranged, the one site isinstasgood and convenient as the other: the filling of these half squares, and the con structing of some additional tracks outside of tho present ones, most of which will have to ho done by them iu any event if they get the property at all, is all the expense to bo incurred: Idling will ho cheap now, and ot the very best kind—calcined stones, broken bricks, and mortar mixed, with the dust and ashes of homes and fortunes of onr citi .zem., and almost literally cemented together ‘hv their sweat and blood. Lot ua feelbcro ivfter that a fair price was obtained lor all lll Lct it not ho said that the additional 200 feet cannot ho snared from the 2.000 feet of i harbor room, or tho fiOO feet of dockage on tho cast, for tho room tlms lost m east and west dimensions can easily be made gpod b\ extending the piers of the outer harbor southward far enough to enclose an addi tional area to that tlms taken.. Then let tho city.aftcr obtaining the noces sarp legislation, sell to our wholesale nicr-1 chants and capitalists tho west half of the three squares, at their market 'v alue, is not less than one and a half millions of dollars, leaving a proper street between the depot grounds and the half squares. Unless it is necessary for the railroad coni; panics to have a passenger house over bio feet in length, they should bo required to leave both Kandolph and Washington streets opeutothe lake for sanitary autf other rea sons. Michigan avenue property u ill bo ■worth more with these three blocks of n holo tßile houses ou tho east than if that depot flanked it there. The city will gain the tax ation of tho lots and buildings. What is to prevent these companies frem 'selling them three halt squares and realizing an their little speculation at once if they got the whole at tho price offered Is there any thing in tho proposals us now made, or in the case as made; up, to forbid their dome so? Perhaps tho money realized by the city from these “public grounds” should bo voted to park purposes in tho three divisions at the citv But whatever wise disposals made of it. we shall escape taxation for in tercst on eo much capital forever. 1 cry truly yours> Timothy M muirr. IVINKTKA, Nov. 15. better from J. P. Boot, K*q- To Editor of The Chicago Tribunt: Sin* A. fevr suggestions regarding luo “lake front v may not kc inappropriate at tbiß time. lithe railroad company can ho permitted to erect their depots between Monroe and Randolph, there will still he left for the use of the city nearly a mile of frontage on Michigan avonne, extending south to Park row. The cast and west streets should he extended throngh to the railroad tracks, and a *wido street laid out between the blocks nnd the track. This will give eight blocks, with a frontage of 5W feet on Michigan avenue, the same on the east side beside the frontage on the east mid west streets, ora total front of l.rcS feet to block. "OS feet in the eight blocks, hor busi ness narposcs this property will in a short ?-™l s hn worth $2,000 per foot, making the toSS. value of $25,405,000, This property conld ho leased at 5 per cent the Slro^ity^onh^S^in annmn, interest, Ac., thus saving kmldmg, x niucli every rear. TUo Si houses east of the l rauroa menso ground control the riparian right. tlje interest of million of dollars, it is a very I lc arable thing for a municipal corporation to have. Chicago, Kov. W. Jamks 1. hoot. To Chicago’* Girl*« DesMod*es, lowa, Kov. 13* “So toe it. Perish Bahol; arise Babylon,l rtomtnl»» like these rise the Innea thAt«hainast, AnStobolld up the future, Heaven shutters the past. And, ere tho smoke had arisen from the smoul dering city, the beautiful “Garden City” of the TV'est, the entire world responded Amen to the briT© words which Issued from the press of the afflicted city; and, catching somethin* of the imlrit of the grand editorials addressed to tho nf Chicago, I long to send a greeting to Se daughters 0 t Chicago,-to the girts who, we wlllhe Mate enough to grasp, with true, hands, the grand opportunity at tho .Tlnlvor that, when tho future hlstorl- Mnr.ffi c t the heroic mhom f »od- VOLUME 25. om pilgrims, not only the fathers shall deserve honorable mention, but the mothers and daugh tors as'well. Stow that the -whole country is llxing its atten tion upon Chicago, why may not this same city be come the Paris of tho Northwest,—the leader of fashion; and not tho mode of dress alone, but the fashion of tho hour,—the fashion, of industry, of economy, and of honest work I You owe it to your fathers, dear girls. How many gray-haired men, on that fcarnil night, were compelled to witness the earnings of a busy life destroyed,— those fathers 'vhoso indulgence has rendered your young lives perhaps too luxurious and idle. Now yours arc tho duty and tho privilege to assist in building the new home and earning the new fortune. Let no Chicago father have cause to re gret that his children are not all .boys. Moke it fashionable in Chicago for girls to work, and you will thus set a grand example for tho girlhood of tho West. Band together, and, in lieu of fashion able parties, organize reading and literary clubs, and crown her queen of Chicago girls who shall most cheerfully and faithfully perform her part in retrieving the fortunes of the oravc city. In view of tho fact of tho desolation and suffer ing which the fire-fiend has ipade in various parts of our country, extravagance in dress daring this winter of *7l would be deemed a crime against society. Our churches must be rebuilt; school-houses erected; homos rendered comfortable; a love of literature kept alive, if possible (us the tempta tion to more money-getting In our already too practical West greatly Increased); and In no way can we so cosily economize as in the matter of mere personal adornment. Far better, girls, deny yourselves many changes of raiment, and the variety of bonnets ana bows than to diminish your contribution to tho church, or to deny your selves good books. If, from tho ashes of Chicago, shall arise an earnest girlhood: if there shall bo a dethronement of tho tyrant Selfishness, and an enthronement of the Angel of Charity.—then, in deed shall tho light of that burning city illumin ate, and brighten, jmd glorify our great, broad West. Learn to. think, and then you must talk well; and one seldom stops to notice what n good conversationalist iccarx. Girls whose luxurious homes have melted away do not sit idly by, mourning over perished case and idleness; but, placing true hands in those of your fathers, husbands, and brothers, say to them, Come, wo together will rebuild our city, and then, indeed, will It be our home” The fashionable world cries out, Where shall wo go for cur fashions I Wo answer, “To Chi cago/* where bravo men and women arc making energy, economy, honest toll, and chanty glo riously fashionable. Not the elegantly-adorned idler, resting upon soft cushions in elegant equipage, shall be your queen; but the bonnic maiden who, in comf orta able walking-suit, trudges blithely homeward at nightfall, with father or brother, happy in tho knowledge that she has lightened their labors that day. Honest love, honest Borrow, Houe*t wort for tie day, honest hope fur the morrow; Are those sot worth more than the hand they moke weary, The heart they have saddened, tho life they leave dreary* Huah! the sevenfold heavens, to the voice of tbo spirit. Echo. He that o'crcomcth shall all things inherit.” Lizzie Boynton Haiuieht. JOHN SMITH’S PLAN FOB QUIET ING- TITLES. Office of John Burnt, Attornoy-at-Law, Solicitor in Chancery, and Proctor in Admiralty. Lobs of Proofs Entanglements of Titles Perfected. No. mis Fourth avenue. Chicago, Nov. 17,1571. To the Editor of The Chicago Tribune Siu: I regard this as a favoralilo opportuni ty for seeing my name printed in your valua ble newspaper, and for doing a little adver tising without the usual preliminary money arrangements at your counter. Nothing short of some public calamity like the cue which recently visited this city could have made it likely that you would print, or that any person would read when printed, any thing whatever from my pen. I, therefore, heartily sympathize with the atilictions of tho people of this city, in the destruction of their property, because, as hereinbefore indi cated, their loss is myopportuninity. I need hardly mention that the subject of which I propose to treat is land titles. I bring to the subject a mind thoroughly un biased and uninteresting. I never had any fee simple interest in any real estate, and the only easement I have ever had in any is one I now hold, consisting of a right of way on the public thoroughfares, and this I own iu common with the general public. My title to said easement is very complicated for one of its kind, being a paper title by pro scription. I was formerly a doctor, and I still write my own prescriptions, so that tbo title iu question never cost mo anything. I am now a lawyer by profession, as will more fully appearto you from ovidcucc which you may gather concerning my ‘sign, which, in the palmy days of. Chicago, perambulated from place to place owing to the exigencies I of mvself, and of my landlords, and I pray that such recollections of the inhabitants or this city, concerning the mcaiidenugs aim deviations of said my sign, as you may bo enabled to gather up, may bo made a part of this communication, as temungto show its value. In this connection I- desire, also, to say that I now have my pmee at Wo. 11,118 Fourth avenue, and that 1 kavo pur posely avoided placing any sign as to present whereabouts, at the place of my former of fice, well knowing that I must constant}!’ rely upon now clients for support. It appears to me, Mr. Editor, to ho useless to inquire in this connection how the nre originated, or whether tho locus in quo was insured, and, if insured, whether in a goon company, if any, and if in a good company whether it was “The Chicago Firemen’s” or tho Lumberman's.” AH such matters are foreign to tho issue; as foreign, A think—and I believe you will agree with me, hut if yon don’t it is no matter—as foreign, I was about to say, as tho Irishwoman that milked tho cow, 1 that, &c.ll regard it as certain that there I are in Chicago more separate lots of land than separate, people. It there are not, it is had. But it is well, for there .arc.. This is judicious, for this gives us a startmg-pmut, for wo now know that there are lots enough to go ’round. provided each man wants a lot. This should bo inquired into, ami it seems to mo it would bo well for this purpose to hire the men. who took tho census iu St. Louis, they are good at finding people. But there are many men who each want several lots, and have a good title to theml; and perhaps they ought to have them, 1 dont know. Their host way is to have the lots sold for tuxes, and hid them in themselves at private auction from tho tax-title man. if.ho gives I them notice, and if ho does not give them I notice, lot tho thing go. fco far .ns I I know, there aro uo -men who desire to show no title whatever, to any lot. and if they are to have uo title, tho Statute oi Limitatious should not bar them by name from ever acquiring such title, hut perhaps a statute removing their disabilities wou»a be vary satifactory to them. :fnd well enough in its places. But they need a speedy adjudi cation as to their want of such title, lo such persons, tho establishment of their .rights should bo made both cheap and. inex pensive, and perhaps a separate tribunal might ho established for them, or they might i bo permitted to proceed before tho hire and Police Commissioners: but tins would neces-1 surilv postpone their proceedings, for it would he necessary to wait till hehm should have supplanted Gund, for, of course, Lund would he obnoxious, tho number of obnox-l tiousers to him having so recently been ascer- j ta iTu^*right here, as it were, the claims of 1 minors, married women, John entwortn. Matt Lallin. Dr. Foster, and-other persons under disabilities, incapable of taking care of themselves, and Scammon and persons non compos mentis and otherwise, intervene, and I know of uo wav as to them as cfloctuai as tho plau proposed by one of my professional brethren of tho Chicago bar. ot establishing a Domesday hook. And tho only objection that occurs to mo to this plan, tho only serious objection, is tho expense of making the hook. But with our new Board of County Commissioners who have not yet been ac cused of being dishonest, with a now County Treasurer with a first rate personal credit, to manage tho thing, and with such suggestions as may bo furnished by the originator of this plan, and bv sending a Commissioner to view tho original Domesday hook, and to confer with tho makers of it, and with powers to act, and persona and stationery and vice versa, tho tiling ia feasible and should .be I done immediately if not sooner, and. I think j that Mr. Judmou M. W. Jones, if he is well, could make tho book, and 1 think perhaps any of our bookbinders could make tho book. But it ought to ho well made, and when made, it should ho kept at tho tunnel crib, at night, for safety. And as the drowning of the I records would not ho much more desirable than tho burning of them, the present Re corder, who ia tho keener of the records, ought not to he permitted to go on tho crib when-the hook is there, and the hook ought not to bo sent there when ho is there. As the book is being put on the crib he ought to jump on tho boat, hut for greater safety two steamboats should ho used, to avoid all *^*But, r ahovo all, the rights of parties should 1 he inquired into. It is ten chances to one that they haven’t any rights? Those that arc in possession should remain so, unless otherwise, and then and in that case people must act. in accordance with the sentiments ■which Providence has implanted in the •‘dentils of their moral consciousness.” Peo ple should sit down on their rights, but they should sleep on their loft side, for m law it is always dangerous to sleep on yarn- rights. I How the law would -afloat a man that has left the State, or one that is now eroding the Mississippi outward bound, or inward hound, or Mnvorecly. or both. I don’t know and I don’t care. But it should he leniently con strued toward a man that is going to Arkan- It should bo stated, either in the preamble or body of the act, that no such act would or should have passed, except in a tern bio This wiiolo subject, then, Mr. Editor, is perfettly plain, and our path lies clearly be- fore us, as I have pointed it out to you. Thanking you and my follow-citizens for this opportunity. I remain, John* Smith, Of the Chicago liar, 11113 Fourth avenue. The Olnticol Prince of Rnnla —A History by Himself—HU Earl 7 Trials for the Sake of Llbcrij and music* From the New York Herald, Not. 13, Apropos i«. tho anticipatedanivalof Pnnce Alexis as a repicsentative of the present gov erning family of Hussia. it may bo stated that on Uis arrival here ho will bo met by a prince of nearly equal rank with his own, and whose family has played apart, and a great part, in the history of that great kingdom. Princo Gallitzeu, now staying at tho Metropolitan Hotel, is tho nephew of the scholarly Dimitri Gallitzcn, one of the ablest Ambassadors over sent by Hussia to Prance, and the descend ant of a race whoso ancestry can lie traced back to the days of Gedemin, Princo Lithuriana and Jagiellos, His history is at the same time romantic, re markable, and exciting; and the same in dividual, nThy do you sav it was cerebral apoplexy?” I asked. “There are no particulars here/ 7 Glimmer scorned somewhat disconcerted for a moment. Recovering himself, however, ho replied, with a mysterious air, that he un derstood tho nature of tho case. It was just Thackeray’s case overagain. Thosymp-, toms clearly indicated cerebral apoplexy. But there are no symptoms given.” I re torted, somewhat impatiently; there is nothing bnt the bare fact of the death. All tho circumstances of tho case sustain my theory,” persisted my companion, exhibit ing a singular mixture of confusion and dog matism in his manner as well as in his lan guage* “Yon may call it pavaly.ste of the brain, if you plcaso: I choose to call it cere bral apoplexy. It’s all tho same thing, i What’s lu anamo I ought to understand it,, for I’ve made a special study of it—read no end of medical books on the subject. It’s the way I’m going oft* myself. Fact is, Fin liable to stop out at auy moment, aud only hold on up to this time by a mere concentrated eflort of will.” _ I eyed the speaker narrowly, ui doubt whether ho had lost his modicum of wits, or had been indulging in too frequent potations during the evening. Ho divined my though®, and, shaking his head,* said, with a melan choly smile: So, I am neither mad nor intoxicated. speak positively, because I have given much study and thought to the subject. You re member how Thackeray died, while working hard ou his Dennis Duval You remember that ho went to bed perfectly well and was found dead in the morning, having breathed his last at 5 o’clock, or just before day break?” “I know that ho retired (at least it was so reported), to all appearance, in his usual health, and that ho died during the night., But I am not aware that it has over been as certained, or that there were any means of ascertaining, at what hour he passed away, inasmuch as no one occupied the room with him, or saw him during the interval between retiring and being found dead at a late hour in the forenoon.” “I will explain to you at some other time,” returned Gummor, with the same dog matic and mysterious air as before, “bow it is that Lam able to fix tho hour of his death, I will merely ask you if you evemave picture dreams,” I told him that I did not oven understand wlmt ho meant by tho expression. «I trust.” ho resumed, with much solemni ty. “that it may be long before you will learn what they are from your own experi ence. But that explanation, too. I must re- I serve until another occasion: for I am at this moment conscious of certain symptoms 'which warn me that, unless I retire snecdi-| I ly, I shall not ho able to sleep at all until i near morning; in which case I shall myself be in danger of one of those fatal visions, m the midst of whose sinister beauty Thack-1 i erav and Dickens passed away,” Having delivered himself of this incoin- I prebeusiblo si»ccch, bo bade mo good-night and departed, leaving mo in grave doubt as to whether it would not bo my first doty in the morning to present bis case to the Com nnssioners of Lunacy. j l saw no more of my fellow-lodger for 1 nearly a week after this conversation. It had quite passed from myrecollectiou, when, ouo Saturday night, I heard a tap at my door, which lat once recognized, as his. As he en tered, in compliance with my invitation, I saw that he looked qo less gloomy than at our last interview. i Panl, old fellow,” ho said, I want your opinion on a question of casuistry J? “A question of casuistryf” 1 answered, looking up from my writing, in some anr “Prcciselv.” returned my visitor; “but one that is purely abstract in its character. Still, it interests mo, audl want to got your judg ment on it.” “Such discussions qro ratnee out of my line.” I said. I never studied at tho Sor honne, and do not oven possess tho parch ment of a Yankee theological seminary. But i if you choose to make mo yonf father-confes sor, you shall have tho benefit of such ethical perspicacity as I am possessed of.” Pshaw I exclaimed GUnmicr.tnervonsly. I I’m not in the confessional. Didn’t I assure i vou that tho case is a hypothetical one T»” 1 I told him—not, I fear, without some unin tentional show of impatience—to go on land state his question. Ho seemed hurt at my manner; but, beyond a half-dcpte catiug. half-reproachful glance, ho took no I notice of it. Placing his feet on the front i round of his chair, and embracing his knees 1 with his clasped bands—his favorite attitude i when about to enter upon any subject which ho deemed of more than ordinary importance i —ho sat, slowly swaying hia head backward I and forward, with an air of profound reflcc i tiou. “This is tho point,”he said, after a mo imont’s silence, speaking in a low tone, and I without lifting his eyes: “If a man nna him i self in imminent peril of death (without his own complicity or procurement, mind you),! i and* has it in ms power to save his Ufo uy; i making an effort, is he to ho held chargeable with the guilt of suicide iu case ho declines ,to make i purely an abstract and hypothetical one, you i will remember—on which Bwant your judg-1 exaggerated solemnity of Glimmer’s manner ana voice, as ho stated this preposter- oua case of conscience, appealed so forcibly to mv sense of the ludicrous, that I experienced no small difficulty iu reatrainingmylaughter. X could not help thinking that the argument ,of the two clowns in Hamlet on the thesis; “Is she to he buried in Christian burial that wilfully seeks her own salvation t” and, for an instant a parody on the sage conclusion, Axgal>he {hat is not guilty -of. Ida-own NUMBER 104; death, shortencth not hia own life,** wasr'cm* the tip of my tongue, I am very, glad now that 1 did not yield to the temptation to ’in dulge in any sach pleasantry. As soon as I felt that I had recovered suffi cient command of my faoial muscles to trust myself to speak without danger of an explo sion, I repliedwith suitable gravity, suggest ing, as on analogy .calculated to throw some light upon the question;* the case of a man who stands by and secs a murder done which he could have prevented if ho had chosen. I don’t know," said Glimmer, after au in terval of thoughtful sileuco, “what it would be before an earthly tribunal. I can’t say whether an indictment could ho framed upon it as murder, or manslaughter, or homicide, at common law, or under the criminal stat utes. But Tvs no doubt whatever that, in forv conscicnticr, the spectator in the case you supx>ose would bo guilty of murder, as uar iiceps criminte, on tho legal principle that he who has it in his power to prevent an act, and docs not. consents to it.” “Does not tho same principle furnish a so- lotion of your question of casuistry t ’l! asked. I He uttered a sound between a sigh and a groan, and said ho didn’t see clearly how he could get round that wav of puttiugit. Then, after sitting a few minutes with his head in his hands, ue looked up, and abruptly added: .“I think I promised you, some evenings since, to explain my reason for insisting that Thackeray and Dickens passed away at about’ 0 o’clock m the mopniug? I nodded assent, and ho proceeded: “You have heard of tho old-womanish tra dition, that dying men find it easier to shake oft the bondage of the tlesh at tho going out of the tide. Medical experience proves, that, m chronic diseases, tho greater number of; deaths occur just before dawn. This is cmi-1 uently true of braiu diseases, and of all those I related oases where death results from an ox -1 baustion of tho vital power, through ovor work, excessive excitement, or nervous pros l tration. It is at tho hour I have named that i tho life-foreo is ;at its lowest ebb, and suc cumbs most readily to tho assault of opilejßv, or paralysis, or of the fatal lethargy that comes in those vividly beautiful picture dreams, for which medical science has as yet found no name, and of which it has taken uo sufficient cognizance. Nine-tenths of those who dio in this way expire in their sleep, lu many cases, if a friend were at hand to waken tho sleeper when tho attack comes on, or if ho were to be awakened by some acci dental noise, he might, by tho use of a few simple precautions, prolong his life for many years; for the shock which proves fatalto the man wrapped in deep sleep, when the system is passive and relaxed, would bo victoriously repelled were it armed with all its waking energies. Men who do brain work, and who nro on the shady side of for ty, should be on their guard against this in sidious enemy. They beware of 5 o’clock n. in., for it is a perilous hour. Do you hud. yourself unable to sleep, when you retire for tho night, exhausted with your day’s work! Do you, in vain, turn from one side to tho other! Does youi brain persist in working when you would fain have it rest Do old saws and scraps of rhyme, re peat themselves in yonrmemory with weari some iteration, defying vonr utmost efforts to silence them Thou, I sav to yon. beware! You will he sure to sleep at last. It is only a question of time; for, soon or late. Nature will assert her rights. The boll tolls one, and your braiu is still feverish and restless; it is still active, and fertile with thronging fancies that never come by the ibroad light of day. Two! and your eyelids are not yet weighed down by sleep. Three! I and you are now composing a story or a I poem, which yon know will have faded from yonr memory* in tho morning. as frost-work on tho pane vanishes at the rising of the sun. You long for same mental telegraph by which these bright conceptions might ue arrested in their flight—for some photographic pro cess by which they might be seized and pre served. Four! and now, at last, you feel tho drowsy spell creeping over you. You can sleep now, if you will but surrender yourself to tho influence that is scaling yonr eyes and numbing your senses. But, be ware I Tho fatal hour of deficient vitality is at hand. Sleep now is fraught with deadly peril. Since you have been wakeful so long, it is wiser and safer to protract yonr vigil until the shadows of night shall have been chased awuy, and tho golden wpou your casement, and the golden streaks upon your walls, announce that tho life-sustaining sonl of Nature Ims dispelled the shadows, and is again renovating tho vital forces of all aui mate things. Then you may sleep in safety: but, if you yield now. there is danger that yon may never wake.’’ 1 stared at Glimmer in blank amazement, as he poured forth this strange rhapsody, in a monotonous chant, beating time with his bead to tho measured cadence of his voice. "Whatever lingering doubt I may have had, up to this time, in regard to his mental con dition, was now resolved. “And you don’t know,” he resumed, alter a moment s pause, what 1 moan by‘pictnrc dreams.’ I will tell you. Among the earlier symptoms of cerebral disease is tho occur rence of dreams in which the moat vivid and beautiful pictures of natural sceueiy are pre sented to t lie vision of tho sleeper. Scenes more lovely than painter or poet ever por- j trayed, landscapes bathed in the light thas never shone on land or sea.’ pass in panorani- 1 ic show, as distinct in outline, as aellnito in color. ;us any that the waking eye ever 1 rested upon. These picture-dreams dif- 1 for from the normal dreams ef health in this; there is nothing I vague or confused about them, nothing that, [wavers and fades us yon gaze. Gradually 1 the dreamer is impressed with the unearthly beauty of tho scene, and the suspicion dawns upon film that ho is dreaming. But at the same time ho becomes conscious that ho has the power of election wheueverho will awoke or prolong his dream. If the experience is novel to him, and he has not yet learned to suspect tho deadly peril of the situation, he declines the effort of volition necessary to dispel tho lovely illusion, and briug himself back to the world of phenomena which wo call real.’ As he yields himself to the spell; his power to break it diminishes and the I consciousness that ho is dreaming is lost in the reality of the vision. Such is the hegiuniug of tho ‘picture dream,’ to which the majority of brain workers who overtax themselves, i become liable at about the ago of forty-live. What is the end of it? Suddenly tho shining river and tho supernal landscape are over -1 shadowed by storm-clouds, and enveloped in I gloom Your dream is pervaded by a dim at- I mosphere of horror.' Black, bottomless gulfs 1 yawn at your feet, or you stand trembling at the verge of dizzy heights, or gigantic ogres of hideous aspect pursue yon. Tho shadows thicken around and over tho landscape of your dream. Do you know what that moans? It means that the vital force is succumbing. It means that tho last enemy is grappling with you. It means that unless yon arouse yourself now by a mighty effort of the will, vou will never wake, f*r these picture dreams are tho avant-courriere of Death.’’ Aud you make so much «f a nightmare, Isold, **whcu wo know that a late supper, or a lit of indigestion may produce it Why do vou not write a dream-book “‘Sneer as you may,” returned he. “such a book, written from a philosophical stand- Eoint, would bo a valuable contribution to uman knowledge. Do you remember the sayiug of Erasmus: Somnia sunt alia dicina, aiio alatafieo, alia nahiralia’—some dreams come from God, some from the devil, some from natural causes? Resolving- the first two categories iuto the last, and interpreting I ‘natural causes’in tho widest sense, the apothegm of Erasmus is substantially equiv alent to that of Goithe, which declares that our dreams hare a certain connection with j our spiritual and physical condition, our character, aud *our destiny. But the phe nomenon, which I have described to yon. is not a nightmare, which has its scat in a dis ordered stomach; whereas, tho picture dream results from an overtaxed or softening brain.” I had perceived, for some time past, that Glimmer, who was naturally of a vivacious and sanguine temperament, seemed to he steadily sinking into a state of morbid dejec tion. This I attributed mainly to the chagrin and disappointment caused by the rejection of a tragedy—or, more properly speaking, a tragic melodrama—whienhe hud ottered, some months before, to the management ,of our principal theatre. Ho had bestowed great pains upon this play, and hod based upon it expectations of tho most extravagant charac ter. Nothing could shake his confidence that it would prove a tremendous success; and tho copyright of it was to make his fortune. His Elan was,,to allow it to be first brought out ero; after which, armed with tho splendid notices which it would receive from an in telligent and appreciative press, he would take it East, and command bis own terms from rival managers, eagerly competing for the privilege of producing it. When, after i months of labor, the finishing touches hadl been laid on. and Glimmer waited upon the manager with bis manuscript, the Matter up- 1 clincdevcntoread.it, and, when urged to glance over the first act, replied by recom mending the author to “take uto the melo deon he had been accustomed to scribble for.” On applying to another manager, ho was courteously received, with the promise that his manuscript should be read and passed upon in a lew days. At the end of two months, he was informed that the piece I would not be “a taking one; that it hadn’t enough “business in it;” that it wasn’t suited to the company, and that it would cost an enormous sum to bring it ont. When Glim mer suggested tho possibility of making such alterations as would remedy these difficul ties, tho maunager shook his head and frank ly declared that he saw no available material in it. This was a terrible blow, from the effect of which the mortified author had never recovered. Ho was a changed map, from that day tho buoyancy of hjs spirit, which had sustained him under many similar rebuffs, seemed to bo,- at Iwt,’exhausted.. He grew ton years older, in a week, ana sank gradually into a condition of chip nip despondency, the '-worst feature, of which was its quiet meekness. beheve. how over, that he,still, retained .sufficient elas ticity to recover from too effect pointment. Perhaps I should exprfcss my- self more accurately ■were I to soy I believe hia character too volatile-to.aduut.of .lus re- Reiving aTTaatin g impressioirfroinranTOCcur rence of this kind, however painful at the time. My knowledge of medical science was not sufficient to inform rao whether there .'im was, in fact, any form of cerebral disease characterized by the symptoinafifl described; hut 1 had little uoubt that his notions in re* gard^to^-what 1 he- ‘Called picture-dreams” were merely fanciful, and that his singular disposition to dwell upon the subject result ed from a morbid condition of mind, which •y woaldsoon pass away. In order to change the subject, X asked him what he was working upon. “Nothing.” ho replied, “but my regular weekly drudgery i neverattempt any thing more ambitious.” “And all because a prejudiced manager re fused to read your play,” I said. “Ybirfonretthe other manager, who read it, and declined it. And I think ho wasright. I perceive, now, that the-play is a failure,” he added,-withraUlgh: “andAwhafc- is more, that I am myself a complete failure, fetrange, that I.should have been,so -long indisciiver ing it; but it is well to awaken from vain il lusious, even so tardily* .To- know the sober truth_abont ourselves,Js_wholesonie, how ever painful.”" “\ou aro taking credit to yourself for simply giving way to a morbid mood,” I said. Those two managers do not consti tute a tribunal of a final appeal on literary questions. Send your play to New York, be fore you renounce your own judgment in favor of your churlish critic.” “Their judgment has become mine,” ho persisted. “My eyes are opened, and now see clearly, though too late, that X made a fatal blunder when I entered upon a literary career. I had no vocation to it. After pottering away twenfev years of my life, what have I accomplished? Certainly nothing that I can recall with complacency. The truth is. that I mistook aspiration foe the power of achievement, and rashly inferred that, be cause I possessed the taste and sensibility requisite to a vivid appreciation of genius, X must be a genius myself.” This spirit of sad resignation seemedto mo a more alarming symptom than any 1 had yet witnessed. Hadhe asserted himself,.and railed against his critics; had he complained of lack ox appreciation, as ho had used to do. uud talked confidently of what bo would yet accomplish, his case would have seemed more hopeful. But a broken spirit admits of no cure. On tlio Sunday mornmg succeeding this conversation I slept late, and it was half past 10 o’clock when 1 issued from my room. As I stepped into the hall, I saw a young man rapping at Glimmer’s door. 1 had neard. the sound twice before, while engaged in completing my toilet, and I now recognized in tno person knocking a friend of Glim mer’s who was in the hooit of calling for him occasionally of a morning, to accompanyjiim to breakfast. ‘•Can you tell me,” he asked, Mr. Glimmer has gone out t 7l I replied that X had not heard him: and paused, at the head of the stairs, while ho knocked again. There was no answer. Wo looked at each other a moment, in grave silence. Ho never turns bis key in tho lock,” I said; *“you had hotter look in.” He hesi tated. 1 advanced, and, opening the door gently, entered tbo room. “He is not awake yet,” said his friend, who had followed me. Wo had better let him sleep, for he was up very late last night, and was in very poor spirits; rest will do him good.” Uo was lying on his left side, with his face turned toward us, perfectly still. I listened a moment, but could not hear his breathing. 1 approached the bed, and could look at him attentively. His countenance wore a more calm ana restful look than. 1 had over seen there. Tho shadow of a smile lingered around the slight ly parted lips, and gave to tho mouth an chin an expression suggestive of a weary acknowledgement of weakness and an ap peal for the charitable judgment of tbo strong. His right arm drooped ovor the side of tho bed, from beneath the coverlet. I was about to touch the wrist, when my eyes fell upon a scrap of paper on tho small table at tho head of the bed, on which I sawmy name, in large large characters. It ran thus Dear Old Paul; I rise to scrawl these few lines, to prevent misapprehension in case any thing should happen to me. Von remember our last conversation, and I want to have you un derstand that I distinctly agree with you. I have had a bad night, and now feel that I shall sleep at last. I feel, too, I cannot honestly say I fear) that I shall have a picture-dream. In that case. I shall endeavor to arouse myself at the first pre monition of danger. This is written that your re membrance of me may not bo clouded by a hate ful suspicion. I feel deliciously drowsy, and so peaceful! Is there any thing sweeter than rest to the weary 1 Yours, P. G.“ I laid my hand upon tho forehead, and fonud it cold. 1 felt his wrist, and it was P1 ‘‘Poorfollo"' ms menu, inmming iw uih Handkerchief, 4 what a feverish, un satisfactory life ho had of it T Happy sleeper !*’l said to myself, as I glanced once more at tho countenance, so ex pressive of restful content; “he has his wish. Ho is not to he pitied.” From tho Sew York World.'Nov. i 5. The smoko from tho smouldering embers of Chicago has hardly been dissipated when there comes from beyond tho water intelli gence that another “City of the Lake” has all but suffered tho fate of its American sis ter, to which it bears so close a resemblance. Genova, if not as complete a waste as Chi cago, has so narrowly escaped it as to afford almost a parallel to our unparalleled calami ty. Private despatches received hero yes terday describe tho city as still at tho mercy of the flames, and the citizens, although reso lute, appalled by a disaster which Europe is little prepared to meet. Some of tho finest quarters of tho citv have been destroyed, in cluding its Sherman and Trcmont Houses. Tho full extent of tho calamity has not yet. been ascertained, and cannot no estimated for sonic days. Fortunately Genova offers natural barriers to the iirogress of the lianics which will likely take away from the extent of the dis aster. It is situated on tho slopes of two hills which are divided by the Rhone, which lin its course from tho lake forms two islands, on one of which a portion of tho town is built. On tho other of these islands isahandsomo promenade. Tho islands and the two principal parts of tho city are con nected with a tine suspension bridge. Tho streets are wide and spacious.. Tho public buildings include tho Catholic Cathedral (Mgr. Slcmiillods). tho Hotel do Villo, tho University (founded by Calvin and Beza), the Hotel do la Conronno (which has been burnt), tho Hotel do VEcu, tho museums of art and natural history, the public library, containing 30,000 volumes, and mauy valuable manuscripts. Tho largest sec -1 tiou of tho city is on the left bank of tho river. The Quartier do St. Gervais, on tho right bank, is tho seat of tho manu factures and the residences of tho humbler classes. Tho Quarticr des Cargoes is tho fashionable section. Tho manufactures of tho town are world famous. The population of the canton of which it is tho capital is about 01.000, Including 51,000 Protestants, 20,000 Catholics, and a few hundred Jews. If it were admissible to trace a historical or social contrast between a city which has a history older than tho Christian era, as well as social surroundings long established and widely connected, and a mushroom city of yesterday, wit h its society in a metamorphie if not a wholly chaotic condition, it would uot bo difficult to discover many points of re semblance between tho centre of Swiss com mercial and mental activity and the great commercial centre of tho West, beside tho facts that both arc cities of tho lakes, and that both have suffered from that enemy which both, of all other cities existing, should havobeenbest prepared to fight. Few towns of Europe have a more intercst -1 ing or varied history than this city, which; ha ring passed through so mauy trials, now undergoes tho ordeal of fire. A hundred names rise to tho lips when Genova is men -1 tioned—names famous in letters, in arms, in criticism, diplomacy, politics, and theology, saints and sinners, heresiarchs and martyrs, Sredcstinarians and latitndinarians, ortho ox believers and incorrigible skeptics, re -1 formers and believers in Rome, iafallibilists and haters of tho Scarlet Lady, friends of imperialism and admirers of a universal re public, members of tho Peace Society and comc-outers of all kinds,by no means forget ting tho arbitrators of tho little trouble be tween these States and Great Britain. Gen eva is not a town of last week, or of the month of October. In the second century before Christ it was of sufficient importance to at tract the attention of Rome—the legions of which made it their own—and over since. Romo, Pagan and Papal, has had its eyes on this important centre—political, commercial, social, and religious. Of tho stormy history of this capital during all tho period from tho days of Charlemagne down to the Reforma tion and thence to-day almost everyona knows something. In war it has become tho object of attack of tho German, tho Italian, and tho Gaul, and with varying fortune it has generally returned to its old love—a re publican form of government and politi cal association with Switzerland. In religion 'it has been a cen tral' point of the light between Cal vinism and Catholicism, and at the pres ent day this fight is carried on with as great bitterness as in tho days of the Prince Bishops and Calvin and William Farel. Merle d’Aubigne on one side and Mgr. Mer millod on tho other are fair types of tho con test in which they are so eminent leaders. It is a.curious incident of this quarrel that, the most accurate and tho earliest news of Romo and of Catholicism is new to be ob tained through the agencies of this capital of Calvinism and free thought. Of the great names whom business or leis ure have associated with this city and tho delightful region that surrounds it, mention may ho made of Francis of Sales, Calvin, Jeon Jacques Rousseau, Beza, Madame do Stael, Voltaire, Gibbon. Merle d’Anbigne. Menuillod, Byron, Shelley, John Knox—who ’was enrolled a citizen of Geneva—Xecxer on r own statesmen Gallatin, Beranger, Casanbon, Maria Louise,. Josephmo. Sir Humphrey Daw SismouoJ» and Dnmont» and the enu- Sent scientific scholars Do Luc, Do Saussure, Bonnet, Huher, and Do Candolle. It may ho mentioned as a curious fact in the history of immigration that, while tho Irish have emigrated from their homes to all parts of tho world, the Gcnovois wereonco anxious to colonize portions of Ireland. In 1783 a thousand of them applied to the Irish Pariiament for permission and assistance to settle in the Green Isle. Both were granted— the aid to the extent of £3o,ooo—and in 17SS an advance-guard invaded Waterford to found hew Geneva. They.spent £30,000 and abandoned the scheme. whether 4:15 a. m. THE SWISS CHICAGO. ;d