There are many bridges now in use upon our railroads in no way better than those at Ashtabula and Tariffville, and which await only the right combination of circumstances to tumble down. There are, by the laws of chance, just so many persons who are going to be killed on those bridges. There are hundreds of highway bridges now in daily use which are in no way safer than the bridge at Dixon was, and which would certainly be condemned by five minutes of competent and honest inspection. More than that, many of them have already been condemned as unfit for public use, but yet are allowed to remain, and invite the disaster which is sure to come. Can nothing be done to prevent this reckless and wicked waste of human life? Can we not have some system of public control of public works which shall secure the public safety? The answer to this question will be, Not until the public is a good deal more enlightened upon these matters than it is now. It has been very correctly remarked, that, in order to bring a disaster to the public notice, it must be emphasized by loss of life. The Ashtabula bridge fell, and killed over eighty persons; and a storm of indignation swept over the country, from one end to the other. No language was severe enough to apply to the managers of the Lake Shore Railroad; but if that very bridge had fallen under a freight-train, and no one had been injured, the occurrence would have been dismissed with a paragraph, if, indeed, it had received even that recognition. In February, 1879, a span one hundred and ten feet long of an iron bridge on the Chicago and Alton Railroad at Wilmington fell as a train of empty coal-cars was passing over it, and three cars were precipitated into the river, a distance of over thirty feet. No one was injured. Not a word of comment was ever made in regard to this occurrence. Suppose, that, in place of empty coal-cars, the train had consisted of loaded passenger-cars, and that one hundred persons had been killed. We know very well what the result would have been. Is not the company just as much to blame in one case as the other? On the night of the 8th of November, 1879, one span of the large bridge over the Missouri at St. Charles gave way as a freight-train was crossing it, and seventeen loaded stock-cars fell a distance of eighty feet into the river. Two brakemen and two drovers were killed. This bridge, says the only account that appeared in the papers, did not break apparently, for the whole span "went down" with the cars upon it. It could hardly make much difference to the four men who were killed, whether the bridge broke down, or "went" down. Not a word of comment was ever made in the papers outside of Missouri in regard to this disaster. Suppose, that, in place of seventeen stock-cars, half a dozen passenger-cars had fallen from a height of eighty feet into the river, and that, in place of killing two brakemen and two drovers, two or three hundred passengers had been killed.