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THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVID
UALIST.
LABOR AND THE RAILROADS.
CONFESSIONS OF A RAILROAD SIGNAL
MAN. Illustrated with photographs of typical
wrecks. HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
Boston and New York

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN
INDIVIDUALIST

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN
INDIVIDUALIST

BY
JAMES O. FAGAN

BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
(Cbe Siitier^itie J^xt0 Cambtiboe
1912

COPYRIGHT, I912, BY JAMES O. FAGAN

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Published November igia

CONTENTS
I. Beginnings in Scotland  1
II. Life Problems in South America ... 32
m. Travel and Adventures in Africa . . 63
IV. Impressions of New England in the
Eighties  96
V. Men and Conditions on the Railroads . . 128
VI. The Individual in Modern Industry . . 164
VII. A Study of Three Presidents .... 195
Vni. The Riddle of the Railroads .... 220
IX. Let Industry be Free  255
Index  285

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN
INDIVIDUALIST I
BEGINNINGS IN SCOTLAND
In the United States to-day the individualist
is beset with adversaries who are misrepresenting
his mission and belittling his importance. Yet his
vital relationship to the highest possibilities and
to the noblest aspirations of the race is unmistak
able. The individual is the personal, that is to say,
the principal, factor in progress of every descrip
tion. He is the parent of ideas, the originator of
plans, the organizer and director of social and
industrial enterprises. He dreams, and society
wakes up and finds itself famous. True, society
reacts on the individual, inspires multitudes of
individuals to praiseworthy exertion and develop
ment, and thus the commonwealth flourishes.
The individualist has a message for the present
generation. While a large and influential section
of public opinion at the present day is persistently
emphasizing the central significance of the social
stream and the comparative helplessness of the
human bubbles adrift upon its surface, perhaps

2 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
the life-story of one who has other and very dif
ferent ideas of progressive civilization may, at
least, be thought worthy of a patient hearing.

Originally, the family stock of the writer came
from the Island of Skye, one of those desolate
rock-ribbed isles of the Inner Hebrides, where
even to-day the greater portion of the Gaelic-
speaking inhabitants are crofters, who support
themselves on fish, and inhabit miserable huts
with the fireplace in the middle of the floor. Con
tinually facing starvation and the fury of the ele
ments, progress with these people is almost out of
the question, but when they are once driven by
chance or compulsion to other and more propi
tious climes, the rigor of such primeval training
stands the sturdy emigrant in good stead, and
as a rule, he is able to give a very good account of
himself. While this glance at heredity is by no means
out of place, my story properly begins in far-away
India. In the earliest days of the British East
India Company, in the buccaneering and filibus
tering period, my progenitors emigrated from
Scotland and found employment in the Com
pany's civil and military service. A number of
them fell victims to the climate and the wars;
later, one of my uncles was a physician of note in

BEGINNINGS IN SCOTLAND 3
Calcutta; another was on the bench; while two
or three of the present generation are out there
to-day, engaged in commercial pursuits.
My father was one of the battle-scarred sur
vivors of the Indian Mutiny. Until his death he
was a pensioner of the East India Company or its
successor, the British Government. Just in what
year he returned to Scotland I am unable to de
termine. I have no available dates or records in
regard to this period of my story; but this is of
little consequence, as my purpose is neither sta
tistical nor genealogical.
Be this as it may, I was born in the town of
Inverness, Scotland, in the year 1859, and shortly
after that date my father removed his establish
ment to a small estate, which he had inherited
from a relative, in the neighboring county of Ross.
At the time when I first began to get a glimpse of
myself and my surroundings, the family consisted
of twelve boys. Then my mother died and several
of the older boys went out into the world, one into
the army, one into the navy, and two into the
Indian Civil Service. In this way, at the time I
refer to, the home-colony in Ross-shire was re
duced to eight. But now, and very briefly, I must
locate myself more definitely.
My home, during my earliest schooldays, was
quite close to the town of Fortrose, which is a
royal and parliamentary borough in Scotland, in

4 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
the county of Ross. The little town is situated
on the north side of the Moray Firth, just oppo
site Fort George. The neighborhood is particu
larly rich in romantic scenery, and the nature of
my beginnings in this far-away corner of the
world will not be understood in its proper signifi
cance without a brief glance at these surroundings.
The very first information, historically speak
ing, that is imparted to a Highland youngster
relates to Wallace and Bruce, and the long line of
fighting Scotsmen in every country that followed
in their train. To him every tartan — in fact,
every clan, loch, stream, and mountain — has its
fighting history. Every boy in the Highlands lives
in the midst of these individualistic, combative,
and romantic associations. On a clear day, from
any elevation in the neighborhood of Fortrose,
one can easily overlook the hills of Inverness-shire.
The region appears to be densely wooded for the
most part, and here, in the possession of enormous
estates, live to-day the lordly descendants of the
fighting clansmen, the Camerons of Lochiel, the
Gordons of Cluny, the Frasers, the Mackintoshes,
and the Chisholms.
Just one other feature of the neighborhood
remains to be noticed. A little to the east of Fort
rose is the village of Rosemarkie. At the back of
the village, and running in and along great gullies,
which I suppose have been washed out of the clay

BEGINNINGS IN SCOTLAND 5
or sandstone hills by the torrents of centuries,
is a succession of cliffs or precipices. For genera
tions these crags have been the playground, or
rather the climbing area, of the Highland lads
from surrounding villages.
These features of the scenery are in the main, I
think, correct, although I have not attempted to
verify them in any way, and I have never re
visited the scenes. They are simply vivid impres
sions of my early surroundings, which I have car
ried along with me and cherished with life-long
tenacity; and I am obliged to emphasize them a
little, for the reason that, connected with this
rugged scenery, there was later a tragic episode
which proved to be the first great turning point in
my life.
The earliest period of my activity, then, in the
home, the surroundings of which I have partially
described, may be fairly entitled the wilderness
stage. In regard to the names of my companions,
my manner of living at home, or conducting my
self at school, say up to my tenth year, my mind is
completely in the dark. The pranks and adven
tures of the period seem to have driven every
thing else into mental oblivion. I cannot even
remember to what extent my brothers shared in
these youthful escapades, which so exclusively
dominate these earliest memories. I am convinced,
however, that the adventures were almost invari-

6 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
ably stolen sweets, unlawful proceedings in which
truancy figured not a little, and an occasional run
ning away and hiding in the woods, — proceed
ings paid for, I doubt not in every instance, by the
infliction of corporal punishment and incarcera
tion in the family lockup.
While, of course, it is undesirable to relate
any of these childhood adventures in detail, the
individualism and self-assertion contained in this
state of gypsy-like lawlessness must be noticed
in passing. A single illustration will be suflScient
to picture the situation.
It has always been a mystery to me why I
should so easily recall incidents relating to the
dogs and horses, and my adventures in their com
pany. For instance, about dogs: there was
Pinky, the Skye terrier. Rock, the Gordon setter,
and Jack, the retriever. The latter was the delight
and pride of every boy in the neighborhood. His
cleverness in catching wounded rabbits, or in
finding lost articles that belonged to any of the
boys, was to our understanding almost super
natural. When I first remember him, Jack was growing
old, and getting a little blind. One day we heard a
rumor that his days were numbered and that the
gamekeeper had received orders to put him
quietly out of the way. So one morning, when
we surprised this man preparing to take him out

BEGINNINGS IN SCOTLAND 7
in a boat, we knew his time was come. How we
pleaded — in vain, of course — for the life of that
dog! Then we surrounded and jostled and fairly
mobbed the gamekeeper. In the end he was com
pelled to beat us back from the boat, and we sat
in a row on the beach crying and biting our lips.
The man rowed out a short distance from the
shore, then shipped his oars. We saw our hero go
overboard — first the dog, then the rope, and
then the rock. We never forgave that man.
From that time on he was continually in hot
water with one or another of us. Before many
days, in our own way, we paid him back. It was
at a time when the whole village was off its guard,
given up to jollification on Halloween. Two or
three of us, little imps, barred the door of his cot
tage on the outside, climbed up on the roof, and
dropped a large green sod down through the
chimney right into the midst of the family circle.
The thrashing we received for this escapade must
have been part of the pleasure, for it never both
ered our memories. n
If my recollection of my adventures is even
partially reliable, it is impossible to imagine a
more lawless and harum-scarum beginning to the
career of any mortal. But, doubtless, during this
early period there were already two sides to the

8 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
problem of my bringing-up, although at this dis
tance I find it difficult to reconcile the two parallel
and contemporaneous lines. Nevertheless, I am
well aware, from what I was able to learn after
wards, that even at the time that I was seemingly
running wild in the earliest mad-cap stage, I was
really being drilled and whipped into civilized
form by other and sterner forces, and in due time
the fruits of this training were abundantly in
evidence. But, even at its best, the domestic situation in
which I was placed is little understood by Ameri
cans of the present generation. A certain aloof
ness between parents and children in most well-
regulated families in those days was considered
necessary for purposes of decorum and discipline.
In this way servants and relatives to a great ex
tent had charge of our family, although my father
kept careful watch of the proceedings. There were
morning and evening prayers, grace was said
before and after each meal, although our parents
never sat at the same table with the small boys,
and there was the strictest observance of the
Sabbath. Whatever may have been his desires on the
subject, my father certainly found it impossible
to attend to us all personally while we were in the
barefoot, runabout stage, but he made up for it
when we grew old enough to appreciate his ad-

BEGINNINGS IN SCOTLAND 9
ministration. It is in this light, and during this
later period, that I chiefly remember him.
Thus, as briefly as possible, I have tried to
draw upon my memory for a picture of a youth
in the Highlands of Scotland in what to me are the
olden times, struggling, unconsciously of course,
with his environment and heredity. True, the
process was under cover, but the two lines of
effort and advance, even then, were clearly de
fined. The one was overflowing, disorganized,
boisterous, and natural. The other was artificial,
organized, and moral. On the one hand, there
was heredity, the aboriginal activity and yearn
ing of a hunting and fighting disposition, craving
for expression; and, on the other hand, there was
the environment of a determined and methodical
plan on the part of a schoolmaster, a minister, and
home influences, to turn these half -savage propen
sities into civilized channels.
Personality, it must be remembered, as a con
scious factor, was still in the embryo state, biding
its time. Then, of a sudden, just at this stage of
development, the forces engaged met in a sort of
catastrophe and, in a single day, I became a
conscious and soulful personality.
It happened in this way, in my eleventh year.
Between brothers in our family there was no such
thing as constant comradeship. Occasionally we
would play together in pairs or otherwise, but

10 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
unless we happened to join forces in some com
mon cause, we were usually in a state of chronic
rivalry. Plots and counterplots were always under
way. Encounters of every description, for the
most part manly and short-lived affairs, were the
order of the day. But we all seemed to have
chums in the village in whose company most of
the play-time was spent.
My particular companion was a little lad about
my own age, the son of the village miller, whose
mill was a short distance outside the village on
the edge of a noted rabbit-warren called "The
Dens." Alec was even a more inveterate poacher
than I, and nearly as good a crag-climber. The
alliance between us was offensive and defensive
in every particular. We were inseparable. When
ever I went astray, and was wanted for anything,
I was always to be found in the vicinity of this mill.
In front of the building and, if I am not mis
taken, rising sheer from the roadway in front of it,
the crags spread out to right and left. The bald
surface of these perpendicular sheets of clay was
divided at intervals by crevices or ravines running
vertically from top to bottom. Here and there on
the face of these parapets there were a number of
ledges, perhaps twenty or thirty feet long, run
ning horizontally across the surface. In nearly all
of these ledges there were deep holes, burrowed by
the rabbits. They were the breeding-places of

BEGINNINGS IN SCOTLAND 11
the rabbits and of numerous jackdaws, the natu
ral prey of the village boys. One ledge or shelf in
particular was the despair of every boy in the vil
lage. It was simply inaccessible. It seemed as if
every rabbit we chased out of the " Dens," under
standing this fact and mocking us, invariably ran
across the face of the cliff and took refuge on that
shelf. One day Alec and I determined to scale that
crag or break our necks in the attempt. We must
have deliberately and carefully planned the expe
dition in advance. We started from the mill one
morning just before dawn. We provided ourselves
with knives and a stout rope. Without much diffi
culty we scrambled up one of the ravines that
divided the cliff into sections. When the sun rose
we were probably two hundred feet from the base
of the cliff, and horizontally on a level with the
coveted ledge. To reach it, however, it was neces
sary to cut a flrm pathway, inch by inch, with our
knives, for a distance of fifty feet across an almost
perpendicular parapet. As a guide to our work
there was already a faint trackway made by the
rabbits. Along this line, footstep after footstep,
we dug our perilous way, until about half the dis
tance was covered in safety. I was three or four
yards ahead of my companion. Then, suddenly,
like a flash. Alec's foothold gave way and down
he went. In falling he shouted my name.

12 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
There is no necessity to draw on my imagination
to picture my predicament or to describe my
state of mind. I am there again this minute. For
a second or two I was rigid with a sort of terror.
To turn back was impossible, and I could not look
down. I simply drove my knife .up to the hilt in
the crag and held on. Then, after an unnoticed
interval, the sound of shouts from below came up
to me. They seemed to wake me out of my trance.
Meanwhile, in some unaccountable way, de
termination had taken the place of fear. I have
always looked back upon these moments as the
time when my personality first emerged into real
consciousness. I whispered to myself one word —
"Courage." Then I went on with my work,
cutting out the path to the ledge. It was a me
chanical process — I did n't seem to know or
realize what I was doing. I reached the goal and
returned by the way I had come.
At the foot of the hill a crowd was awaiting me.
I did n't ask any questions. I knew from the
silence that Alec was dead. Half the village ac
companied me to my home. My father was away.
I was locked in the cellar for safe-keeping.
Toward evening, to my surprise, I was liberated
and given a good meal.' For several days I was
in disgrace, or thought I was. Then the village
authorities came and asked me some questions.
Finally my father returned. I was surprised

BEGINNINGS IN SCOTLAND 13
that he seemed to avoid me. I knew something
was brewing. Then one morning I was told to
get ready to go to Inverness with him. Generally
speaking, the trip was looked upon by any of us
as a treat. On this occasion, however, I did n't
flatter myself in this way. Then came another
surprise. The trip was postponed on account of
the weather, and I was told to present myself at
once in the library.
I had no sooner entered the room than my
father sent me to a storeroom for a trunk full of
letters and documents. I at once noticed a change
in his manner and method of addressing me.
There was a sort of companionship indicated in
his words and actions to which I was totally
unaccustomed. I wondered what was going to
happen. He said he was sorry about the accident,
and especially for Alec. He was walking up and
down the room. I looked up and saw that his lips
were quivering with emotion. That was enough
for me. I did n't utter a sound, but I gripped my
self all over, while the tears poured from my eyes
in streams. However, there was no use trying to
put old heads on young shoulders, he continued,
and besides, after all, perhaps I was only a chip
of the old block. In fact, a little stronger .than
some of the other chips, he hoped. There had
always been too much abortive effort in the
family. I, at least, had done what I set out to do.

14 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
Of all things he hated abortive effort. I could
hardly believe my senses. As I listened, every
minute he was speaking added a year to my life.
My father knew I was collecting postage
stamps and " crests." He went on to tell me that
he was going to burn up a lot of family records
and letters. He wished me to read a little about
the family history they contained, and, inciden
tally, I could help myself to the stamps. He gave
me a hint or two in regard to his reasons for de
stroying these letters. There were financial trou
bles on the horizon. Some kind of family quarrel
and possibly a lawsuit. We could read the letters
together, and he would determine as we went
along which to preserve and which to throw into
the open fireplace before which we were seated.
The letters contained family history of a varied
description, chiefly from India. The health of this
one, the promotion of another in the Service, the
expedition of another on a diplomatic mission to
the Afghans, the sickness and death of a brother
at Aden, returning home on sick-leave — such
were some of the topics.
I was so keyed up at the time that scarcely an
incident in these letters has escaped my memory.
Especially impressive to me in many of the letters
were the stories of financial disaster, and the piti
ful forebodings of kinsmen who had lost their all
in the wreck of the Agra bank.

BEGINNINGS IN SCOTLAND 15
Thus the day passed away and, with intervals
for meals, my letter-burning occupation was con
tinued until late into the evening. But there was
another incident connected with the occasion that
made quite an impression upon me at the time.
When the servant brought in the lights, my father
ordered some "toddy." He compelled me to
drink a small quantity. He thought it might
assist me in going to sleep, but he made it the
occasion to tell me something about whiskey. Al
though, generally speaking, it was something to
be avoided, on the other hand, it was nothing to
be afraid of. He mentioned one or two unsatis
factory illustrations in the history of the family
as a warning against its abuse. He thought it
well for me to understand something about it at
an early age. " If you take a dislike to it," he
said, "you will do well. At any rate, govern
yourself thoughtfully in the matter." Then I
went to bed in a tumult of mental bewilder
ment. Psychologically speaking this is the end of the
personally unconscious period. The next stage
relates to school-life, to intellectual development,
and especially to religious foundations.
m
There is a tide in the affairs of boys, as well as
in those of men, that, taken at the flood, leads

16 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
on to fortune. This is usually the period when
the boy, awakening to a consciousness of his
own personality, determines, it matters not how
feebly at first, to think and act for himself.
In my own case, self-assertion, on a small scale,
of course, began almost immediately after the
death of my companion Alec. I can only attribute
my somewhat premature development in this
respect to the mental shock which I received upon
that occasion, and there was one feature about
this sudden development which seems to me to
be worth mentioning. This was the abnormal
sensitiveness that ensued. Mental impressions
of all kinds were very acute, and at times almost
painful. I remember how careful I was not to
offend any one, or to hurt the feelings of any one
in any way. This led to a natural desire on my
part to do my best in order to secure the good
opinion of people.
But this feature was only incidental; my real
purpose was to be better and stronger than my
companions in whatever sphere I might happen
to meet them. After all, this was only a very natu
ral desire and a simple development of the life I
had been leading; but that the consciousness
of will-power should actually add to the strength
of my muscles was a revelation to me at the time
and was illustrated one day in a very emphatic
manner.

BEGINNINGS IN SCOTLAND 17
A number of boys were playing in the vicinity
of the blacksmith's shop. Lifting weights was one
of our customary pastimes. The biggest boy in
the company was one of my brothers who was
two or three years my senior. Incidentally, he
took hold of a small anvil, but failed to move it.
Thereupon I lifted it from the ground with appar
ent ease. The boys shouted, and the blacksmith
came out and challenged me to do it again. I did
so. But the peculiar part of this illustration is that
I distinctly remember half chuckling to myself
and saying, "I have a secret."
This kind of self-consciousness affected my
behavior in a marked degree. I became quiet in
my manner and studious in my habits. What
may be called the dawn of purpose in my behavior
led naturally to a good deal of concentration,
and, at this psychological moment, the Free Kirk
minister, Mr. Brown, took hold of me.
To try to explain what religion meant to such
an impressionist as I was, at that early age, would
be a useless proceeding. I think, however, the
religion of the Free Church was thoroughly in
harmony with my mental level at the time. For
one thing, it introduced me to the Bible, but of
this book and its influence I shall have more to
say at a later stage of my story. At any rate, Mr.
Brown instilled into me the principles of ortho
doxy, and of the Bible as the great human guide,

18 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
in the same way that McTavish, the school
master, was pounding into me the construction
of hexameters in Latin verse, and the value of x
in algebra. The following story will give an idea
of my religious condition at this time, and of the
change from my former childlike indifference in
such matters.
One day, very thoughtlessly, I took aim with
a stone and killed a sparrow. I can never forget
the religious turmoil the act excited in my mind.
The situation, I am afraid, does not admit of in
terpretation, still less of appreciation, at the
present day. I took refuge in prayer, — a pro
cess whose spiritual aim and practical end is
discipline. But the most noticeable phase of this early
religious training was the strange secrecy that was
maintained on all sides in regard to moral prob
lems from a practical point of view. I speak of the
sermonizing on the subject. "Lead us not into
temptation," was interpreted in its widest signi
ficance. I was terribly impressed with wickedness
in the abstract. Ignorance and innocence were
supposed to be the safest route to salvation. One
day coming across the expression, "The Scarlet
Woman," I asked Mr. Brown to explain it to me.
I remember his answer: "My boy, at your age
curiosity will do you a great deal more harm
than enlightenment will do you good. Study

BEGINNINGS IN SCOTLAND 19
the 'Paradise Lost' and beware of the popular
craving for the novels of Dickens."
This, then, was the religious atmosphere in
which I was being educated. Its central tenet
was the necessity for an absolute ignorance of the
world and its dangers from the practical point of
view, in combination with religious safeguards
that were depended upon to act instinctively
in times of temptation and danger. It has been
necessary for me to dwell on this religious situa
tion at the time when my personality was begin
ning to assert itself, in order that the practical
tests of the system which came later may be
thoroughly understood. It was in this supersen
sitive condition, therefore, that my final studies
in my twelfth year in the academy in Fortrose
were continued.
The sudden change in my habits and general
deportment was immediately noticed by my
father and by McTavish, the schoolmaster. The
former took many opportunities to favor and en
courage me. The schoolmaster also, taking his
cue from my father, took considerable pride in
the progress I was making in my studies. This
schoolmaster was first of all and principally an
educational machine, but considering the material
and the difficulties he had to contend with, some
sixty or seventy boys and girls of various ages in a
single room, under his exclusive direction, he was

20 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
probably the right kind of man in the right place.
At no time during my pupilage under him, how
ever, did this man have any intellectual or moral
attraction for me. He possessed a method, and
that was all. In my mind's eye I can see him now
standing on the platform at the end of the school
room, slightly to one side of an enormous black
board, a long lance-like pointer in one hand, and
the ever-present "taws" swinging significantly
in the other. He brings the pointer down sharply
on the floor and says, "Attention." Then he
scribbles off a problem of some kind on the board,
takes a step forward and says, "One, two, three,
off!" At once there is a rattle and squeaking of
slate pencils, and after an interval some one
brings his slate down on his desk with a slam and
shouts, "First." Others follow in rotation as fast
as their tasks are completed. Meanwhile, Mc
Tavish is in the body of the hall, scrutinizing the
answers and admonishing the slow ones. In all
probability he pounces upon a "dunce," takes
him by the ear and deposits him silently in the
corner of the room with his face to the wall.
Occasionally, however, in a magnanimous mood,
he returns to the platform empty-handed and
explains the difficulties in the problem in the most
sympathetic manner. Once in a while in his re
marks to the pupils he lapses into the brogue of
the neighborhood. On one occasion I happen to

BEGINNINGS IN SCOTLAND 21
shout "First," at the top of my voice. "Jeames,
my boy," he replies, "dinna shoot; when ye 're no
first, I'll be making a note of it."
But perhaps the most exceptional feature of
this schoolmaster's administration was his quar
terly "repoorts," as they were called. They were
delivered in person. As a rule, he borrowed a
pony for the purpose. He usually set out on a
Wednesday afternoon and took in a circuit of
seven or eight miles. At every house which he
entered for the purpose of reporting the progress
of the children, he was invariably refreshed with a
good drink of whiskey; the consequence was that,
by the time he was headed for home, the pony was
thoroughly worked up. On the home-stretch we
boys were agreed that there was no one like our
schoolmaster for getting a Tam o' Shanter-like
gallop out of that pony.
However, in regard to my own progress, I
probably studied hard because I was compelled
to. Thanks to McTavish, his methods, and his
"taws," there was no doubt about my proficiency
in the "Three R's." In regard to these funda
mentals McTavish was a tyrant. Neither the
Laird's first-born, nor the poorest lad in the vil
lage, could escape this initial drilling. And by the
way, the number of books that were carried to
and fro was one of the astonishing features of
our school-life. Morning and evening the country

22 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
roads were dotted with boys and girls carrying
piles of books certainly two feet deep at times,
securely strapped between boards and slung over
stout little shoulders. The girls usually managed
to saddle themselves with the heaviest burdens,
and the most desperate fight I ever engaged in
was for the privilege of carrying one of these
ponderous libraries.
Such, then, in brief, was my intellectual and
religious condition when I left this village school
and was sent to a grammar school in Manchester,
England, to continue my studies. There were
eight or nine hundred boys in this school, and I
was admitted to it on what was called the "foun
dation." There was a batch of twenty of us who
were successful in this way, winnowed out of a
couple of hundred aspirants. When I left the
school I was in the fifth "form." The master's
name was Styles, and his methods and personality
were typical of the whole school. Our class of
thirty boys was divided into sections. Each sec
tion had its overseer — one of ourselves — and,
in this way, the master kept in touch with every
unit in the class.
Religious instruction was part of the curricu
lum, and, during an attendance of a little over
three years at this grammar school, my religious
ideas were enlarged considerably and my convic
tions deepened. This was also by far the hardest

BEGINNINGS IN SCOTLAND 23
study-period of my life, and my book-knowledge
was extended over a wide range of subjects. I
was also an inveterate football and cricket player,
but my studies took precedence over everything.
The concentration of mind, brought about by
continuous study, resulted in a mental condition
that was altogether too morbid and introspective,
and but for the timely intervention and advice
of Mr. Styles, serious mental results would have
followed. I had only one or two companions whom
I cared anything about, and they were nearly as
studious as myself. I did not get into scrapes of
any kind, and I remember Mr. Styles saying to
me one day that he thought if I broke loose once
in a while it would widen my horizon a little. How
ever, he went right to work on my case in his usual
practical manner: he insisted on daily exercise
and play, he took me to the theatre (I had never
been in my life before), and during the following
holiday season I went with him to visit some
friends near London; incidentally he gave me a
vivid introduction to some of the scenes and
problems of a great city.
There is just one final feature of my training
in this grammar school which I think it will be
well to mention. This has reference to the class
spirit that was instilled into the boys with such
sincerity and force that it was actually a normal
condition, both in field-sports and in studies, and

24 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
any deviation from it was always roundly de
nounced by the boys themselves. This phase of
my school-life had a striking illustration during
the class examinations, just before my departure
from the school.
I was particularly anxious to head the class list
on this occasion, and as I was in what was called a
classical "form," or class, at the time, the princi
pal tests were in our knowledge of Latin and
Greek. There were thirty-odd boys in the form;
the room just accommodated us comfortably,
each boy being seated at his individual desk with
his printed examination paper before him. My
most dreaded rival in these examinations sat
next me at a desk on the right, and I think that
this boy, who was a genius in many ways, would
have beaten me if he had not resorted to unlawful
methods . We were translating a passage from the
"Medea" of Euripides at the time, and as I
happened to look round in this boy's direction, it
struck me he was trying to hide something with
his elbow. In short, I soon came to the conclu
sion that he was making use of a "crib" or trans
lation, the edge of which just projected under his
desk cover. I was so dumfounded that I could
hardly believe my eyes. The fifth form was the
second highest in the school, and such an occur
rence among us was almost unthinkable. How
ever, acting simply in the class spirit, which in

BEGINNINGS IN SCOTLAND 25
fact I did n't have to think about, I at once stood
up and asked the form master if it would be con
sidered the proper thing then and there to name
a boy for cribbing. He replied, "Most certainly."
I did so. The boy, without a word of excuse,
bluntly and frankly pleaded guilty. He was
immediately expelled from the classroom, and
the cheering that followed the closing of the inci
dent, which the master himself encouraged, gave
me instantly to understand that I had not been
mistaken in my estimate of the class spirit.
IV
My school life in Manchester ended rather
abruptly. My younger brothers were coming
along, and it became necessary for me to earn a
living. It was a time when telegraph cables were
being laid to all parts of the world. So I went up
to London and spent some time learning to ope
rate the cable instruments. I made such good
progress that I very soon received an appoint
ment in the service of a company that was then
laying cables along the coast of South America,
and forthwith I made preparations to leave Eng
land. At this point it will be well to call to mind
my intellectual and religious condition. I was
pretty well equipped with school-learning, and
my mind was filled with a mass of moral general-

26 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
ities, but of the world and its practical dangers
and temptations I was supremely ignorant. I
was extremely religious, but, according to modern
ideas and standards, my education lacked its
most essential feature. This, however, was the
religious stage of my development, and it must
bear its own burden and tell its own story.
Just before leaving England I received an invi
tation to visit a cousin who was home from India
on a visit. He was about forty years of age, and
by far the strongest, most practical, and withal
the noblest kind of man I had yet encountered.
He tried to explain to me the different aspects of
city life from a practical point of view, but al
though I listened attentively to his advice it did
not seem to appeal to me in a personal way. I
could not get away from the mass of generalities
in which my knowledge of good and evil was
enveloped, and it was these practical aspects of
life that my cousin endeavored to bring home to
me in a final interview.
Just before my departure for South America,
we sat side by side in the anteroom of a restaurant.
I retain the liveliest and kindliest recollection of
this conversation. My cousin spoke flrst of him
self. There were many incidents and shortcomings
in his own career on which he looked back with
keenest regret, and perhaps on that very account
his words should have had additional weight.

BEGINNINGS IN SCOTLAND 27
Then he turned to my own plans and prospects.
He had been informed of my satisfactory record
at school, but that by itself, in his opinion, did n't
amount to much. The problems of life were not
to be solved by the mere exercise of intellectual
attainments. He said a good deal about heredity
and environment, although he did not make use
of these terms, but he laid emphasis upon what he
called "streaks" and habits. All these ideas and
situations, he contended, are for the most part
derived from the behavior of people who drift.
They have no terrors to the man with a purpose
in life, and a will. He took a number of illustra
tions from our own family history as practical
examples of individual success and failure, and to
show that character is always dependent upon
pronounced individualism.
In conclusion my cousin asked me if I had read
any novels. He wished I would immediately read
one of Bulwer-Lytton's — I have forgotten the
title. He referred speciflcally to one passage or
chapter in this book, in which the guardian of a
young lady calls her attention to a small plant or
fern half hidden among the rocks on a hillside.
He told her he had been watching the little plant
for weeks in its brave struggle to lift its head up
out of its unfavorable surroundings into the clear
air and sunshine. From my cousin's point of view
it was a striking lesson in character-building, the

28 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
significance of which was accentuated by the
parting advice given to this girl by the guardian,
"Keep yourself unspotted from the world."
If my cousin had understood my mental con
dition at the time he would have been more ex
plicit. As it was, I only half understood his mean
ing. To keep myself unspotted from the world
was just another Biblical text, and I was still in
the thraldom of these terrible generalities. How
ever unusual and morbid my mental state at this
time may appear to this matter-of-fact and prac
tical generation, I cannot refrain from describing
the sequel to this interview.
I wandered homeward to my lodging. Every
step of the journey is indelibly fixed on my mem
ory. Early in the afternoon I took a seat in a se
cluded spot in Kensington Gardens. Before long
I was disturbed and sought a still quieter situa
tion. I soon found an enormous tree-trunk, roots
and all, from which the tree itself had been
severed and carted away. In the great cavity in
the ground, caused by the violent uprooting of
the tree, I ensconced myself. I wished to think
over this problem of life, and of my future, which
my cousin had been trying so patiently to impart
to me. What did he actually mean when he told
me to keep myself unspotted from the world .f*
Was there actually a conspiracy in nature or
otherwise, for the waylaying and moral destruc-

BEGINNINGS IN SCOTLAND 29
tion of people? If so, under what guise and in
what form was I to look for it? Hour after hour
I pondered, and still no light came. I was finally
aroused from my reverie by the monotonous and
oft-repeated cry of the park policeman, "All out,
all out." Then I made the best of my way
homeward. A few days later, in the city of Lisbon, the
revelation and the awakening took place. It is
all so simple now. It was so terrible then. It
happened in this way.
There was some delay to our outward-bound
steamer at Lisbon and the opportunity presented
itself to go on shore for a while. Several of my
fellow clerks were also on this ship, but they had
been seasick in the bay, so I did not bother about
them. I went on shore alone. It was, of course,
my first introduction to a foreign city, and it
goes without saying that the dreamy, languorous
atmosphere, the sun-baked streets, the sort of
aimless sauntering of the populace in this semi-
tropical city were very new and strange to me.
Before long a young man stepped up to me and
inquired in good English if I did not wish to look
at the most notable buildings and sights of the
city. He would be glad to show me round for a
mere trifle. So I made a bargain with him and set
out. We visited many places of interest, and,
finally, in crossing a large square, my guide

30 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OFAN INDIVIDUALIST
excused himself for a minute for the purpose of
speaking to a young woman, who happened to
cross our path. After an interval he returned.
He immediately began to tell me about the young
woman. It was an extraordinary case; she was
a cousin of his from the country, driven from
home by harsh treatment, and here she was alone
and penniless in the city. He had n't seen her for
years. However, he had directed her to his own
home, where she would be taken care of for a
time, at any rate. Then we continued our sight
seeing. Finally, I mentioned my desire to return to the
ship. I then offered the man the sum of money we
had agreed upon. He said he would attend to that
later, and added, "Here we are close to my
home; if you will step in we can sit down and rest
for a minute or two, and take a little refresh
ment." It was the simplest kind of a proposi
tion, so we entered the house together. He led
the way into an inner room which was cosily
fitted up with lounges and reclining-chairs, on
one of which I seated myself. He then left the
room. Ten minutes or so passed away and I was be
ginning to wonder at the delay, when the door
opened, and a young woman appeared on the
threshold. It was the interpreter's cousin whom
we had met in the public square. She greeted me

BEGINNINGS IN SCOTLAND 31
familiarly and extended her hand. I shook it
mechanically. Her garments were sparkling with
ornament, and a mass of color. For a second she
simply stood there playing with a tassel that dan
gled from her headdress; then suddenly from her
lips came a ripple of laughter, and she tapped her
foot lightly on the floor.
Meanwhile, my mind was passing through a
tempest of conflicting emotions. Something said
to me, "Here you are at last — what are you
going to do about it? Here is your generality in
human form — the event itself."
In an instant the situa,tion in its true light
dawned upon me. The mental struggle banished.
A world of generalities were converted instinct
ively into a practical decision. It was at once a
recognition and an outburst. The writing on the
wall was now made clear to me in all its vital sig
nificance: "Keep yourself unspotted from the
world." I brushed the woman to one side, ripped open
the door, and found myself face to face with the
interpreter. I threw his money at his feet. I
seemed to possess the concentrated strength of a
dozen men. I sent him spinning across the floor
and rushed out into the street.

II
LIFE PROBLEMS IN SOUTH AMERICA

A JOURNEY of a few hundred miles in any coun
try is usually sufficient to separate a boy from
his home props and influences, and to impress
upon his mind, in some degree, the necessity for
independent thought and action. But the separa
tion in such a case is seldom complete. He may
still find himself among friends and, at the worst,
his neighbors will understand his needs, and be
able to speak his language. But let him once put
an ocean between himself and everybody he has
ever spoken to or loved in this world, and imme
diately time and space, and the void in his own
heart, become almost immeasurable. Such was
the situation I was called upon to face on my
return to the steamer, after my adventurous and
very clarifying experience on the streets of Lisbon.
And just at this point in my narrative, a word
of explanation should be given. It must not be
imagined by my readers, or assumed for an in
stant by myself, that in the stage which I am
now attempting to describe there was, to begin
with, any suspicion of philosophy in my mental

LIFE PROBLEMS IN SOUTH AMERICA 33
composition. In Lisbon I had received a sudden
and somewhat \ rude awakening. After a long
period of intellectual and religious cramming, I
suddenly found myself face to face with example
and illustration in the concrete. It is impossible
to describe the mental change that accompanied
this awakening. In a very matter-of-fact way, I
began to recognize in my environment a number
of other dangers of a very practical and personal
nature, and in order to steer clear of them all,
I fell back upon the only resource of which, at
the time, I had any knowledge, and that was
prayer. At the present day, I am afraid prayer has very
little intellectual or spiritual reality. In polite
society, and in the public schools, for example, it
is seldom mentioned in a spiritual way, or even as
an intellectual or moral exercise, although, we
may as well confess, no substitute for it has ever
been proposed. Its educational value, however,
has always seemed to me immense.
From the fact, then, that I have given this
period of my life very serious consideration, I
think I am justified in concluding that my under
standing of the situation is, in the main, correct:
that when I returned to the ship, after a visit
to the city of Lisbon, it was simply fear that took
possession of me; for the most part, moral fear,
which one of those Biblical expressions, so

34 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
pregnant with practical insight, reminds us is
"the beginning of wisdom."
I wish to be clearly understood in my defense
of these natural safeguards under the protection
of which I was preparing to face the world and
its problems, for the reason that fear also, as a
moral and educative force, is now frequently
looked upon as a relic of religious barbarism. In
the new dispensation, love is to take the place of
fear. By all means let us welcome the change,
but there is danger in haste. As a practical factor
in life, fear is still of the greatest economic and
spiritual value. The natural order of spiritual
progress seems to be, fear, purification, and then
love. In the Biblical text, "Perfect love casteth
out fear," the emphasis is on the word "Perfect."
The day after leaving Lisbon, I made the ac
quaintance of some of my shipmates. Besides
myself there were three telegraph clerks on board,
and with one of them, in particular, this narra
tive has considerable to do. His name was
Broadbent. He was then about thirty years of
age. He was a widely informed man, particularly
well posted in all matters relating to his profes
sion. He was one of those intellectually clever
men who sometimes find it difficult to settle down
anywhere. He had filled responsible positions in
the cable service in all parts of the world, and he
was then on his way to Brazil as clerk in charge

LIFE PROBLEMS IN SOUTH AMERICA 35
of the cable office at Santos, where I expected
to be located for a time; consequently I lost no
time in making his acquaintance. He proved to
be a man of ideas, as well as of great practical
experience. He had also read a great deal, and
knew how to utilize his information conversa
tionally. It did n't take Broadbent long to look me
over and take my measure. In a day or two after
leaving Lisbon I had shaken myself clear of any
desire I might have had for introspection or sol
itude. Physically I was in splendid condition,
and this led naturally to mental and bodily enthu
siasm of every description. I distinctly remember,
after my first night on board ship, with what an
all-absorbing curiosity in regard to myself and
my surroundings I ventured on deck. I felt a
great desire to know people, to mingle with them,
and to find out what they were talking about, and
I began with Broadbent.
He seemed to enjoy my frankness and simplicity
of manner. I was making my first appearance in
the world, and he found me unusually interested
in everything and everybody. I made no secret
of my religious training and convictions, and the
ingenuous, matter-of-fact way in which I expressed
myself on the subject seemed to arouse no end
of amusement and interest. I can never forget
Broadbent's remark at the end of our first inter-

36 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
view: he said, "You are a strange fish in muddy
waters." To tell the truth, this kind of reception flattered
my vanity, and started a current of self-esteem. I
understand now that right here are to be noticed
the first indications of a definite philosophy, which
in a few days, with the assistance of Broadbent,
was brought out into clear relief.
After mingling with people on the ship for a
day or two, I was very much surprised to note
that practically everybody was either ignorant or
neglectful of what may be called the Biblical
treatment of the problems of correct living. It
was just at this point, and in this manner, that I
first got it into my head that I was an individual
representing something that differed essentially
from the spiritual stock-in-trade of the people
in whose company I was. And thus, in the most
natural way, and at the outset of my career, I
found myself face to face with the philosophy of
personal conduct in its relation to life in general.
Broadbent soon found out what I was driving
at, and singled me out for his intellectual quarry.
He told me in plain English that he had met me
before in different shapes and sizes, that he looked
upon all such people as interesting mediaeval
survivals, emotional for the most part, but not
lasting. In fact, in his opinion, all that was want
ing to convert me into a reasonable and useful

LIFE PROBLEMS IN SOUTH AMERICA 37
member of society, was to put me into actual
touch with people and conditions, and then to
instill into my callow and superficial understand
ing, a little knowledge in regard to the biological
and sociological discoveries with which scientists
and philosophers were then busily enlightening
the world.
Broadbent was altogether too big for me at
this game. I had neither the knowledge nor the
ability to meet him on his own ground in an argu
ment of this description. Furthermore, I actually
admired the man. I absorbed the information
he imparted to me, by the chapter. It was all so
new to me, and, withal, so fascinating. I could see
no reason to doubt the truth or underestimate the
value to society, of the discoveries of science
which he championed so eloquently. But down in
my heart my satisfaction was tempered with a
sort of secret determination to find out, as soon
as possible, just what effect all this wisdom had
had in the past, and was having in the present,
upon Broadbent the man. This was the issue
that my individuality and budding philosophy
were preparing to test him with, and later on he
was called upon to answer these personal inquiries.
At that time, however, he had little idea of
the nature of the soil he was trying to cultivate.
He looked upon me as a precocious greenhorn,
and he proceeded cleverly, and with design, to

38 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
draw me out for the ediflcation of our little ship
board audience. But I was not so green as he
imagined. My mental experience was consider
able, and my contact with life, and with Broad
bent, was converting my reveries into expression
and ideas of a practical nature. Unavoidably
those were idle days on board ship, and a week
spent in Broadbent's company was probably
equal to a year's intercourse with people whom
one meets in the usual way. Broadbent, I think,
was a little flattered, or at any rate amused, at
the tribute I paid by my attention to his intellec
tual attainments, and our discussions became the
talk of the ship. On several occasions the cabin
of one of the officers, in which our conversations
took place, was crowded to the door.
The reasons I have for remembering these dis
cussions are much more than personal. My expe
rience was only an illustration, on a small scale,
of the intellectual excitement that was being
aroused at the time, all over the world. It was
finding practical and theoretical expression in a
great wave of miscellaneous experiment and dis
cussion. For one thing, the Book of Genesis and
miracles of every description in Biblical history
were on trial at the bar of the "Missing Link."
As it seems to me, nothing has ever aroused and
stimulated the intellectual, and particularly the
critical, faculties of mankind so universally and

LIFE PROBLEMS IN SOUTH AMERICA 39
permanently as this simple biological investiga
tion. Hitherto, in Broadbent's own words, the
mind of society, in its treatment of human know
ledge had been, intellectually speaking, like a
closed oyster, and now Darwin and Lyell and
Tyndall and Huxley and Herbert Spencer were
opening it with cold-blooded, indifference to
people's feelings or opinions. A more auspicious
point of time for any young man to make his entry
into the world of science, religion, and practical
affairs cannot be imagined.
The abruptness of this intellectual split cannot,
I think, be appreciated to its full extent by the
present generation. It was not so much a mere
question of evolution on the one hand and crea
tion on the other. The movement itself, repre
sented by the men I have mentioned, signalized
the bursting of all barriers, and the complete
enfranchisement of the mind in every department
of human inquiry.
I remember in what a clever and fascinating
manner Broadbent imparted to his listeners the
latest marvels of sociological and biological ex
periment. I recognize now, in connection with it,
his distinct foreshadowing of the doctrines of
socialism. But these revelations, which in fact I
little understood, did not disturb me in the least.
Nearly every word the man uttered enriched my
mind and widened my horizon.

40 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
But then again, when I retired to my cabin,
after listening to Broadbent, I still, and .always,
found myself face to face with my own individu
ality, that is to say, with my own personal pro
blems. This was inevitable for the following very
practical reason. Nearly every man on the ship
spent most of his time in drinking and gambling.
These were facts of which, hitherto, I had not had
the slightest practical knowledge. I instinctively
understood that these habits were fundamental,
and, looking on from day to day, I could not for
the life of me understand how these great personal
issues of life were simplified, or solved in any way,
by the discovery that creation was a myth. In
this way, in spite of my increasing enlightenment,
the personal aspect of affairs acquired additional
emphasis, and was not to be disturbed by any
mere theory of origins.
Broadbent, however, stated his case very
clearly. I remember his argument distinctly. He
affirmed that character, in its best sense, is fun
damentally scientific and not religious, and for
this reason good behavior is bound to win out in
the end. I, on the other hand, insisted on separat
ing the issues. I contended that the end or result
he looked forward to by the scientific route, was
too far off for practical purposes; and that in the
mean time, the personal method, guided by pre
cepts of Christianity, must remain the thorough-

LIFE PROBLEMS IN SOUTH AMERICA 41
fare to personal and social salvation of every
description. Right here on this issue, before the
end of the voyage, Broadbent and I locked horns.
In his opinion the scientific interpretation and
unfolding of life contained also its moral inter
pretation. Many people who figure in the same
way at the present day, fancifully propose to
refill the churches by a fairer adjustment of
economic conditions. To me, then as now, it
seems possible and necessary to separate the
issues, and to insist upon a clear understanding
of their value and relative importance.
Be this as it may, I told Broadbent I was glad
to hear his side of it for his own sake. I informed
him that I was going out to Brazil in the first place,
of course, to earn a living, but incidentally also,
to study the lives of people, including his own,
with the idea of finding out, if possible, just how
our opinions on the subject stood the test of
actual contact with life.
However, to do Broadbent justice, he had done
me a world of good. In the short space of three
weeks I had changed or been converted from a
mere boy, perplexed with a mind full of emotional
instincts, into an individual, with a more or less
definite trade-mark, and with a certain point of
view in regard to life and living in which I had
become enthusiastically interested. I had stepped
suddenly into the midst of the world of affairs;

42 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
my impressions of people and of conduct were
acute; every person on this ship was a problem
of some kind to me, and every hour that passed
added to my stock of practical enlightenment.
But while Broadbent and I were engaged in
these sociological discussions I became, at the
same time, involved in a matter of a different
nature altogether, at the hands of another man
who, meantime, had become interested in me and
my fortunes. II
When I look back at the outline of the past,
the events worth mentioning stand out by them
selves and assume a dream-like reality. Doubt
less the events cut deep and the impressions were
acute, hence their survival ; and now distance and
time have added to their enchantment. The facts
and the faces are still to me intensely real; never
theless, my casting adrift from home influences,
my flrst sea-voyage, my flrst encounter with
opinions and people, and my first observations of
life, read to-day more like a chapter copied at
random from "Gulliver's Travels," or the "Ara
bian Nights' Entertainments," than a narrative of
sober happenings that took place on a humdrum
steamship. To me, at any rate, the world in its first appear
ance was a tremendous situation, arid I was a sort

LIFE PROBLEMS IN SOUTH AMERICA 43
of unaccountable fact awaiting treatment of some
kind, in the centre of it. My curiosity and enthu
siasm, however, were only heightened by the con
sciousness of my personal insignificance. On this
my first sea voyage, in a most astonishing man
ner, practical intelligence and enlightenment were
imparted to me in a series of shocks, and every
increase in knowledge added to my self-import
ance in relation to my surroundings. Every time
I came on deck I looked round for new features and
new faces to investigate. I was continually on
the tiptoe of expectation, and this unfeigned and
exuberant interest which I took in my environ
ment, was returned to me before long, very curi
ously, and in double measure.
Among the passengers on the ship was a well-
to-do Spaniard, a South-American trader, as he
was called, and his son Jose. They were return
ing to their home in Rosario, then as now a city
of rising importance in the Argentine Republic.
The merchant was a widower, some sixty years
old, and his son was a pale-faced, interesting
boy, of studious habits, my senior by a year or
two. Beginning at school and continuing until to
day, one of the greatest of my intellectual pleas
ures has been the study of languages; so when I
found out that this young fellow was as anxious to'
learn English as I was to acquire a knowledge of

44 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
Spanish, an acquaintance was begun between us
that soon developed into a closer intimacy. We
went to work systematically in our studies; twice
a day, regularly, for two weeks, we came together
for the purpose of adding to our vocabularies, and
of engaging in conversational exercises, and during
these study periods the old gentleman was always
an interested listener. Under such favorable con
ditions our progress was remarkable. In less than
two weeks, with the assistance of the dictionaries
added to the very slight knowledge of the language
we had acquired in school, we could worry through
almost anything we wished to say.
As the days passed the old Spaniard's interest
increased, and he began to ask me all sorts of
questions about my business intentions and pros
pects. It was customary for many of the young
men on the ship to come together daily and en
gage in gymnastic exercises. In some of the com
petitions I more than held my own. This seemed
to astonish the old gentleman; that one so young
should be so enthusiastic physically and intellec
tually at the same time, seemed to him most
unusual. And then again, my simple application
of Biblical texts to everyday-life, and my inter
pretation of them from the personal standpoint,.
seemed to please him exceedingly. He had quite a
fair knowledge of the English language, and had
no difficulty in understanding me. The boy, also.

LIFE PROBLEMS IN SOUTH AMERICA 45
was interested in these matters and took pleas
ure in my society. As for me, I knew absolutely
nothing about Spanish life and character, and I
did not pause long enough to give my growing
intimacy with these people so much as a passing
thought. I was open-minded, however, and judged
appearances for just what they seemed to be
worth. Without advice from anybody I trusted
my own judgment and went ahead. But at night,
in prayer-like reveries, I always squared up for
the day's doings, and acquired fresh courage and
guidance for the days to come.
At intervals the old gentleman questioned me
about the details of my situation in the telegraph
service, and he seemed to think very little of the
opportunities and prospects connected with it.
On the other hand, with great earnestness, he and
the boy tried to impress upon me ideas of the
wealth and enterprise of the people in Buenos
Ayres and Rosario, and of the splendid future
that was in store for a part of the American conti
nent that was just then beginning to acquire a
world-wide celebrity. In his broken manner and
language, and as best he could, he repeatedly
broached the idea and wish that I should become
interested in some enterprise more in harmony
with my talents and enthusiasm.
This familiar intercourse was continued until we
came in sight of the harbor at Rio de Janeiro.

46 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
I was then in that amiable and impressionable
state of mind when the affectionate regard of
these people took right hold of me, and I listened
to the glowing story of the old Spanish merchant
with unfeigned interest and delight. Just when
the passengers whose destination was Rio — and
I was one of them — were making ready to leave
the ship, I was invited to his cabin for a farewell
interview. Broken as was his language, I had no
difficulty in understanding the drift and exact
substance of this conversation, which culminated
in a remarkable proposition.
The fact of the matter was, he was opposed to
my leaving the ship at Rio. He could not bear to
terminate our friendship so abruptly. Was it not
a fact that Jose and I were getting along famously
in our studies? It would be such a pity to separate
us. We should make a splendid pair of workers in
any business, especially in his business in Rosario,
which in a few years, in the ordinary course of
events, would belong to Jose exclusively. And
then, again, there was his little daughter Amelie,
who was in Rosario, awaiting his return. She was
so very amiable and so very pretty. At that mo
ment, to be sure, she was a mere child just passing
her eleventh year; but what of that? By the time
I should be twenty she would be a charming little
woman. In short, the proposition was from his
heart, honest and unmistakable, and the old

LIFE PROBLEMS IN SOUTH AMERICA 47
trader's hand was in mine as he made it, — so
many thousands and a share in the business to
begin with, and in the near future a partnership
and a bride; the details regarding my baggage
and the affairs of the telegraph company could
easily be arranged.
From his point of view there was nothing re
markable in this seemingly generous offer. Adop
tions of this kind were everyday occurrences
among Spaniards in South America; in fact the
people were looking forward to this blending of
races as a national policy, which closely concerned
their social and industrial destiny. Undoubtedly,
then, under these circumstances, a career of
unusual activity and usefulness, as well as of
domestic happiness, was in store for me. On the
other hand, he continued, if I landed in Rio, and
took my chances in that unholy city, I was
doomed to destruction. Not one in a score of the
young Europeans who tried to live, or rather to
flicker for a while in such pestilential localities,
was able to weather the scourge of the climate
and the riot of social conditions. As for the cities,
there was actually no choice — Rio, Santos, Bahia,
Permanbuco, Para, they were all the same. In
six months I would certainly find myself physi
cally wrecked and morally ruined. To Rosario,
then, where health and happiness awaited me !
It is impossible to look back upon this situation

48 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
with an unbiased or fully equipped understanding.
Never before or since those memorable days on
board ship has life appeared to me to be so full of
hope, so temptingly dangerous, so splendor-laden.
I am willing to admit that everything connected
with my progress up to this point must be looked
upon as unusually eventful and, in a measure,
prematurely expansive. The story is none the less
interesting on that account. Selecting its most
prominent and typical incidents, the most hum
drum existence has nearly always a dramatic
outline; and for the rest, I can only judge of what
I was, or of what I thought at the time, by what
I actually did. For instance, did the romantic
and mercenary features of this proposition appeal
to me? Certainly not, in their full significance.
Did I pause to think what the folks at home would
have to say about it? Under the circumstances
this would have been of little use. To give a
candid opinion, however, I should say that my
instinctive and budding self-assertion, my love of
adventure, and, above all, my insatiable curiosity
to get into the world of affairs and interpret for
my own use some of its riddles, were my all-pow
erful guides on this occasion. I accepted the prop
osition, in a provisional way, on the spot.
This first journey on shipboard is more import
ant in my autobiography than the two years of
work and experience in South America that fol-

LIFE PROBLEMS IN SOUTH AMERICA 49
lowed. It was a point of departure that set me
adrift on a wave of personal investigation, and
intellectual adventure, that I shall^now describe.
As for the proposition of the Spanish mer
chant, it soon died a natural death; and the story
has little relation to my future, except as an
illustration of the bold way in which, without
premeditation, I set out to experiment with op
portunity, and with my own powers in connection
with it. However, I explained the affair, in part,
to Broadbent, who took a business-like view of
the matter, and arranged for a short leave of
absence from my duties. The adventure itself
soon came to an end. I remained for two or three
weeks in Rosario, and, ridiculous as the affair
may now seem, was beginning to think seriously
of a permanent sojourn, when suddenly the old
merchant died. Then a change came over the
scene and the prospects; some legal and domestic
complications arose, in which I had no desire to
take part. To simplify matters, I withdrew from
the family circle, and made the best of my way
to my original destination at Santos.
Ill
I must pass over my two years' sojourn in
Brazil with a sort of feverish retrospection. My
experience was too pitiful, too tragically interest
ing, too prolonged, to come within the limits or

50 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
province of any ordinary nightmare. Looking
back at it all, it may rather be likened to a chap
ter in Bunyan's famous allegory in which the pil
grim, encountering unexpected temptations and
pitfalls, receives his first terrible set-back. Years
of progressive enlightenment have doubtless bet
tered the situation in Brazil, from every point of
view; but when I arrived in the country, in the
late seventies, the social and moral environment
in which I found myself, was simply indescribable.
But in order to make my own conduct appear in a
measure reasonable, and to account for the mental
abyss into which I was finally plunged, I must run
over a few of the events, and describe some of the
conditions, as briefly as possible.
The telegraph office was located in a great stone
building which faced the harbor. The clerks,
five or six of us, had sleeping-rooms in this block.
The office work itself was pleasant, and the salaries
of the men were quite liberal. It took me about a
week to get an idea of the place, and a year's so
journ did not alter my first impressions. For a
few hours during the morning there was consider
able business activity, but the afternoons were
usually very quiet and intensely hot. The real life
of the place opened up when the offices closed,
and the sun went down. Then a carnival of drink
ing set in. In this the Europeans were the chief
participants. The natives had their faults, but

LIFE PROBLEMS IN SOUTH AMERICA 61
excess in drinking was not one of them. The
friendly advice I received on my arrival, to get
intoxicated and remain in that condition, if I
would escape the yellow fever, was lived up to,
so far as I could make out, by every one who
could afford it. The arrival of a foreign warship,
or of a man of note, called for international cour
tesies which frequently ended in midnight street
brawls. The local police force was helpless at the hands
of these roisterers; license was not confined to
mere conviviality; in the midst of it all, women
were a commodity. At intervals they were im
ported from Europe in batches and auctioned
off in the saloons, under all sorts of contracts, to
the highest bidder. Single men were by no means
so abandoned as those who were married and had
families. This, I was assured, was a proper and
reasonable state of affairs. Society was more
vitally interested in the rising generation than in
the behavior of those who were no longer in the
matrimonial market.
For a month or so I moved up and down, as it
were, in the midst of this social inferno. Then I
went to Broadbent. I knew from observation
that he was not much better than the crowd;
nevertheless, I wanted to know what he thought
about it all. The personal problem with which I
was surrounded seemed to me to be overwhelm-

52 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
ingly important. Broadbent had told me on board
ship that science, political and social economy,
would take care of just such situations; but for
the life of me, now that I was in the midst of this
one, I could n't understand how these reforms and
cures were to be initiated and kept alive without
personal redemption, beginning within and bear
ing fruit in social and economic reforms.
The people whose conduct I am criticizing were
rich enough; they were intelligent, in a way, and
could reason and talk about other people's ideas
by the hour; but they lacked the acute moral
sense which, in the aggregate, constitutes the
social conscience. I could not help noticing at
the time the close relationship that must always
exist between personal and civic behavior.
On some of the side streets dead and dying
negroes were occasionally thrown out into the
gutters. And again, one day I met a procession
of smallpox patients, in all stages of the disease,
dragging themselves through the public streets
on the way to climb some Mount of Piety, to pray
for intercession, while from the courtyards of
every church in the city showers of rockets as
cended on prayerful missions, cracking the skies
with an earsplitting din.
I went to Broadbent, I say, with my troubles,
but I soon discovered that in spite of his intellect
uality, he was nothing but a social degenerate.

LIFE PROBLEMS IN SOUTH AMERICA 63
His conversation was one thing, his conduct was
another. In so many words, "Eat and drink,"
he said to me, "for to-morrow we shall die."
According to him, yellow fever was the cause and
sufficient reason, scientifically speaking, for per
sonal depravity. It was indeed true that at inter
vals the scourge descended upon the city like a
murrain among cattle. If there was anything in
particular that was noticeable, it was its affinity
for greenhorns, fresh arrivals, and clean people.
Chronic drunkards, as a rule, were immune.
Broadbent laid emphasis on these facts and one
day, after explaining the situation in detail, he
said to me in substance, —
" Come along, be one of us. It is either this or
death, or perhaps something worse than death.
You know Fillimore, of course. He works beside
you in the office. But you never entered his room,
did you? To begin with, conditions frightened his
moral and physical nature, as they have yours.
He came from a nice home, I understand. A few
drinks and a little companionship would have
straightened him out, but we could n't get him
to emerge from his shell. So now he comes down
to the office in the morning, and sneaks back to
his room in the afternoon, and in the evening he
gets out into the suburbs and captures creeping
things of every description. His room is alive
with lizards and beetles and all kinds of reptiles

54 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
running loose. His poisonous pets, such as tar^
antulas, he keeps under glass covers. He does his
own cooking on an oil stove. He has never venti
lated or cleaned his room. He is beyond the reach
of the fever, for he is inconceivably filthy. He is
everlastingly reading the Bible. Just think of it!
This is what it is to be driven back on yourself in
this forsaken country. You know what the alter
native is — take your choice."
This almost, but not quite, concluded my inter
course with Broadbent. I said to him, " I under
stand the situation, I hate your philosophy, I refuse
to compromise. I, too, will fall back on myself."
I kept the fact to myself, but to tell the truth, I
was mentally and morally stunned. Broadbent
had, at least, opened my eyes and given me a
graphic description of the abyss of iniquity into
which, with unabashed countenance, he invited
me to plunge. Good people no doubt there were in
that neighborhood, but I never met them or heard
of them; and who could blame them, in such a
maelstrom of depravity, for keeping aloof or in
hiding. But the situation to me, at the time, was
actually worse than it appears to be on the surface.
This was my first introduction to business and
social circles, and although I knew intuitively
that in my own country, for example, social be
havior and conditions were on an infinitely higher
level, I had as yet no practical assurances on the

LIFE PROBLEMS IN SOUTH AMERICA 55
subject except as a schoolboy; and in this, my first
plunge into business and social affairs, I found the
representatives of nearly every European nation
engaged in social orgies that would have been a
disgrace to any community in the worst days of
the Roman Empire.
To tell the truth, I was terribly disappointed.
The door through which my ambitions and aspir
ations pointed, seemed to shut with a bang. In a
very short time, like Fillimore, I was in a class by
myself, and to my surprise my religion had few
consolations for me. Both religiously and soci
ally, for the time being at any rate, I was a palpa
ble misfit. My physical and moral enthusiasm
had been stifled too suddenly. Inertia set in.
For a week or more I went about my duties
mechanically; otherwise I was as listless and unre
sponsive as the sands of the desert. Then an idea
occurred to me. I could n't break my contract
with the company, but I could go to work and
learn some of the languages which up to this time,
on the streets and elsewhere, I had been listening
to with a dull ear. I immediately turned all
my energies and enthusiasm in this direction. It
proved to be a delightful and profitable occupation.
I went about it almost fiercely. I penetrated into
slums, offices, private houses, and clubs, hunting
up words and meanings, and also people to con
verse with. One day I would bury myself in an

56 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
underground kitchen with a Portuguese cook, and
the next day, perhaps, I would take a San Paulo
railroad train, get off at a way station, and spend
an afternoon with an Indian in a canoe, learning
the names of the birds, the trees, and the monkeys,
as we glided through tangles of gorgeous foliage.
For a stranger to be interested in one's native
tongue is always a pleasing kind of flattery. Be
fore long I was welcomed everywhere. In less
than six months, I could hold my own in ordinary
conversation in Spanish, German, French, and
Portuguese. I was just beginning to take some
kind of interest in my surroundings, and to plan
understandingly and hopefully for the future,
when Broadbent again appeared on the scene, and
scattered my projects to the winds.
One day I sat at the dinner table in the hotel —
the Europa. I was reading, or rather trying to
read, out of a book. Chico, the waiter, had just
left the room with an armful of dishes. My super
intendent, sleeping off the effects of his afternoon
tipples, was in the next room, snoring ponder
ously. The guests had all departed and, but for
the rats that now and then jumped up on the
table and made off with a morsel of food, I was
alone. It was the fever-time of the year, and as I
was suffering from a bad headache I was a little
uneasy about my physical condition; and, besides,
I was at the lowest ebb of mental depression. The

LIFE PROBLEMS IN SOUTH AMERICA 57
satisfaction I derived from my studies was, at
best, a commercial one; otherwise, so far as pro
gress was concerned, I was absolutely a failure.
It was my eighteenth birthday. The daylight
was fading. I closed my book and, hearing a faint
noise, I raised my eyes. Broadbent emerged from
the superintendent's room, crossed the hallway,
and hurried down the stairs. Tucked closely
under his arm was the superintendent's hand-bag
containing, as I well knew, the collections for the
day — some thousands of milreis. I rushed after
him down the stairway, and into the street.
As I was turning the first corner, some one halted
abruptly, or I ran into some one, who gave me a
blow on the head that sent me sprawling into the
gutter. When I awoke, I was in bed in the hotel. The
room was crowded with policemen and others;
Broadbent was among them. I accused him of
committing the robbery. The police received this
intelligence as a joke, everybody smiled, and some
one remarked, "He is out of his head." Then a
burly negro came forward and informed the
police that in turning the corner I had interfered
with a combat of clubs, in which he was engaged,
and that I had received a whack on the head
that was intended for his adversary. This explan
ation was entirely satisfactory to the police, al
though the money was not forthcoming. Then

58 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST,
Broadbent almost shouted, "That boy has the
yellow fever."
In two seconds the room was deserted. I leave
the problem of the headache and fever symptoms,
the apparition of Broadbent on the stairway, the
robbery, the affair at the corner of the street, and
the statement of the negro, to psychologists to
unravel. As for me, I lay on my cot absolutely
deserted until noon the next day, when a doctor
appeared. Later the boys in the office got together
and sent a nurse to my assistance. At the end of
the second day I entered the fatal stage, and
began to sink rapidly. The coffin was ordered.
Later on I paid for it. But doctors and others
were mistaken. I fairly hovered on the brink,
as they told me afterwards, and then made a most
unlooked-for rally. In less than a week I was out
of danger. Meantime, however, in a fit of delirium
I had unmercifully belabored my nurse with a pil
low, and in her place a professional attendant was
secured, a man whose name was Peixoto.
I cannot introduce Peixoto to my readers with
out an apology or an explanation of some kind.
Physically and mentally he was a strange phe
nomenon, in appearance and faculties an almost
unbelievable creature. Mentally he was a modern
reproduction of Timon of Athens, in his last and
misanthropic stage. Later on we shall glance at
his pedigree and history; for the present, however.

LIFE PROBLEMS IN SOUTH AMERICA 59
it will suffice to say that he was an albino —
neither a white nor a black man, but a cream-
colored creature of medium height, athletic build,
and dignified carriage. In his behavior as a nurse
he was methodical and strong, yet as gentle and
considerate as a woman. He had one curious
habit. When not engaged in conversation, he
nibbled incessantly on his lower lip, as any man
will once in a while, when nursing a grief or an
injury. Peixoto had both — he was a social out
cast. His hair was white, short, curly, and silky,
and it grew in tufts; his nose was flat, his cheek
bones were high, and his skin a sickly cream-color.
The pupils of his eyes were red, and the parts
that should have been white were pink. Apart
from this he possessed a tremendous personality,
and that was just where the trouble came in.
Brazilian society had no use for this man except
as a caretaker in cases of virulent disease. This
fact cut him to the soul, and all humanity was to
him, very naturally, a gigantic farce.
As regards my own sickness, complications set
in, and I was confined to the hotel for nearly three
months. During this period Peixoto was my con
stant companion. I was in my eighteenth year,
physically and mentally a weakling at the time.
Peixoto was in the prime of life. To convert me
to his way of thinking and of judging humanity,
he extended himself. In regard to what followed.

60 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST.
I have no excuse or justification to offer. For over
two months I listened to, and absorbed, a good
deal of Peixoto 's philosophy. It was founded on
the personal annihilation to which society and
the universe had condemned him, and it all cul
minated in the homeless and hopeless conclusion
that there was no God. Under his tutelage my
religious convictions seemed to be smothered, al
though it was only a storm through which I was
passing. Nevertheless, when I left the hotel I
looked out upon the world, to some extent,
through Peixoto 's eyes.
Meanwhile, Santos had become an impossible
place of residence for me, and I requested and
obtained a transfer to Bahia. In a few weeks
Peixoto followed me. Bahia was his birthplace,
to which, periodically, he was in the habit of re
turning. It was a time when all the world was talk
ing about the discovery of gold and diamonds in
South Africa. Peixoto was seriously considering
emigration to that country, where, he thought,
among the savages, perhaps he would be able to
find some kind of a social level; or where, at the
worst, as a filibuster or freebooter, he could square
accounts with creation in some way.
One day Peixoto and I took a walk, or rather a
climb, from the lower to the upper city. As you
look at it from the sea, Bahia has the appearance
of a huge perpendicular rock. Some of the houses

LIFE PROBLEMS IN SOUTH AMERICA 61
seem to be up among the clouds, others down at
the water's edge. Peixoto conducted me, by a cir
cuitous route, to a convent situated in a narrow
street in the upper section of the city. In this
convent, he explained to me, he had been brought
up and educated.
We entered the convent through an imposing
archway, and passed into a large granite-walled
hall, at one end of which was a heavily barred
grating, and back of that a smooth stone pave
ment extending to another grating through which
several nuns were passing garlands and flowers
made of feathers, on long wooden shovels, to pur
chasers who made their wants known by long
distance signs at the outer grating. Thence we
passed into a small chapel which had egress to the
outside world by means of a long and very gloomy
corridor. In one corner of the chapel there was a
little niche or alcove in which was a cradle-shaped
box. A rope attached to this cradle passed up
through a wide chimney-like aperture to some
chamber above. Peioxto explained to me in detail
the significance of this machinery. The cradle
was for the accommodation of abandoned children
whom, with utmost secrecy, the depositors, or
parents,' wished the convent to adopt and educate.
In this way, and in this very place, he, Peixoto,
had made his first appearance in human society,
and this was practically all he knew of his own
history and antecedents.

62 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
Very soon after this visit to the convent Peixoto
took ship for South Africa. I was fated to meet
him again. It was several years later, in the midst
of a fierce campaign which the British and their
allies, the Zwasi Kaffirs, were waging against
another Kaffir chieftain in the northern part of
the Transvaal. Peixoto was in the service of the
Zwasis. On the day of the final assault on the
stronghold of the enemy, after the British had
dynamited the caves, it became his duty, as he
informed me, to intercept the survivors, stab
them, and throw them down over the rocks. He
was settling his account with creation in this way.
But this is anticipating. I must return to the
narrative of my own personal progress.

Ill
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES IN AFRICA

At the outset of my third chapter I wish to
emphasize the fact that I am doing my best to
write, not simply the ups and downs of a some
what adventurous career, but the plain history of
a passion. In the preceding sections of my story I have
given a rough yet definite description of the soil in
which this passion was planted, and of its mani
festations and behavior when first it became con
scious of its surroundings in the Highlands of
Scotland. I have described the contact of my in
dividualistic spirit with men and events when
I was about to leave home; later, on board ship;
and finally, during a sojourn of two years in South
America. Before concluding the story of my expe
riences in South America, however, a final incident
remains to be noticed.
Applying its lessons to my own progress, the
story relates speciflcally to the character and influ
ence of women. My experience in such matters
has been somewhat unusual. For one thing, I can
just remember my mother on her death-bed. As

64 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
a moral handicap the signiflcance of this fact is
immeasurable. Then, again, there were no girls in
our family, no sisters for companions or play
mates. Let the reasons be what they may, as I grew up,
I consistently avoided female society. But this
instinctive disinclination for the society of girls
and women was accompanied by the most spirit
ual ideas in regard to their personalities and influ
ence. My youthful and well-remembered conclu
sions on the subject are plain as plain can be. As
a growing boy it never occurred to me that any
girl or woman of my acquaintance could possibly
be less than perfect in the workings of her heart,
in the details of her daily occupation, or in mat
ters that related to her mission as a sex. My
attitude at the time may be summed up in two
mottoes: "I worship," and, "I serve."
But there comes to every mortal a time when
youthful dreams must submit themselves to all
sorts of practical and spiritual tests. In my case,
the first clash was perhaps the most memorable
event in which my personality has ever been
called upon to take part. On the occasion to
which I refer, I just happened to get close enough
to the heart of a woman to enable me to under
stand a little of its fundamental character. It is
one of those unforgettable links that still connect
this most absorbing of life problems with my boy-

TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES IN AFRICA 65
ish dreams. It was shortly after my arrival in
Bahia from Santos. She was a married woman.
This fact, to me at the time, had not the slightest
significance. I made her acquaintance on board
ship, on the way over from Europe. She was then
the young bride of one of my fellow clerks. Unfor
tunately he was the flimsiest kind of a fellow, and
six months of life in Bahia were sufficient to carry
him well along on the highway to perdition. On
my arrival in Bahia I knew nothing about this
state of affairs. However, when I heard that the
family were in trouble I determined to call, and
after a while I found them in poorly furnished
quarters in what was then known as the upper city.
At the time of my first visit the husband was in
jail and the young wife was taking care of her
baby girl and trying to keep body and soul to
gether with the assistance of a boarder or two.
Within a few days I, too, as a boarder,' was ad
mitted into the family circle.
Readers perhaps will imagine that I am about to
give a simple variation of an old story. Be this as
it may, the significance of the experience to me
personally was incalculable.
With my advent the young wife seemed to ac
quire a fresh supply of courage. We soon became
attached to each other in a quiet, sociable way,
which easily led to the exchanging of confidences.
Apart from her expressed gratitude, I knew abso-

66 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
lutely nothing about her affections, except as they
shone in her face and were manifested in her
motherly devotion. And yet it is true that as the
days went by the situation developed most de
lightfully in impossible directions, as it were, un
til the current of other affairs hurried it along to a
climax. Before leaving Santos I had written home to
make inquiries in regard to the situation and
prospects in South Africa, and very soon I re
ceived word that arrangements had been made
which would enable me to join a party of young
fellows who intended to leave England on a cer
tain date. Finally the time came for me to pack up
and take leave.
So one morning I prepared to walk out of my
boarding-house for the last time. To me the oc
casion, in minutest detail, is unforgettable. In
thinking it all over from a distance, one recog
nizes, with a clearer understanding than at the
time, the significance of such events in the life-
journey of the individual. Every once in a while
in their lives people focus in this way and take
stock of spiritual progress. The picture in my
mind of the final scene and leave-taking is some
thing like this : —
A ladder of houses on a cliff -like street. The
city sparkling in the first glow of the early morn
ing sun. The harbor beneath, and, in the distance.

TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES IN AFRICA 67
dotted with ships. Inside, a home, a flower-decked
parlor, a chfld in a high chair pounding lustily on
the table with little fists. The young mother sor
row-tossed, yet struggling to speak cheerfully.
The face pale as pale can be, yet gentle and firm
beyond description. The hand extended, and the
words "Good-bye" at the point of utterance.
Then suddenly, in the twinkling of an eye, the
features relax, tears stream, and the little body
collapses. Just enough strength was left to enable
her to rush from the room.
As for me, I stood there like a fool, bereft of mo
tion, almost of thought. Quickly, however, I came
to my senses. A situation hitherto undreamed of,
yet actually rehearsed for two or three months in
simplest everyday intercourse, dawned upon me.
From her side and mine, all at once, I understood.
I realized that to prolong my stay, or to call her
back, would be sacrilege. Nevertheless, even to
day, I cannot easily account to myself for what fol
lowed. I turned to leave the house, and then the
unutterable dilemma in my heart took refuge in
action. I opened my purse and counted out upon
the table, in sovereigns, the half of its contents.
And that was the end of it all.
n
The scene now changes to South Africa. But
before I begin the narrative of my travels and ex-

68 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
perience in that country, a word or two should be
said regarding my aim and intentions in steering
my course in such a strange direction.
To begin with, of course, there was the roving,
adventurous spirit tucked away in my heredity,
added to the disgust which I had acquired for my
life and surroundings in South America. Then,
again, there was the ever-present necessity of
earning a living somehow and somewhere; and on
top of all these considerations there came an en
thusiastic invitation from a brother who was al
ready in Africa, and who, at the time he wrote, was
doing remarkably well at the Pilgrim's Rest Gold-
Fields. Just what I was going to do when I got
there was to be left altogether to circumstances.
In the second place, a preliminary word or two
of explanation is due in regard to the period at
which I appeared on the African scene; and a very
brief sketch or reminder of a few of the histori
cal events which signalized this period and with
which, here and there, I was in close touch, will
certainly not be out of place.
In those days there were no railroads either in
Natal or the Transvaal, and the ox-wagon was the
most important single feature of African life. The
Transvaal Republic, when first I entered the ter
ritory in the year 1877, was in a state of commer
cial and political anarchy, principally from a lack
of funds necessary to enable the farmers to con-

TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES IN AFRICA 69
tinue their campaign against the Kaffirs. Presid
ent Burgers and his executive were in despair and
the Republic was in a state of hopeless bankruptcy
when, on April 12, 1877, at Pretoria, Sir Theo
phUus Shepstone, armed with the necessary au
thority from the British Government, annexed
the country as British territory.
The return of more prosperous conditions, how
ever, aroused the Boers to renewed consciousness
of their political subjection, and very soon, under
the stupid and autocratic handling of the situa
tion by British administrators, the old sores were
reopened, and the war-spirit, nursed by the cau
tious and astute policy of Paul Kruger, who was
at the head of the new movement, spread from
farm to farm until it was fearlessly supported by
nine tenths of the population.
At intervals following the annexation in 1877,
came the Zulu War, which included the disaster
at Isandlwana, the death of Prince Napoleon, the
victory of Ulundi, and the capture of Cetewayo.
Then, later, the campaign against the Kaffir chief,
Sekukuni, in the north of the Transvaal, was un
dertaken, and this again was followed in 1880 by
the outbreak of the first Boer war of Independ
ence, with the battle of Majuba Hill, and the re
cession of the Transvaal to the Boers by the
Gladstone Government, in 1881.
It was at the beginning of this string of histori-

70 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
cal events that I made my way into the Trans
vaal, and in the midst of these scenes I lived and
moved about for over three years among the
Boers and the Kaffirs.
While the events I have mentioned had but
little direct connection with me and my fortunes,
they form a sort of historical framework inside of
which I moved up and down and formed personal
opinions in regard to policies and peoples. In
order to emphasize my personal relationship to
these affairs and to these peoples, I think the best
way will be to give a series of detached pictures of
my African life and experience and to comment
upon them by the way. m
On the journey from South America to the
Transvaal I halted for a day or two in Cape
Town. Then I moved northward and spent a few
weeks in the colony of Natal, where I happened to
meet two men who took more than a passing in
terest in me and my problems. The first was
Rider Haggard. At that time he was secretary to
the governor. Haggard, like myself, was then in
the making stage, and already his conversation
was bristling with the "He," "She," and "Jess"
of his novels. With Haggard's assistance I re
ceived an introduction to one of the most notable
men of the period in that or any other country.

TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES IN AFRICA 71
Bishop Colenso. He was one of those persecuted
forerunners of religious liberty. At the same time
he was universally recognized as the great peace-
loving arbitrator between the Kaffirs, the Boers,
and the British. Three or four times I met him at
his home, amid dream-like surroundings, flowers
and hedgerows and gorgeous vegetation, a grand
old man with a retinue of stately ring-crowned
Zulus for servitors and errand boys. He seemed
to be devoting his declining years to the material
and spiritual interests of a little village of dark-
skinned mission chfldren. For the first time in
my life, I met a man who listened to my story,
gave me much practical and spiritual advice, and
sent me on my way with renewed courage.
At this point in my narrative I may as well say
that, in my mind at the time, my personal mission
in Africa was clearly understood. At the first en
counter, in South America especially. Society and
I had made the poorest kind of connection. The
rough-and-tumble childhood, the religion of John
Knox, the discipline of the "taws," and the ster
ling influence of vigorous and healthy environ
ment in youth, had received a palpable setback.
Hitherto Society had been confining me in many
ways; I was anxious to grow in a physical direc
tion especially, and for that reason the prospect
of a few years in Africa appealed to me. At the
same time, both intellectually and religiously, I

72 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
was holding my own. While I still remained stead
fast to religious fundamentals, the meaning of re
ligion in my mind, as well as its centre of gravity,
was changing.
Of course, apart from this philosophy of life,
there was, at all times, the problem of my ma
terial interests. Never in my life, however, have I
had any schemes for the accumulation of money,
and least of all while I was in Africa. I was pos
sessed with a craving for knowledge, excitement,
and personal expression. My mind was twenty
years ahead of my experience. The problem for
me would have been the same in any country —
it was simply to find myself. In Africa as in South
America I continued to follow my individualistic
programme, and it must not be forgotten that my
conclusions in regard to people and conditions
were derived not from philosophy or reading, but
from a discussion of live issues at camp-fires with
indignant Kaffirs whose kraals had been sacked,
and on wagon-seats with sturdy Boers whose
everlasting theme was personal and national
independence. I can only refer in passing to the period of my
initiation among these African scenes and people.
In five or six months to become fairly expert in
handling a wagon-whip and in spanning oxen, in
horsemanship, hunting and rifle-shooting, and
roughing it in general, was a very simple process

TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES IN AFRICA 73
for a fellow at my age; but to become conversa
tionally at home among Kaffirs and Boers, and to
a slight extent among Hottentots and tongue-
snapping or ' click '-speaking Bushmen, in a little
over a year, was an achievement that can be
comprehended only by those who possess a most
retentive memory, and who from childhood have
been passionately diligent and inquisitive in the
study of languages. To me in Africa, this facility
in languages was not only an ever-present and all-
absorbing occupation, — it proved also to be the
point of contact, sympathetically taken advant
age of in every way, that enabled me to get un
usually close to the hearts and the homes of those
peoples, both black and white.
As illustrations of my African experiences I
have in mind a number of characteristic scenes or
word-pictures. The first is that of a transport-
rider or wagon-driver. With a wagon and a span
of sixteen or eighteen oxen, at different times I
took loads of merchandise from the coast across
the Free State or the Transvaal, to Kimberley,
Pretoria, or the Gold Fields. In those early days a
trip of this description in dry weather over the
flats, which in places were simply black with
herds of blesboks, gnus, and zebras, was a sort of
long-continued picnic; but when you got into the
swamps, or breasted a range of mountains, it soon
turned into a heroic and sometimes into a desper-

74 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
ate undertaking. Then it became a supreme test
of lungs and limbs and courage. Winding up
through dangerous gorges and over rocky heights,
this creaking Transvaal buck-wagon, the forerun
ner of civilization, dragged its perilous way. Its
string of straining and panting oxen, every back
on the hump, every nose within an inch of the
ground, goaded to the limit of exertion by the re
verberating cracks of a forty-foot whip, was, to
me, an important element in a scene of physical
splendor. And then at sundown, when we out-
spanned our cattle, cooked our food, smoked our
pipes, and discussed the day's doings round the
camp-fires with Boers and Kaffirs from other
wagons, as they happened to visit us, I, at any
rate, amid these scenes, soon became aware that
Nature herself had taken me in hand, and that
there was room in my heart for all manner of hu
man sympathies; and that certainly, if I could
have had my way, the whites and the blacks in
South Africa would have worked out their social
and political problems without a suspicion of
bloodshed. But the collective interests of nations
look upon Africa in a different light. I was soon
led to observe that, so far as Africa was con
cerned, the interests of human society on the
whole, and ideas of social justice in particular,
were represented for the most part by shiploads
of rum and rifles, by the debauching of Kaffir life.

TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES IN AFRICA 75
the almost fiendish search for gold and diamonds,
and the harrying of the Boers from the Cape to
the Zambesi.
On my first trip with a wagon and oxen I
shipped as a sort of " dead-head," learning the
business. My second venture was with my own
outfit. The route, with a load of miscellaneous
merchandise, was from Durban in Natal to Beth
lehem in the Orange Free State. I hired a driver
for the trip, a good-natured mission Kaffir. His
name was Grumpy. He could handle a whip, cook
a meal, speak English after a fashion, swear,
drink, and steal upon occasion with the best of his
profession. In the matter of stealing, however, he
drew the line at his own master. To me he was in-
corruptibly honest. So far as cheating and gen
eral iniquity were concerned, he never tired of re
minding me that he had been educated in a school
of experts, that is, of white men. I shall never for
get the first time Grumpy reminded me of this
fact. His first month's wages consisted of a hand
ful of silver coins, among which there happened
to be a florin, that is, a two-shilling piece. Taking
my ignorance for granted, he held the coin up be
fore me and looked at if half sneeringly, as if it
contained a dangerous or snake-like quality. Then
grinning from ear to ear he said, "Baas, that's a
Scotchman." Of course I demanded an explana
tion, and his story substantially was as follows : —

76 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
"When I was still at my kraal in Swaziland, a
number of years ago, the boys coming home from
the Diamond Field brought news that they had
been cheated. You must understand," Grumpy
explained, "our boys are particularly fond of sil
ver coins. Bulk means a good deal in Kaffirland.
In buying cows and swapping them for wives there
is nothing like a heap of silver coins to count and
shuffle and squabble about. But you see. Baas, at
that time the green Kaffirs did n't understand the
difference in value, or notice the difference in size,
between a florin and a half-crown piece. Well,
once upon a time, hundreds of these Kaffir boys
had been working all winter long, road-making
and trench-digging near Kimberley, and when the
time came, the contractor, who was a Scotchman,
paid them their wages for the most part in florins,
but counted them as half-crown pieces, and pock
eted the difference. When the trick was discovered
the contractor had departed. But Kaffirs never
forget an injury of this kind; consequently, ever
since, through the length and breadth of Kaffir-
land, a florin is known as a Scotchman."
Before long Grumpy and I became fast friends,
and not once did he abuse the trust I placed in
him. In posting me on the geography of the coun
try, on the methods of handling the oxen, and on
the other details of wagon-life, his services were
invaluable. At the same time no schoolmaster

TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES IN AFRICA 77
could possibly have been more patient or have
taken more pleasure in explaining to me the
proper intonation and meaning of words in his
Kaffir vocabulary.
Grumpy and his companions were great smok
ers. On the trek at night, after the oxen had been
securely fastened to the yokes, it was customary
for the boys to construct in the soil a sort of tun
nel about two inches high and ten or twelve feet in
length and fill it with water. At one end the pipe-
bowl was inserted, at the other end the mouth
piece. Then the boys, lying flat on their stomachs,
rolled over in turns and inhaled great gulps of the
intoxicating fumes. At such times, after I came to
understand their language in some degree, I de
lighted to retire to my bunk on top of the wagon-
load and listen, sometimes until midnight, to the
orations, all about terrible fights and prodigious
feasts, with which the boys regaled each other be
tween their turns at the pipe.
But this first trip into the Free State with
Grumpy as factotum was particularly memorable
on account of an unfortunate experience on my
first hunting expedition.
We had successfully scaled the Drakensburg
Mountains and were encamped one afternoon at a
drift of the Wilge River, when a couple of Boers
came along and invited me to go hunting with
them for an hour or two. I possessed a good rifle

78 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
and a splendid shooting pony, so without delay
we set out in search of the game. And game
enough there was, to be sure. We were hardly out
of sight of our wagons when, cantering over a
"rise," we came in plain view of a great herd of
blesbok, the head of the column close at hand,
with a long string behind it stretching out, it
seemed, for miles, clear to the horizon. Catching
sight of us, the mass as with one accord got under
way and, headed by a number of leaders, tore
across the veldt directly in front of us in a terrific
stampede. My companions knew just what to do
under the circumstances, and before I had suf
ficiently recovered from the excitement of the gal
lop to be able to aim straight, five or six of the
animals had already succumbed to their skillful
marksmanship. It was my first hunt and I sup
pose I was crazy with excitement; nevertheless,
ever since I have always been heartily ashamed of
my almost fiendish behavior that afternoon as
a sportsman. I had always supposed that if
I should fire deliberately at a house or a mountain,
I could manage to hit it in some way. But after fir
ing shot after shot as fast as I could ram the cart
ridges into my rifle, at a solid mass of galloping
blesboks, I soon began to wonder what on earth
had become of the bullets. Apart from the bles
boks there was actually nothing in sight to aim at
but the sky.

TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES IN AFRICA 79
Meanwhile the Boers, continuing the hunt in
their own way, aiming at animals, not at herds,
had galloped off in different directions while the
bewildered blesboks, cut up into panic-stricken
squadrons by the galloping hunters, were tearing
across the plains in different directions, for all the
world like so many vanishing dust-storms. In less
than ten minutes from the time the herd had been
sighted I stood alone on the veldt at the side of
my horse, bemoaning my luck, and pondering on
the next move.
But no, I was not alone after all. On a hillock
some two hundred yards away I sighted a solitary
bull blesbok. He was calmly surveying me and
my pony in the most inquisitive manner. "Going
to drop dead in a minute or two," I said to my
self. So I waited. I had only one cartridge left in
my belt and I might need that, I soliloquized, to
kill something else on the way back to the wagons.
But it seems the old ram on the hillock had plans
of his own, for suddenly he wheeled round and
ambled slowly away, whipping the air with a
broken and dangling hind leg. In a second I was
in the saddle and after him. But the faster I gal
loped, the nimbler the old buck became on his
three legs. I could scarcely believe my senses.
He could trot and "triple" and gallop at will.
But if I could n't shoot straight, I had learned as
a boy to ride anything and everything in the shape

80 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
of a horse, and on this occasion my pony was a
jewel of his kind. If I could remember them I
should certainly be ashamed to give the details of
that first African gallop across the veldt, dodging
a labyrinth of holes, ant-hills, and boulders. It
was a cruel errand. That pony was wing-footed,
eagle-eyed, and remorseless; the game old blesbok,
lumbering along ahead of us and now at last eas
ing up a little, was doomed. In the end he sim
ply halted, faced us, and awaited our approach.
The tragedy was then completed with my last
bullet. But the end of the adventure was not yet. The
primitive methods whereby in the dusk of the
evening I beheaded and skinned that animal
would better not be described. Let it suffice to
say that in a few minutes I started on my return
to the wagons with the hide and the hind quar
ters of the blesbok securely fastened behind my
saddle. But I had never given a thought to the course
I had taken in my gallop across the veldt. I kept
on and on, and before long it grew dark and some
what cold. So I dismounted, and after thinking it
over, I knee-haltered the horse and let him go,
crept head first into a large ant-bear hole for a
night's lodging, and made myself as comfortable
as was possible under the circumstances, using the
blesbok hide for a blanket.

TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES IN AFRICA 81
The night was dark as pitch. Sleep was out of
the question. I suppose that it was the haunches
and the raw hide that attracted the creatures, but
before long it really seemed as if I had settled
down in a village of wild pigs and insulted the
whole community. To begin with, squeaking inces
santly, they seemed to be racing round and round
in a circle, taking me for its centre. Then a num
ber of jackals, drawing nearer and nearer, joined
in the chorus. But I soon discovered that if I dis
liked the noise I fairly dreaded the silence. Dur
ing the quiet spells I knew that something was
chewing industriously at the projecting ends of
the raw hide in which I was enveloped. It was
hard work for me to keep kicking incessantly, but
whenever I rested for a minute the chewing devel
oped into vigorous and vicious tugs, the signi
ficance of which it was easy for one in my position
to appreciate.
However, I kicked the night through in safety,
and early in the morning, to my delight, I found
my horse a short distance away, nibbhng con
tentedly at his breakfast.
My troubles, however, were by no means ended.
I spent the day as I had the evening before, wan
dering on and on without sighting a farmhouse or
a scrap of a road. Luckily I had some matches,
and at noon I built a fire and had some blesbok
steak to eat, and when night came again, the blaze

82 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
I made kept the jackals and pigs at a distance. The
following day, the third after leaving my wagons,
I was rescued in a curious manner.
Approaching a "krantz" or stony hillock, I was
leading my horse through the high grass, when
suddenly right in front of me up jumped a little
bit of a Bushman boy about three feet high, and
scampered away in the direction of the krantz.
Then I noticed something like a tent on the hill
side, behind which the little oddity took refuge.
In another minute I found myself in the presence
of a Bushman and his wife. They were of the half-
domesticated variety. The man could speak a
few Dutch words and I had little difficulty in ex
plaining my situation. He belonged to a Free
State Boer, but at the time was on a pilgrimage of
some kind and had halted for the day to doctor a
snake-bite from which he was suffering. After
loading their stomachs with my blesbok meat,
I set out again with the Bushman as guide. Just
before sundown we came in sight of our wagons.
Grumpy had no difficulty in persuading me that
for two days I must have been wandering round
in a circle.
My next picture has the Boers for its centre
piece. For a while, after I had made sufficient
money at the "transport" business to enable me
to trade a little on my own account, I made my
headquarters in the Komati district on a farm.

TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES IN AFRICA 83
the property of a man named Prinsloo. I was trad
ing at the time and making trips in different di
rections. In all that region, where the Steyn, the
Joubert, and the Botha families predominated and
at a later date became renowned for their patriot
ism, there was no such hater and baiter of the
British as this man Prinsloo. And not without
reason. Being too old himself for active service,
he made up for it by perpetually rehearsing his
exploits and experience to the rising generation
and inspiring it with his heroic spirit.
In the struggle in South Africa, both past and
to come, the individuality of these rugged farm
ers was at stake. As the Boer looked at it, and
very reasonably, on the one side there were busi
ness and imperial interests, backed up by humbug
diplomacy; and on his own side there were the
simple issues of his home and his national exist
ence. Old man Prinsloo was not only saturated
with traditions and experiences of what he called
British tyranny, but his own family had a per
sonal grievance of the bitterest nature. He was by
no means blind to the benefits of civilization, and
being fairly well educated, he had, in an evil day,
sent his daughter to some private establishment
at the Cape, to be educated. It happened to be a
garrison town of some kind, where the red-coats
were continually coming and going. He lost track
of his child and that is all the outside world knew

84 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
about the case; but everybody understood what
had happened, and what was happening to young
girls all over the world, especially in small out-of-
the-way communities where scarlet jackets were
in camp or garrison. I have heard Africander wo
men allude to it under their breath as "the curse
of the redcoats." With this private affair added
to the national issue, Prinsloo's rage against the
British was simply titanic.
But to do justice to him and to account, in a
measure, for my personal estimate and impres
sions of these Boers, I will direct attention to an
other side of his character.
One evening while I was encamped on the high
veldt which, on their long trips from the Kaffir
Lands to the Diamond Fields, hundreds of natives
were at all times crossing, the weather took a most
unusual turn. It was in the spring of the year,
when all over these fire-swept and blackened flats
little tufts of green grass were beginning to sprout.
The game from the Bush Lands was arriving in
long strings and small herds, and traveling away
to the southward. On the evening in question a
snowstorm of unexampled severity — in fact
snowstorms were almost unheard of in that part
of the country — swept over these high lands.
That night, old as he was, Prinsloo drove round
among the farms in the district and collected a
large party of his friends and relations. About

TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES IN AFRICA 85
one o'clock in the morning the party arrived at
my encampment. For the most part the men
were on horseback, but there were also two or
three cape carts loaded with fuel and kettles and
coffee. A medley of voices aroused me from slum
ber with cries for blankets and coffee, with which
they knew I was well supplied. Then Prinsloo
himself jerked aside the canvas curtain from the
end of the wagon and explained to me that the
Kaffirs on the Kimberley highroad, a couple of
miles away, were huddling together in heaps and
freezing to death by the score.
It did not take the party long to get under way
again. Before morning every Boer in the district
was on the scene. The rescue of these naked un
fortunates on that snow-covered highway by
Prinsloo and his followers is the most pathetic and
one of the most humanly gratifying of my African
memories. But to return to the Prinsloo farm. One day
I returned from a short trip on horseback and
alighted at the farmhouse door. Prinsloo himself
came out and assisted me in caring for my horse.
For some time I had been trying to sell him
something or other, but on this occasion, when
I broached the subject as we were entering the
house, he dismissed the matter with the laconic
reply, " After the war, my boy, after the war."
The expression "After the war," was as old as the

86 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
first trek of the Boers northward from the Cape
Colony. It came in very handy in the common
affairs of life. For want of a better expression or
excuse, domestic arrangements, building opera
tions, or perhaps hunting trips and such like, year
in and year out, were being postponed until "after
the war." In this way its absolute certainty was
forever kept in the minds of the people. It was a
sort of perpetual echo that had floated down the
years from that never-to-be-forgotten day at
Slaghters Nek in the Free State, when a number
of Boer prisoners had been strung up like crimin
als, and their wives had been dragged to the scene
to witness the execution, as a lesson, it was said,
to future generations. Among children the words
must have filtered into the blood somehow. One
day I asked a little mite of a patriot to run on an
errand for me. He said he thought his mother
might not approve of his doing so. Personally,
however, he did n't object, and while he would n't
do it just then, he hoped to be able to earn a few
pennies from the "red-necks" in this way, "after
the war."
However, Prinsloo and I stepped into the house
and found therein quite a company of young
Boers, sipping coffee and smoking their pipes. I
understood in an instant that important business
was being discussed, and it did not take Prinsloo
long to enlighten me. I had barely taken my seat.

TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES IN AFRICA 87
when out it came, straight from the shoulder
somewhat in this way : —
"Look here, young man," he began, "some of
these fellows say they like you; they think you are
to be trusted. At any rate, when you sell us any
thing we usually get what we bargain for, which is
no small recommendation. But what I have to
tell you now is that affairs in our country have
just about come to a head, and as you have seen a
good deal and know a good deal about our cause
in this district, you must now get out on five
minutes' notice, or swear in, do you understand?
Swearing in," he continued, "doesn't mean that
you will be commanded to fight for us, but simply
that you must come under the Boer rule: keep
your mouth shut, and help us in any other way
you may choose."
Under these conditions it did n't take me long
to "swear in."
That same night there was a big gathering of
Boers in that neighborhood. It was nearly mid
night when they separated. On the following day
a column of redcoats on the main wagon-road to
Pretoria was attacked at Bronkhurst Spruit by
Boers coming from nearly every direction. The
British force was practically annihilated. Even
old man Prinsloo was satisfied. This was the be
ginning of the first Boer struggle for independ
ence in 1880.

88 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
The next is a scene from Kaffirland. I make no
apologies for my defense of the Kaffirs. My ad
miration for these people at that time is easily
understood. The original human stamp was
there, and you could study its manifestations to
your heart's desire. I confess that I was ignorant
at the time, and lacking in social experience;
nevertheless, I was mentally at war with the
artificialities and barbarities of civilization, and
I found much in these unadulterated Kaffirs to
renew my faith in human effort and human
sympathies. Some time before Sir Garnet Wolseley ap
peared upon the scene and burned their villages,
dynamited their caves, and, with the help of his
Zwasi allies, massacred the population, I was one
day swapping salt for Kaffir corn at the "stadt"
or town of a powerful chief of the Maccatees. His
name, I think, was Mampoor. As this was the
third or fourth visit I had made to this kraal,
I had the run of the place, and was on friendly
terms with the chief. On the occasion I am now
trying to describe he was seated, or rather squat
ting, in front of his hut. He was one of the finest-
looking specimens I ever saw of what was called a
refugee Zulu Kaffir, tall, light-skinned, stalwart,
and heavily fleshed. He knew how to combine
business with pleasure by methods unheard of in
civilized circles. At his side, jabbering inces-

TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES IN AFRICA 89
santly, was a buxom intombi or maiden. She was
next in order as his bride-elect. Once in a while
the huge frame of the chief quivered and gave a
sort of a chuckle as he happened to catch and en
joy one of her flattering remarks. But his atten
tion, for the most part, was concentrated on the
eloquence of three or four old men, minor chiefs
or indunas, who were squatting on the ground in
front of him.
These old men were trying to persuade the chief
to provide an extra ox or two for the grand cere
mony that was to take place in the afternoon. It
is the picture of this ceremony, with its lessons of
courage, endurance, and loyalty, that I wish now
to describe, to account in a measure for the fas
cination which, I confess, Kaffir life had for me at
the time.
In the centre of the town was a sort of com
mon, or large inclosure. At the time I entered,
inside the palisades, in a dense ring round the
edges, the whole population of the town was
massed. In a reserved centre space, a huge sacri-
flcial ox stood at bay within a ring of glittering
assegais. Squatted on the ground at a short dis
tance from the nose of the animal was the royal
butcher, horribly painted and befeathered. He
was addressing the animal and teUing him, in fit
ful screams, just what he was going to do to him
later on, and once in a while the butcher changed

90 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
his tone to a whine, and implored his victim, when
he felt the tickle of the assegai in his heart, not to
get excited about it, but to take his time and to
fall in such and such a way, with nose upturned
to the wide sky, in order that the omens might
be lucky, and the flesh untainted.
And just then, amid a terrific din of kettle
drums and the shouts of thousands, the boys
themselves, glittering and handsome, brandishing
their first spears and shields, entered the arena in
long procession. The feast was in their honor.
Their young hearts were filled with joy and tri
umph. The period of trial and purification was
over. For a whole moon period they had been out
among the rocks on the mountain-side, for the
most part hungry and thirsty and blanketless.
Their taskmasters had never let up on them for
one minute. They had been drilled and buffeted,
hammered with knob-kerries and pricked with
assegais and hardened up to the very acme of
daring and endurance. They were now to enter
manhood, and nothing remained but the triumph
and the feasting. One after another these war-
bedecked young warriors jumped out of the pro
cession into the arena and with frantic gestures
and marvelous limb-play told the assembly, in
passionate language, just what it is to be manly
and dexterous and stout-hearted. Each one in
turn was applauded.

TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES IN AFRICA 91
The young girls, here and there in bunches,
were jabbering incessantly and bubbling over with
delight, while a number of old hags, doubled up,
dried up, crooked beyond conception, and crazy
with excitement, ambled around the arena in
weird and trance-like gyrations. Then suddenly
the centre space was cleared of everything but the
ox and the dancing butcher. The assegai flashed
in the sunlight, and the feast was on.
For reasons, then, which may or may not be
apparent to my readers, I was in sympathy with
those dissatisfied Boers and those heathenish
Kaffirs. In my ignorance of, or dissatisfaction
with Society, I suppose I failed to appreciate
the forced relationship that, practically speaking,
existed and exists between profession and expe
diency. My mind, at the time, was honestly
crammed with precepts, proverbs, texts, and old
saws about liberty, the pursuit of happiness,
human rights and property rights; and with
these fundamentals forever buzzing in my brain,
I could not, for the life of me, account for the
conduct of Europeans in Africa. From my point
of view, then, with Christianity as a background,
the excuse for the African wars was reduced to the
simple objections of the ordinary traveler, that
the Kaffir, as a rule, lacked soap, and the Boer, as
a rule, forgot to shave.
I. It was at this stage of my mental and physical

92 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
experience in Africa that I met a certain indi
vidual, and immediately my whole line of thought
and interest was changed; and as the result,
within eight months I landed on American soil. It
was just after the capture of the Kaffir chief,
Sekukuni, by Sir Garnet Wolseley and his native
allies, the Zwasis, in 1879, 1 think.
I was crossing the high veldt at the time, on the
way from Leydenburg to Heidelburg. The jour
ney itself was very interesting for other reasons,
which cannot well be omitted from my narrative.
A few miles out of Leydenburg, the wagon-road
winds up the face of a precipitous mountain. With
anything but a clever span of oxen, the ascent
was long drawn out and extremely difficult. One
morning, on account of a break in the wagon-
gear, I was compelled to outspan some distance
from the summit of the hill. Shortly after the sun
had cleared the mountain-tops, the blanket of
mist in the long valley below quickly evaporated,
and exposed to view a remarkable scene.
A straggling column of Zwasi KaflBrs, about five
thousand in number, came out of the mist and
began to ascend the hill. They were returning
from the country of their hereditary enemies the
Maccatees, where they had been helping the Brit
ish to burn and sack their principal town. Here
and there could be seen small bunches of captured
cattle and women, and bringing up the rear was a

TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES IN AFRICA 93
long string of the wounded. Efforts had been
made in Leydenburg to provide treatment for
some of them in the hospitals; but what was the
use? When the main body arrived and marched,
chanting and jabbering, through the streets, the
patients tore off the bandages and were soon hob
bling along in the rear of the procession. Later,
when these unfortunates passed my wagon, in
stead of bandages there were patches of clay,
and in some of the more jagged wounds made by
potlegs and such missiles, which had been utilized
instead of bullets, there were plugs of twisted
grass. Recovery for these stout-hearted warriors
was a foregone conclusion.
It was on this occasion that I had the singular
fortune again to meet Peixoto. Like many other
adventurers, he had taken service and in the
course of time had become naturalized among
the Zwasis. His account of the campaign in Seku-
kuni's country was particularly interesting in re
lation to the development of his own character.
It seems he, with a troop of his Zwasi warriors,
had been left behind for a day or two to patrol
the mountains after the caves had been dyna
mited by the British. He affirmed, with savage
glee, that when he came away from the place, by
placing his ear to the ground he could still hear
dogs barking and children crying down below in
the sealed-up caves. He was glad, he said, he was

94 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
not a Christian; the Kaffir and Kaffir life were
good enough for him.
However, I continued rny journey, and one
evening was comfortably outspanned on the high
veldt when a large cape cart, drawn by four
horses, came along and made preparations to
camp alongside our wagons for the night. I hap
pened to have two or three very tame chickens
which were eating out of my hand and perching
at times on my shoulders. Very soon an elderly
man, one of a group which had arrived with the
cape cart, caught sight of the chickens and came
over to my wagon gayly clapping his hands.
With chickens as a point of contact, a conversa
tion ensued that was prolonged into the night
and continued with unabated interest the follow
ing morning. I told the man a good deal about my
self, my plans and my philosophy; and one thing
leading to another, he happened to strike into the
subject of Democracy and the United States. To
me, at the time, it was absolutely a new world of
thought. Before I met this man, had any one
asked me to define a Republican, very probably
I should have replied that he was a horrid sort of
a demagogue or disturber of society like Charles
Bradlaugh, who, on five minutes' notice, would,
perhaps, have shipped Queen Victoria to Botany
Bay.
i. As I call to mind our conversation, however.

TRAVEL AND ADVENTURES IN AFRICA 95
this man had a number of serious criticisms to
make of the tendencies of democratic government
in the United States. Nevertheless, he drew, for
my benefit, a brilliant picture of its principles and
possibilities, and before his analysis was finished,
my interest and enthusiasm in the matter were
aroused to the highest pitch. Finally he gave me
a good deal of inside history in regard to affairs,
and consequently in regard to my own prospects,
in Africa, for a number of years to come, and he
strongly advised me to make the best of my way
to the United States.
This man was the celebrated war correspond
ent known to Americans in particular, as well as
to all the world, as "Bull Run Russefl."
As soon, then, as I was able to dispose of what
little stock and interests I owned in the country,
I set out on the long trip to America.

IV

IMPRESSIONS OF NEW ENGLAND IN THE
EIGHTIES

Having made up my mind to leave South
Africa, it did not take me long to get under way.
The situation at the time, political and otherwise,
was not very promising. With outspoken sym
pathy for Boers and Kaffirs, my prospects were
anything but bright. In most of the towns, Brit
ish sentiment was very aggressive, and personal
encounters between Uitlanders and Africanders
were of daily occurrence. As a matter of fact,
there was nearly as much danger in leaving the
country as there was in remaining and facing the
music. But having made up my mind, I selected
the easiest route and that was by way of the Dia
mond Fields. On a former visit to these fields
I had got a glimpse of their interesting activities,
and I was anxious to widen the experience. So
I made my plans to travel from Pretoria to Kim
berley, and thence to the Cape.
Just before leaving Pretoria, however, I met a
prospector by the name of James. He was one of
those enthusiastic individuals who never take no

NEW ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTIES 97
for an answer, or defeat for an end. He had been
one of the first on the ground at the Pilgrims'
Rest Gold Fields, and when speculation grew tame
in that quarter, he turned his attention to Rus-
tenburg and to the district now known as the
Rand. When I met James in Pretoria the future of
the Rand, with commerce and railroads and
Johannesburg and billions of gold in the moun
tains, was already clearly mapped out in his pro
phetic yet practical imagination. In fact, he had
the samples of quartz in his saddle-bags at the
time, and he was quietly trying to raise the funds
wherewith to purchase a few farms in the district,
upon which his faith in the Transvaal and his
hopes for his own future were pinned. His enthu
siasm was contagious. His was the inspiration de
rived from a certainty. I was sorely tempted to
embark, in a small way, in his venture. Indeed,
I actually put off my departure for a day or two,
hesitating. But James could not wait for me or anybody
else. The gold fever was already in the air, the
price of farms in the promising districts was on the
jump, and altogether the situation was vastly dif
ferent from the days at the end of the Burgers'
administration, when a farm of six thousand acres
was actually exchanged for two bottles of Hen
nessey's "three star" brandy.

98 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
But mental and political considerations were
more potent than the glitter of gold dust or the
dreams of riches. So, finally, I purchased a pas
sage on the Kimberley coach and made my exit
from the Transvaal.
The Diamond Fields at the time of my last
visit was without doubt one of the most peculiar
and interesting spots on the face of the earth.
Their desolate, sun-baked surroundings, the
diamond-crazed faces of the inhabitants, the ab
solute fury of the social and business conditions,
and above all, that awful "pit" with its hive of
toiling humanity in the bowels of the earth, are
never-to-be-forgotten features of my African ex
perience. If I were not positive, however, that
these scenes and conditions made such a lasting
impression on my mind as to influence, in some
degree, the current of my human philosophy, I
should now dismiss the Diamond Fields without
further comment. But the impressions were last
ing, and the pictures that remain in my mind are
most interesting. In passing, then, let me take a
final glance at the strange panorama.
Kimberley was not then the city of to-day. The
pit itself was its principal and its unforgettable
feature. Forever widening and deepening, it was
constantly forcing the houses away and back from
its edges. Everywhere on these edges, shanties
and barrooms and brokers' offices were literally

NEW ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTIES 99
hanging. Farther back there were streets, hotels
by the dozen, and a wide market-place. Scattered
in tents, wagons, and houses on the surrounding
plain were thousands of white men, thousands of
Kaffirs, and here and there a woman. Over the
town itself, during the daytime, there was a daz
zling glare from a sea of white iron roofs. The pit
itself, as far down as the eye could penetrate, was
a labyrinth of steel wires and flying buckets, for
ever hoisting, darting hither and thither, and
emptying their precious loads of slimy blue clay.
Everywhere on the enormous wings and ends of
the pit, terraces rose above terraces, all of them
lined with puffing engines, and swarming with
human dots.
At the time of my last visit to these diamond
fields the community was divided into two hostile
camps, consisting of legitimate and illegitimate
brokers. The former had offices and a license, the
latter scorned expense and control of any kind,
and had dealings directly, and on the quiet, with
the Kaffirs in the pit. The Kaffir laborers were
just then beginning to understand the opportuni
ties connected with their employment, and scores
of valuable stones were finding their way into the
market and giving no end of trouble to the legi
timate dealers. When a Kaffir was caught at the
game he received an unmerciful thrashing from
the vigilance committee, and occasionally was

100 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
strung up on a lamp-post, for there were no trees
in the vicinity. But the thrashed Kaffir went home
to his kraal and thought it all over; he inevitably
returned with all sorts of ingenious devices for
concealing the gems on his naked person, which he
perforated with holes and tunnels, and in his
stomach, which he manipulated in various ways
at will. Finally, in course of time, the mine itself
was surrounded by a high fence and a rigid sys
tem of examination was instituted by the authori
ties. Its principal features were emetics, tapping
the bodies to locate the cavities, and hanging by
the neck; but at the time I left the Fields this
naked Kaffir thief was still the unsolved problem.
I took passage for Cape Town on the "Royal
Mail " cart. It was then known as the "Diamond
Express." The fare was double that charged on
the ordinary diligence. The equipment was a
small two-wheeled cart, four horses or mules, a
Hottentot driver, the mail-bags, and a single pas
senger. The stages were about two hours, "on
horseback," apart, and the pace was a breakneck
gallop, night and day, four hundred miles, from
Kimberley to Beaufort, — the latter was then the
terminus of the railroad, — and hence to Cape
Town. In this way, then, without further adventure,
I took my departure from South Africa.

NEW ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTIES 101
n
In looking back I always find that the days
spent in South Africa are among the most useful
and personally interesting of my career. Just at
the time when my intellectual and religious de
velopment was being subjected to tests, on the
outcome of which to quite an extent the direction
of my activities for the future was dependent, a
sort of physical appeal to my manhood and to my
human sympathies was experienced. It is quite
clear to me now that a healthy and vigorous body
and an adventurous spirit, such as I acquired in
South Africa, were among the essential character
istics that later on enabled and encouraged me to
go to work on wider problems than were to be
found in the surroundings and routine of a switch-
tower. The voyage from Cape Town, South Africa,
to Boston, Massachusetts, was uneventful; and
there was not an incident connected with it, or a
personage met on the way, that calls for atten
tion. I arrived in Boston in the month of May, 1881.
So far as my acquaintance with a single inhabi
tant of the United States was concerned, I might
just as well have dropped down from the moon.
I was almost as ignorant of the geography of the
country as was Columbus at the time he was try
ing to figure out the location of the continent in

102 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST',
the western hemisphere. My personal interest in
the country dates from my conversation with
"Bull Run" Russell; and backed by a roving dis
position, and a mind that was just beginning to
develop its world-interest, I came over to America
to investigate. My people in different parts of the
world had already given me up as an irreclaimable
wanderer. Following along the lines of my special interest,
then, I began by spending some time wandering
about the streets of the city of Boston, studying
manners, conditions, and people. I had a little
money in my pocket, and I was in no particular
hurry to make myself known or to settle down at
a fixed occupation. I visited churches, factories,
stores, theatres, dance-halls, and the slums. To a
certain extent, under different conditions, I had
behaved in a similar manner in South America and
Africa; but my points of view had been changing
and, when I arrived in Boston I was no longer a
boy, trying to protect myself from Society and so
cial temptations, but a man of considerable expe
rience, with a more or less definite purpose.
My personal appearance at the time was a little
out of the ordinary. I wore a corduroy coat with
a belt, very negligee shirts, and on my wrists were
a number of copper rings or Kaffir bangles, popu
larly worn by white people of those days in many
parts of South Africa. But, to my mind, I was by

NEW ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTIES 103
no means as picturesque as the average Bostonian
of the period. For one thing, the coat of the day
was ridiculously short, and the significant feature
of the male countenance was the popular "mut
ton-chop" patch on the cheeks, which hitherto
I had always associated with the box-seat of a
carriage. Still more astonishing was the costume of the
women : hideous "barber-pole" skirts, which gave
an up-and-down appearance to the faces, were
supplemented by greasy-looking curls or ringlets
patched indiscriminately on the forehead and oc
casionally on the back of the neck. Added to this
was the huge, yet in some way jaunty, projection
or bustle that brought up the rear of this typical
female ensemble of the early eighties.
Turning from people to conditions, however,
the situation at the time appeared to be some
thing of a paradox. Taking into account the man
ifest energy and resourcefulness of the people. It
was difficult to account for the unsatisfactory so
cial conditions that existed, it would seem, almost
unobserved. Beggars were numerous, side streets
were filthy, in some districts loafers and drunk
ards on the sidewalks seemed to constitute a ma
jority of the people In sight, while on some of the
streets the soliciting heads of women at windows
could be noticed in rows, and counted by the
dozen. This state of affairs elicited but little com-

104 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
ment in newspapers or otherwise, and I myself,
like the community at large, looked upon it all as
more or less inevitable.
But when I turned from this social and eco
nomic survey of the mental and personal activi
ties of the average New Englander of those days, a
remarkable state of affairs, in which I was in
tensely interested, was unfolded. Society at the
time, from top to bottom, was absorbingly inter
ested in personal culture and development of every
description. In the year 1881, self-culture was the
supreme topic in the public mind, much as is so
cial and industrial betterment at the present day.
Notable among the teachers of this personal
religion were Phillips Brooks, and William H.
Baldwin, of the Boston Young Men's Christian
Union. There were many others, but I was parti
cularly impressed by the wide human sympathy
that permeated the individualistic doctrines of
these men. It was through Mr. Baldwin that
I was able to come in contact with people who were
actively engaged in spreading the propaganda of
personal development and personal responsibility
so congenial to me.
After a month or two spent in circumspection of
this kind in and around the city of Boston, I be
gan to think about securing some kind of employ
ment. Very naturally I turned my attention to
the telegraph business with which, already, I was

NEW ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTIES 105
more or less conversant. After some preliminary
breaking-in, I secured a temporary position at
Hancock, New Hampshire, and then a permanent
one as a telegraph operator in a railroad office at
East Deerfield, Massachusetts.
Thus my personal venture on the sea of Ameri
can social life and Industry was made. Intellectu
ally, my equipment at the time was very crude.
Religiously, so far as affiliations were concerned,
I was in a sort of personal dreamland, in which,
I confess, I am still thankfully and joyously floun
dering. In the distance the problems of American
life were beginning to take form on the horizon,
and there was no mistaking the nature of the rud
der with which I was preparing to navigate into
the beckoning future.
Shakespeare has divided the itinerary of im
aginary human pilgrims Into a number of charac
teristic stages. He takes "the whining school
boy," and conducts him through a series of
adventures from stage to stage, until, finally, in
old age, tottering in limbs and faculties, with
"shrunk shank" and "childish treble," he ends
his strange eventful history in mere oblivion.
But the thinking man on the upward climb,
pausing at Intervals and looking backward, has or
should have a much more vital and interesting ex
perience to chronicle than is contained in Shake
speare's theatrical conception. On the whole.

106 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
either in tendency or emphatically, the man has
been one of two things — either his associations,
and the inner impulse coming down from the
inscrutable past, have been carrying him along
and directing his movements this way or that, or,
on the other hand, his will in great and small,
consciously and persistently, has been hewing
a personal trail through a forest of difficulties.
With individual progress of the latter description
my story has now to deal. m
From the standpoint of conditions on railroads
at the present day, the buildings and equipment
at East Deerfield at the time of my first appear
ance on the scene were decidedly primitive. The
principal structure was a long pier-like shed,
erected on piles, on one end of which my head
quarters, the telegraph office, was poised at an
ever-shifting angle, according to the weather and
the moisture, or lack of it, in the ground. In the
rear of the office there was a long wooden building
with facilities for the transfer of freight. Again,
close at hand, there was an engine-house, a coal-
elevator, a building used for the storage of flour,
and an extensive freight yard. The buildings and
facilities, however, were not much ahead of the
methods that were employed in taking care of the
property that was being hauled over the railroad.

NEW ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTIES 107
Shortly after my arrival I noticed in one of the
sheds several pieces of merchandise for which
owners were wanted. The marks on these pack
ages were very indistinct. Some one had been
guessing at the consignees' names and addresses,
and the stuff was at East Deerfleld to be guessed
at again, and forwarded accordingly. But in pur
suit of articles of this description, as I found out
later, there Inevitably came along, sooner or
later, what was known as a "tracer." Sometimes
the tracer came ahead of the goods; sometimes the
goods came ahead of the tracer. In any case,
the two items were forever in pursuit of each
other, and, besides, there was a specially em
ployed railroad official, who did nothing but travel
from place to place in a desperate endeavor to
make the fugitives connect. In one instance a bale
of cotton, indistinctly marked, made tours of the
United States in this way, and on the second year
of its pilgrimage the tracer that was hunting for it
was as bulky as any history of the country for the
same period.
But my life and surroundings at East Deerfield
can be better illustrated by a glance at my com
panions and fellow workers. From these men I
derived my first ideas of Americans as individuals,
and of some of their characteristics. And more par
ticularly my attention was directed to the type
commonly spoken of as the Yankee. To me, at

108 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
the time, he was a puzzling personality. I was
given to understand that he was world-famous as
the man with a "knack." During the period of my
initiation at East Deerfield, three of these typical
New Englanders formed almost exclusively the
circle of my social and business acquaintance
ship. The first man I will simply refer to as Henry.
He was a big fellow in every way, except perhaps
In the matter of brains. But in his case this was
not much of a drawback. That which in most peo
ple would be looked upon as unforgivable "bluff,"
in him was simply an overflow of animal spirits.
His conversation, containing neither rhyme nor
reason, was always on the rampage. His natural
ability was insignificant, but his failures were all
turned into pleasantries which became the step
ping-stones to continued enterprise in other direc
tions. His happy-go-lucky disposition dispensed
with formalities and made light of impediments,
and as as result, in course of time, while I and
others were at a standstill Henry bounded from
one lucrative situation to another, until finally he
settled down as mayor of a city in Connecticut.
From this man I got my first idea of Yankee push
and assurance.
The word "type" is frequently misunderstood
and misapplied. Henry, for Instance, was not a
typical Yankee. He was a variation from the

NEW ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTIES 109
type, and a very forcible embodiment of one or
two Yankee characteristics.
My second companion at East Deerfield I will
call Jake. I cannot say that his occupation at
East Deerfield could be taken as an Index to his
character, but it is somewhat difficult to think of
them apart. He had charge of the flour-house at
the back of the freight yards. He was working for
one of the wealthiest and best-known business
combinations in the country.
One evening Jake received a telegram instruct
ing him to send three shipments of flour of differ
ent quality or brand to three widely separated
points in New England. He happened to be in a
hurry that evening, so he asked me to help him in
rolling the barrels from the house Into the car.
Jake began operations with the matter-of-fact
statement, " I have n't got a single barrel of the
brands that are called for, but just watch me
make them." So he went to work and gave me a
demonstration of how quality can be imparted to
flour and stamped on a barrel In the form of a
brand, in a very few minutes, with the aid of
a scraper, a little paint, and a stencil.
Jake was a business variation from the original
Yankee stem. Of course, the instance I have
given is only an Illustration of a practice that was
followed In that flour-house year in and year out.
But the genuine, fully equipped, and right-

110 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
minded Yankee at East Deerfield was the station
agent, Mr. F. A. Field. From the day of my ar
rival, without interruption, until I left the place, I
was attached to him in a close social and business
relationship. Under his friendly tutelage, I soon
acquired a fairly comprehensive insight into so
cial and industrial conditions in America. In age,
Mr. Field was my senior by four or five years. So
far as knowledge of human nature and human so
ciety was concerned, he was also far and away my
superior. Furthermore, at the telegraph key, in
directing the movement of trains and the activi
ties of men, in fact, in all the important and intri
cate duties of a railroad yard-master, I have never
since met his equal. For the rest, he was a widely
informed man, shrewd, honest, tenacious of his
opinions, and interested in the world to an
absorbing degree. His general vitality can be
understood from one of his favorite remarks, "I
can never allow myself to grow old."
But to my mind, the outstanding feature of his
character was his social and economic enthusiasm.
Backed by columns of facts and figures, he stud
ied the signs of the times, and applied his own
sympathetic brand of social philosophy to their
interpretation. He was particularly interested in
my educational ideas and programme, and the
benefit I derived from his companionship was
inestimable.

NEW ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTIES 111
In regard to the recognition of personal merit,
and the preservation of Individual initiative in
human society, Mr. Field and I were of one mind,
but I remember distinctly we took different sides
on the subject of favoritism In the railroad service.
I Insisted that, as a rule, the energetic, capable
man was selected, regardless of friendships, and
so forth; he contended that the exceptions to the
rule were intolerable. It was plain to us both that
the manager was to blame; but, alas, the manager
himself was sometimes appointed in the same
way. But Field's philosophical circumspection was
not confined to the railroad service. He consid
ered his country from one end to the other, with
its boundless acreage and resources, and when he
thought of the lamentable lack of food, clothing,
and decent housing conditions among the masses,
he refused to be comforted. So the remedy and
the reform were forever the topics of his conversa
tion. In course of time, one after another, the
popular panaceas, such as the single tax, popu
lism, and free silver, came up for discussion. In
connection with them all, in their time, Mr. Field
could plainly discern the signs of social salvation
on the horizon. I, on the other hand, anticipated
the awakening of the social conscience, and I be
lieved in the gradual and natural evolution of the
existing order of things.

112 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST ,
At any rate, this was the school at East Deer
field in which my individualistic opinions first
came in contact with the practical problems of
life. Mr. Field's home was on a farm, situated on the
Connecticut River, near Montague, Massachu
setts. Here, for a number of years, I was privi
leged to consider myself as one of the family.
From the social and literary points of view, a
more delightful environment could not be imag
ined. Our discussions, which to me were so vi
tally interesting, were frequently started in the
office at East Deerfield, continued along the rail
road tracks on the way home, and taken up again
after supper, amid a circle of interested listeners.
IV
The story of my intellectual development in the
school of discussion, with Frank Field as inter
preter, of American life and conditions has over
lapped my business experience in the telegraph
office. Turning now to this side of my personal
progress, my most vivid impression of American
railroad life in those days was produced by man's
inhumanity to man. Neither the social conscience
of the community, nor the personal conscience of
the employee, paid any attention to the sacrifice
of life on the railroads that the nation was paying
to the blind spirit of industrial progress. In the

NEW ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTIES 113
business itself this lamentable state of affairs was
basic, and its effect was far-reaching. For exam
ple, in some of the departments it was considered
nothing less than a crime to be a beginner. The
green brakeman and the green telegraph operator
were the most conspicuous victims of this under
standing. Only those who have run the gauntlet
of this experience can have any idea of Its bitter
ness. Without preliminary Instructions of any
kind, a man was assigned to a freight train; in
three cases out of five the next thing for the rail
road to do was to bury him. It was the link
and pin, the overhead bridge, or the stealthy
freight car on a flying switch, that closed the
accounts. I was in at the death in a hundred such cases,
and, although blood was as red and hearts were as
warm then as to-day, there seemed to be no power
on earth, or incentive in the human mind, to move
people to action In the matter. As with the mind
of a child, I suppose, so with that of a nation;
civilized ideas have a fixed order of development
and decay. Social sympathy is the last born of so
cial conceptions. In the early eighties evidence of
social responsibility, in the slaughter on railroads,
was confined to the sign on the crossing, "Look
out for the engine!"
From the fact that my mind was neither ob
scured by traditions nor influenced by commer-

114 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
cialism, the situation on the railroads in those
days was more incomprehensible to me than the
deplorable social conditions in South America. In
discussion with Mr. Field "the accident" was one
of our standard topics, and every word I have
written on the matter since owes its vitality to the
vivid impressions I received in those first years at
East Deerfield.
The railroad itself in those days, and particu
larly the train service, was looked upon by the
public as a semi-disreputable business. New Eng
land parents, for example, never thought of map
ping out a future for their boys in any depart
ment of railroad life. The consensus of opinion on
the subject was by no means unreasonable, for the
train and yard crews, especially, were recruited,
generally speaking, from the floating army of mis
fits and breakdowns to be found at all times in
every community. The average railroad tele
grapher, that is, the veteran, was emphatically a
suspect of this description.
But the recruiting of the telegraph service was
conducted in a field by itself. Generally speaking,
if a telegraph operator held on to his job for two
or three months, he was considered unusually
reliable. Consequently, with so much shifting
and discharging of men on every railroad in the
country, beginners were always in demand. Al
most without exception, these beginners were

NEW ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTIES 115
drawn from respectable homes in the country. In
most instances, however, these boys and girls
drifted to the railroad as students, against the
wishes of parents. After a short period of train
ing, they were placed In charge of offices at night.
Their duties consisted in sending and receiving
a variety of orders relating to the movements of
trains, and in seeing to it that these orders were
clearly understood by the trainmen.
Humanly speaking, these young boys and
girls, some of them just out of school, had no more
business in these telegraph offices than so many
untutored savages. For the railroad business was
not then the simplified system of to-day. It was
complicated by the use of green, white, red, and
blue signals, and by a score of rules and under
standings, in the confusion of which the right of
way on single track was frequently in doubt, and
was sometimes figured out by conductors and
others after considerable argument. In the midst
of it all, the inexperienced operator sat in the tele
graph office, frequently with a trembling heart,
handing out train-orders, during the execution of
which human lives were at all times hanging in the
balance. It was the green telegraph operator of those
days, then, and I was one of them, who, witness
ing the slaughter and understanding many of its
causes, felt the inhumanity of the whole situation

116 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
In double degree, and the following was one of the
most significant reasons.
In everyday conversation a polite request for
the repetition of a word or a remark would occa
sion no comment whatever; but anything of the
kind on the telegraph wires, in those days, in re
gard to figures or words misunderstood, was
nearly always the signal for a "roast" from the
man at the other end of the wire, in which the
beginner was treated to a lurid description of
his personal and professional shortcomings. Stu
dents, or "plugs," as they are called, frequently
succumbed to this treatment and resigned their
positions In dismay; and of those who weathered
the storm, the majority became more afraid of the
hectoring they anticipated than they were of
making mistakes, and for this reason fatalities
were continually being traced to the door of the
nervously bewildered beginners. The unreason
able behavior of the experienced men was not a
matter of design, or temperament : it was simply
a habit that a nerve-racking state of affairs
seemed to instill into everybody from the super
intendent downward; and thus the beginners
themselves, when they, in turn, had climbed to
positions of responsibility, resorted, without fail,
to the same practices.
Personally, I was just thick-skinned enough to
worry through this breaking-in period without

NEW ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTIES 117
serious results. But it was the first phase of the
personal problem in the railroad service to which
my attention was directed, and the inspiration
for all my subsequent analysis of conditions on
American railroads was derived from the vivid
ness of these early impressions.
Just as soon, however, as I became fairly con
versant with my duties at East Deerfield, I turned
once more to the wider interests of education and
personal development, to which I had renewed
my allegiance on my arrival in Boston.

My sojourn at East Deerfield may be termed
aptly the reading period of my life. Once In a
while, indeed, I thought about writing down some
of my observations, but I was always held in
check by the lack of statistics and information
outside my immediate surroundings, and above
all I felt the pressing need of a more extensive
vocabulary. I think It was in my second year at
East Deerfield, that I turned to my English dic
tionary to appease this craving for words. My
delight in the occupation can, I think, only be
properly appreciated by the student who, in his
youth, has wrestled enthusiastically with pas
sages In Homer or Virgil, turning over the leaves
of his dictionary, from left to right and from right
to left, hundreds of times In an evening, until.

118 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
utterly exhausted, he has fallen asleep, as I have,
with head at rest on the open volume.
For two or three years, while at East Deerfield,
I carried a small English dictionary in my pocket.
I never looked at it, however, except when on
railroad journeys, and on long walks which I de
lighted to take into the surrounding country. In
this way, I read the dictionary through word by
word, from cover to cover, three or four times, not
to mention the more important words, which re
ceived special attention and were re-investigated
in larger dictionaries.
Later, however, it became clear to me that
stowed away in my mind somewhere there had
been, from my school-days onward, words in
plenty, and ideas enough for my purposes. What
I really lacked was practice, conversationally and
with the pen, in the use of them. Not only was
my vocabulary sufficient, but in thinking it over
later I discovered and followed to its source the
method by which I acquired this vocabulary.
In presenting an argument, stating a case, or
pleading a cause, other things being equal, I al
ways attributed my intellectual advantage to the
fact that in my youth I had received a thorough
drilling in Latin and Greek, while my companions
as a rule, in my line of life, had not. As a simple
practical equipment for life's journey, what may
be called my classical foundation seems to me

NEW ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTIES 119
now to be worth all the other features of my
school education put together.
This reading stage of my life, together with the
study of the dictionary for a definite purpose, de
rived most of its inspiration from the literary
circle on the Field farm. My own intellectual
enterprise at the time, however, was not to be a
fitful dipping Into literature : it soon took form as
a simple scheme of education. That these kind
friends on the Field farm should know more than
I did about life and literature was to me an intol
erable situation. Every Indication of the kind,
and I noticed these Indications daily, was an addi
tional spur to exertion. And thus, with every
topic that was brought up for discussion, or al
luded to in those long winter evenings, there came
to me the ever-recurring question, "What do you
know about this matter?"
How full of inspiration to me at the time were
these literary gatherings ! How eagerly we used to
watch each other for the slightest indication of
originality in treatment or matter! It is true, I
was abnormally sensitive and enthusiastic at the
time. It was always up to me, I thought, to know
more than the other fellows; and my ambitions,
as I have said, took a definite and practical form.
In brief, then, what had I, comparatively a youth,
fresh from the wilds of Africa, to say. In the com
pany of these new-found American friends, about

120 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
religion, slavery, philosophy, history, and the
march of the human race from the time of the
cave-dwellers up to Emerson and Darwin? Here
was a definite outline of desired knowledge.
When men were spoken of, what did I know
about Plato and Mahomet, Alexander and Charle
magne, Csesar and Alfred, Shaftesbury and Lin
coln? How about the mighty roll of poets and
thinkers — Shakespeare and Milton, Gibbon and
Plutarch, Scott and Lecky, Darwin and Spencer,
Carlyle and Ruskin, Burns and Tennyson? But,
above all, what did I know about the great indus
trial and social problems of the day? All kinds —
grand, ridiculous, and menacing — were on the
horizon, and all sorts of startling schemes for so
cial betterment were being hatched from day to
day. Sooner or later they all came up, in some
form or other, in the Field circle, for debate.
What, then, did I know about socialism, the sin
gle tax, social democracy, and the labor move
ment? One night in the office at East Deerfield, the
necessity for a comprehensive course of reading
to take in nearly all of these subjects, dawned
upon me. I distinctly remember every detail of
that night's work and thought. Being Saturday
night and Sunday morning, there was little or no
thing on the road. I wrote everything down —
the topics, the authors, as many as I could call to

NEW ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTIES 121
mind, and the ideas, so far as my knowledge ex
tended at the time, and somewhat as it Is all out
lined above. I remember the first passenger train
from the West, the "Albany," was just whistling
into Greenfield when I finished my programme.
With me it is not now a case of recalling with an
effort this incident or that experience; every step
of my intellectual development at East Deerfield
is as well remembered as the exciting details of an
African hunting trip. This fact remains, then,
that I went to work and covered, as thoroughly as
I could, the literary ground outlined in the fore
going sketch of my ambitions.
During this period I also paid considerable at
tention to the works of Shakespeare. To begin
with, my delight in his genius was of a religious
nature. Although I still read my Bible occasion
ally, I no longer had the opportunity to attend
church services, and in some way Shakespeare
seemed to bring my religious instincts and faith
into practical contact with people and modern
life, to a degree that in my experience had never
been reached by the Bible. One of my favorite
topics at the time was the religion of Shakespeare
as it illuminated human Interests from the bot
tom to the top of the scale. There was no preach
ing in this religion : it consisted of vivid word-pic
tures and the impressions I derived from them. I
used to call attention to a series of these religious

122 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
pictures in the ascending order of their import
ance, somewhat as follows.
I began with the glorification of physical form
and expression. For example, I took a certain
degree of religious pleasure in the struggle and
methods of the brave swimmer beating the surges
under him and riding upon their back, as de
scribed by Francisco in "The Tempest." Then
again, that hymn of the horse in "Venus and
Adonis," ending, —
" Look, what a horse should have, he did not lack.
Save a proud rider on so proud a back," —
seemed to give spiritual sanction to my devotion
to animal life. From this lower plane the religion
of Shakespeare ascended in terrace above terrace
of ethical significance. Coriolanus and all-sacri
ficing mother-love, the victory of childish plead
ing over cruelty and brute force in the scene be
tween Arthur and Hubert in "King John"; the
"quality of mercy" passage in "The Merchant of
Venice"; the flashlight interpretation of the hu
man conscience, so vividly depicted as a knocking
at the gate, in "Macbeth"; these scenes all came
home to me as religious lessons applied to the hard-
pan of everyday human conditions.
And then again, unmistakable In its usefulness
to me at the time, was the chapel scene In "Ham
let," with its graphic analysis of a soul laid bare
on the pillory of repentance. Finally, in all the

NEW ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTIES 123
grandeur of its social and religious interpretation,
came the study of "The Tempest." To my mind,
at the time, this play was more than a poet's
dream of moral and social regeneration. It pointed
to chaos as the inevitable outcome of all govern
ment without spiritual guidance and discipline of
individuals. Calibans, Stephanos, and scheming
political Antonios, are forever and everywhere at
war with Prospero and his celestial agencies.
This study of Shakespeare was a three-cornered
undertaking carried on between the book in my
office, the theatres in Boston, and the Field farm.
During my stay at East Deerfield I worked, for
the most part on the night-shift, for something
like eight dollars a week. I saved a little money In
those days. Once in a while a proposition was
made in regard to an increase of salary, but I told
the authorities not to bother about It and they
did not. I had plans of my own, and seclusion on
that night job with its opportunity for study and
thought was absolutely essential. In course of
time, however, the night job was abolished, and I
was glad to fall heir to the day work at the same
place. But the old office at night had for me a strange
fascination. I got into the habit of returning there
in the evening for the purpose of reading and lis
tening to the business on the wire. Frequently I
remained at my desk until one or two o'clock in

124 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
the morning. The train-dispatcher soon became
accustomed to my presence, and sometimes asked
questions about trains. One night he gave an
emergency signal and asked me to rush down the
yard with my red light. I succeeded in stopping
the train, but, returning through the yard in a
hurry, I fell into an open culvert, and did not wake
up until daylight. When the superintendent heard
of it he said he would not forget it, and he kept his
word. But it was just about this time that what is
called telegrapher's cramp attacked my right
hand, and it then took me several months of con
stant application to bring my left hand into serv
ice and working order. Moreover, after my fall
into the culvert, my health began to show signs of
long-continued physical and mental strain, so I
determined to take a vacation.
I went to Boston and secured an outfit of pil
low-sham holders and started out, on foot, to
stock the State of New Hampshire with my mer
chandise. The venture was a great success so far
as my health was concerned.
In about three months I returned, and met the
superintendent of the Fitchburg Railroad on the
station platform at Fitchburg. I told him I was
ready to return to work. He replied, "All right,
and you may jump on the first pay car that comes
your way: there is something coming to you." I

NEW ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTIES 125
did so, and drew In a lump sum full pay for every
day of my three months' absence.
This superintendent was one of those unforget
table men of the old school, who "never made a
mistake." One night, while listening to the wire
at East Deerfield, I heard him call attention to
this fact in unmistakable language. In giving an
order to an engine to "run wild," a train-dis
patcher had forgotten to warn the englneman to
"look out for a snow-plough ahead"; conse
quently there was a smash-up. The dispatcher
told his chief about it on the wire and added, "We
are all liable to mistakes." The superintendent, a
dispatcher himself for twenty years, got hold of
the key and told the man what he thought of such
philosophy in the railroad business. He concluded
the dialogue in this way: "I never made a mistake
in my life and never Intend to. Come to Boston In
the morning."
This was the man, Mr. E. A. Smith, from whom
I derived all my ideas of duty and efficiency in the
railroad service. He retired from active duties a
few months ago. Forty-five years or so without a
mistake is a pretty good railroad record.
But before leaving East Deerfield, I wish to
mention another railroad man to whom, probably
without his knowledge, I was very much In
debted. He was the civil engineer who was
double-tracking the Fitchburg Railroad at the

126 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
time between Fitchburg and Greenfield. He is
still among us somewhere. The first time I saw
him he was standing on an abutment of a washed-
away bridge over the Millers River, near Erving,
I think it was. It was somewhere round midnight.
He was watching the effect of the rushing waters
on the temporary trestle that had just been con
structed. The energy and limitless resource of
this man while building the old Fitchburg Rail
road made a tremendous impression upon me.
Between Erving and MiUers Fafls, on what is
now the Boston and Maine Railroad, on the right
side going west, at or near the place where several
turns in the river-bed were cut out, there stands
in a vacant space a huge shaft of earth which is
pointed out to you by railroad men as "Turner's
Monument." His real monument, however, was
the men he left behind him to continue his per
sonal work and policy in nearly every department
of the service. They are, to-day, everywhere dis
tinguished among their fellows.
In course of time this railroad engineer became
superintendent of the division. His headquarters
were in Fitchburg. He was a stalwart individualist
— so it seemed to me, at any rate. He believed
in personal contact. His own private room in a
Fitchburg hotel was the sanctum into which the
men whom he sometimes selected, or intended to
promote, were invited, usually on a Sunday

NEW ENGLAND IN THE EIGHTIES 127
morning. My turn came for an invitation of this
nature. In brief, an interlocking tower had been
installed at West Cambridge; for such and such
reasons, he requested me to take one of the shifts.
Without any hesitation I accepted the appoint
ment for two or three very good reasons. In the
first place, it was to be a change from a twelve- to
an eight-hour situation; secondly, it would bring
me near Boston, the libraries, the lecture plat
forms, and the churches; and thirdly, by reason of
these shorter hours and the change of location, I
expected to be able to devote more time and study
to the great social and industrial problems of the
day, to which, at this time, I was beginning to
direct my attention.

V
MEN AND CONDITIONS ON THE RAILROADS

In the autumn of the year 1886, I left East
Deerfield and entered upon my new duties in the
switch tower at West Cambridge, Massachusetts.
From a position paying forty dollars a month, with
a minimum working-day of twelve hours, I passed
into employment that paid a wage of thirteen
dollars a week, with a minimum daily service of
eight hours. I went to work at two o'clock in the
early morning and, as a rule, I finished my labors
for the day when the clock struck ten in the fore
noon. The middle man followed from ten a.m.
until six P.M., and the third man then finished the
round of the twenty-four hours. It did not seem
to occur to the superintendent in those days, or
to the towermen themselves, for that matter, that
this division of the working-day was an unreason
able and unbusinesslike arrangement. It was cer
tainly a hardship for the men at West Cambridge
who lived at some distance from the tower. But
then we were working for a railroad on which duty
was limitless and regulated only by the require-

CONDITIONS ON THE RAILROADS 129
ments of the service and the judgment of the su
perintendent. For several years, under this ar
rangement, I walked to my work, a distance of
nearly two miles, between one and two o'clock in
the morning.
This working arrangement at West Cambridge
may be taken as a fair illustration of the kind of
intelligence, or whatever it may be called, that
was engaged in the railroad business in those
days. I cannot look upon the situation as much of
a reflection on the good will or executive ability
of managers. The smallest business concern, as
well as the largest, appeared to be on the same
industrial and moral level in this respect. Nor
can the silence or indifference of the worker at the
time be judged from the standpoint of to-day,
when rights and wrongs of every description are
subject to constant and fearless discussion.
Nevertheless, it was certainly an injustice, as I
have noted, to request a man to walk to his work
at two o'clock in the morning without some stated
and clearly understood reason. The superin
tendent was supposed to have this reason, and
there the matter ended. Later, when the intelli
gence of men, managers, and society broadened,
a fairer division of the working-day was put into
effect. As a matter of fact, however, the speciflc In
stance of inconvenience to which I have referred

130 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
was only a drop in the bucket compared with the
general situation of which it was a part. For vari
ous reasons, these hardships were particularly ag
gravated on railroads, although the employes had
actually to be educated to an appreciation of this
fact. For example, my shift of eight hours was
liable at any time to be extended to sixteen or
twenty-four without a cent of extra remuneration.
In such cases I simply said to myself, "That's
just my luck," and I was only one among thou
sands of employes who took matters philosophi
cally in this way.
Quite recently, discussing this matter with Mr.
E. A. Smith, who was a train dispatcher and as
sistant superintendent on the Fitchburg Rail
road for many years before I entered the service,
he remarked: "Why, there is Miss Carter, the
present telegraph operator at Athol: she has filled
that position faithfully and without mistake of
any description for something like forty-five
years. I am well within the mark when I say that
hundreds of times during that long period of serv
ice, she went to work in that office at six o'clock
on Sunday mornings and, relief operators failing
to appear, she kept it up until midnight on Mon
days without a word of protest. During this long
period she handled not only important train or
ders and other railroad business, but also all the
message work of the Western Union Telegraph

CONDITIONS ON THE RAILROADS 131
Company. This position was worth forty dollars
a month to Miss Carter. There were no extras or
perquisites connected with her work, but if she
happened to be sick for a day the pay for that day
was deducted from her salary at the end of the
month. From the business of the Western Union
Telegraph Company alone the railroad probably
benefited to many times the amount of the salar
ies paid to the operators. Overtime, in those days,
was never given a thought. It had simply not
been invented, for the same psychological and
commercial reasons, I suppose, that the safety
bicycle had not then superseded the awkward and
dangerous fly wheel."
Of course, a situation of this kind could not con
tinue indeflnltely in any form of progressive so
ciety. Superintendents and others, who were
called upon to mingle with the employes and dis
cuss these conditions, gradually awoke to the in
justice of the situation, and in many directions,
under pressure, I confess, were the first to Initi
ate reforms.
I call to mind the first payment for overtime I
ever received. I was the most surprised individual
on the Fitchburg Railroad. The company was in
stalling a switch tower at Waltham, and I was re
quested, after my day's work at West Cambridge
was over, to go to that place and break in two or
three green men so that they might be ready for

132 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
their duties on the completion of the new plant.
The following week, when I counted my money at
the little window In the pay car, I was simply
dumfounded. I did not exactly feel like walking
off with something that did not rightfully belong
to me, so I raised the half -guilty look, with which
I was surveying the wealth In my hand, to the
countenance of the paymaster. Both he and his
assistant were highly amused at my dilemma.
Then one of them good-naturedly said to me,
"Move on, Fagan, that's all right." But the af
fair did not end there. Some one of the higher of
ficials, I understand, caught sight of the item on
the pay-roll, and called for an explanation. I have
good reason for thinking that the matter was
finally settled by the superintendent making good
the amount out of his own pocket.
But while the industrial lot of telegraph and
tower men in those days was particularly distress
ing, judging it from present standards of justice,
the situation in the train service was very much
worse. I recall a typical case at East Deerfield.
One day, in mid-winter. Conductor Parks walked
into my office. His daily routine was to run a
freight train from East Deerfield to Ashburnham
Junction and return. This was, barring accidents,
a reasonable day's work; under ordinary circum
stances he could make the trip in something like
ten hours. On the occasion I now refer to. Con-

CONDITIONS ON THE RAILROADS 133
ductor Parks and his train had been snow-bound
and otherwise tied up at various places on the road
for forty-eight hours. I told him I thought it was
"pretty hard lines." His reply was something
like this: "Oh, that's nothing. Look at poor old
Hobbs ! They took his engine away from him yes
terday to help a passenger train up Royalston
grade. He is still side-tracked at that point wait
ing for the return of his engine." n
Before describing my actual duties in the switch
tower at West Cambridge and the features con
nected with these duties that developed and
guided my progress in other directions, I am
going to touch briefly on the accident situation In
those early days, for the reason that the problem
itself had much to do, not only with my own per
sonal career, but with industrial improvement
among railroad men in general. So far as respon
sibility for accident was concerned, the manager,
the employe, and the public were all In the same
box. There was probably quite as much social con
science concerned in the matter then as now, but
it was unorganized and leaderless. There was
absolutely no publicity, at the time, in regard to
the details of railroad life, either in Massachusetts
or elsewhere. In the fierce hurry of the times the
public mind was absorbed in the contemplation of

134 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
statistics relating to railroad mileage and the ex
pansion of trade. Nevertheless, it was a very
serious state of affairs from any point of view,
and during the time of my service at East Deer
field if the church bells had been rung every
time a human being was killed or injured on Amer
ican railroads, it seems to me they would have
been kept tolling almost incessantly. In my own
narrow circle of acquaintances, eighteen con
ductors were killed or injured in one year, and on
an average, one englneman, one fireman, two con
ductors, and six brakemen every month in the
year. A trainman. In those days, with eight fin
gers and two thumbs was a rarity.
By common consent at the time, sympathy and
interest of every description in this accident situa
tion seemed to be focused on what was known as
the "paper." This was a popular collection for
the benefit of unfortunates. During my experi
ence on the railroad at East Deerfield, there was
hardly a week in which one of these papers was
not In circulation in the neighborhood. The pay-
car was the headquarters for many of these ap
peals, and the superintendent himself frequently
headed the list of subscribers. Mr. E. K. Turner,
who, as engineer and some of the time as super
intendent, was double-tracking the road at the
time, was a strict disciplinarian, and men were
frequently discharged by him simply "for cause,"

CONDITIONS ON THE RAILROADS 135
on five minutes' notice. But this stern feature
of his administration was buried in universal re
spect for the official who never missed an oppor
tunity to put down his name on these circulars
for a "five."
It must not be imagined, however, that this
distressing accident situation was the result of
widespread carelessness on the part of the em
ployes. Both rules and equipment at the time
were actually unknown quantities. Everything
was in the experimental stage, and every change
for the better was nearly always the result or the
price of some bitter experience. With the same
consecration to duty to-day as then, the modern
accident problem would lose its significance. In
deed, as a matter of fact, carelessness In those
days was frequently more of a reflection on man
agement, or rather on the science of railroading
at the time, than on the conduct of employes.
An illustration of this point will not be out of
place. One night at East Deerfleld I received orders
from the train dispatcher to get out an extra en
gine to help train number ninety-four. This en
gine, with the figures "94" displayed on its head
light, immediately took up a position in the yard
awaiting the arrival of that train. Meanwhile
another train, number ninety-three, moving in
the opposite direction, on single track, had re-

136 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
ceived orders to meet number ninety-four at
East Deerfield. In a few minutes number ninety-
three came along, and, catching sight of the fig
ures ninety -four on the headlight of the helping
engine, the engineer mistook this helper for the
regular train he was to meet and kept on his way.
One of the most disastrous freight wrecks In the
history of the road was the result. Nowadays
helping engines never display numbers until
they are actually hitched to a train. Such, at any
rate, is the history of a rule, and its reflection on
the foresight or education of management.
It seems to me there was less real carelessness
on the railroads in those days than at any time
since. It is true the material was crude and in
experienced, and men were turned loose on their
jobs without any examination, physical or other
wise, in regard to qualifications. All over the
country these men, by the score, were being
trapped and killed by the overhead bridge, the
"link-and-pin" device, and the open frog. Then,
after years of bitter experience, came the auto
matic coupler, the bridge guard, and the blocked
frog. Meanwhile, out of the debris of this dis
tressing situation, a new and more intelligent
class of railroad men was emerging. It is with
the history of this new class, then beginning to
organize, among whom my own lot was cast, that
I am now concerned. Under inconceivable dif-

CONDITIONS ON THE RAILROADS 137
ficulties they served the public and their employ
ers faithfully and well. To these men belongs
most of the credit for pointing out the defects in
the service, and thus paving the way for reforms
which soon put the railroad business in America,
for a time at least, on a sane and safe basis. To
accomplish their ends these men, this better class
of newcomers, determined to organize.
During my term of service at East Deerfield,
this great labor movement for the bettering of
working and financial conditions, or at least its
undercurrent, was in full swing. Of course it was
not a local issue, but an enterprise of national
significance. Already in the Western States,
under the leadership of the Knights of Labor, it
had repeatedly manifested itself in riotous de
monstrations. But in New England, though the
general aims were similar, the human material
engaged in the struggle was different.
As it came under my observation at East
Deerfield, the movement was a reasonable revolt
against the intolerable state of affairs which I
have described, and it was being engineered by
men of my acquaintance who were far from be
ing unlawfully inclined. The idea of organiza
tion for the common good was taking firm hold
of their common sense and intelligence, and it
spread rapidly among enginemen, firemen, con
ductors, brakemen, and switchmen. These men.

138 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
at that time, wanted reasonable pay, fair treat
ment, safety in operation and, at the same time,
in a marked degree, they desired the respect and
good will of the managers and the public. This
situation was slowly evolving under my eyes at
East Deerfield. From day to day for several
years it continued to work out, very unobtrus
ively, it is true, until finally it came to the sur
face. In the round-house, in the caboose, in the
telegraph office, wherever two or three men came
together, there was a never-ending discussion of
the vital Issues of conditions and wages. At the
same time there was no end of talk and exchange
of opinions going on about rules, mechanical and
personal safeguards, and the general improve
ment of the service. In these discussions, loyalty
to the old Fitchburg Railroad was an ever-pre
sent and distinguishing feature. This was act
ually the atmosphere in which I worked at East
Deerfield. To Interest the public and the man
agement In these betterment schemes, without
losing their jobs, was, to begin with, the burden
of the railroad labor movement in New England,
according to my diagnosis. But management in
New England, taking its cue from the demonstra
tions that were accompanying the movement in
some of the western States, was antagonistic to
the men, while public opinion, as is usual when a
political complication in the distance is fore-

CONDITIONS ON THE RAILROADS 139
shadowed, was on the fence awaiting develop
ments. To-day, however, thinking the matter over
carefully at a time when the strike is quite as con
spicuously the weapon of the well-to-do and
splendidly conditioned railroad man as of under
paid and otherwise less fortunate workers in
other industries, I naturally ask myself what has
become of that well-disposed body of men, and of
that splendid movement whose beginnings ap
peared to me, at East Deerfield, to be so full of
industrial and social inspiration. It must be re
membered that society and management in those
days threw these workers back upon their own
resources, and to them, that Is, to the employes,
almost exclusively belongs the credit for a series
of reforms and material betterments on railroads
that is probably unexampled in industrial his
tory. If, then, along these same lines of advance,
workers all over the country are now taking
advantage of impregnable economic positions,
and are openly converting exaggerated private
rights Into pronounced public wrongs, the his
tory of the beginnings of this movement, as It
came under my observation on the railroads, and
as I am now trying to describe it, cannot fail to
be interesting.
During the early eighties, the new era on rail
roads and elsewhere, with brotherhood and hu-

140 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
manity at the helm, was coming on apace. From
my individualistic point of view, these ideas of
humanity and brotherhood were being trans
lated by the social conscience of America into
terms almost exclusively of economic value and
significance. That there was and is social and
industrial danger In this one-sided attitude goes
without saying. m
It Is impossible for me at this time to follow In
detail the progress of the labor movement on the
railroads, as it came under my observation. But
the following account of my service in the signal
tower at West Cambridge will, I think, serve to
illustrate and illuminate many of its interesting
features. The principal points to be noticed will
be the individualistic character of a part of my
surroundings, and the careful, conscientious, and
socially successful career of employes who were
permitted to labor in that kind of an atmosphere.
In the switch tower at West Cambridge be
tween midnight and six o'clock in the morning,
there is usually plenty of time for reading, writing,
or study. Side work of this kind, of course, is not
definitely sanctioned by the management. In fact,
any practice that Interferes, or is likely to inter
fere with the towerman's duties, is an infringement
of the general rules of the company. For thirty

CONDITIONS ON THE RAILROADS 141
years I have lived up to the spirit of these rules
without paying much attention to the letter. To
compel a man on a night job of this kind simply
to pose in a waiting attitude, perhaps for an hour
at a time, would be profitless discipline.
In a general way the towerman's duties may
briefly be described under a few definite and in
teresting heads. In the first place, a thorough
understanding of the book of rules and the
current time-tables is absolutely essential. This
knowledge must be supplemented by unfaltering
attention to the clicking of the telegraph wires,
and to the ringing of the various track bells. In
reality, these sounds, relating to the movement
of trains, are heard, or rather felt, without any
effort In the way of listening, while the towerman
is throwing a combination on his machine, or ex
plaining a situation to a trainman. In the same
way an expert telegraph operator, without any
effort, can read a message on his sounder, mani
pulate his key, and answer the inquiries of pa
trons at the office window.
In my own case this dissociation of routine
work from literary or other enterprises In which
my mind was at the time engaged, is a phase of
my educational experience in which I have al
ways been profoundly interested. One day, quite
accidentally, it occurred to me that this lever-
throwing was, in some curious way, a great

142 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
intellectual stimulant. Its immediate effect was to
bring my subconscious knowledge or ingenuity to
the surface. I pursued this inspirational method
for years, and, after a while, every attempt of
the kind was like an excursion into dreamland.
When at a loss for a word or an illustration of any
kind, the answer was usually forthcoming after
an exciting round or two at the levers. The
greater the stress of business, and the louder the
rattle of the trains, or the ringing of the bells,
which a sort of unconscious half of me was at
tending to with scrupulous fidelity, the keener
became the intellectual activity of my other half,
which, at the same time, was busy with other in
terests. It was simply a sort of singing at my
work, and when anything happened to disturb
the harmonious progress of the two parallel
operations the charm, of course, was broken.
Immaterial conversation or noises, however, were
unheeded. One day during or after a scene of this
kind, one of the boys exploded a cannon cracker
under my chair. I suppose I heard it, but that
was all.
But coming back to the everyday situation, and
apart from this mental acuteness which, in the ex
ercise of his responsible duties, the average tower-
man acquires, an absolutely faultless manipula
tion of the levers of the interlocking machine is
called for in conjunction with the exercise of

CONDITIONS ON THE RAILROADS 143
sound judgment in all matters that relate to the
movement of the trains.
There are sixty levers in the switch tower at
West Cambridge. Every lever is numbered. A
series of these numbers, or the levers they repre
sent, thrown in a given rotation, constitutes a
route. Every route that is set up in this way for
the passage of a train is isolated, as it were, and
protected from trains passing or crossing on other
routes. The mechanical intelligence that domin
ates the situation in the tower, and unites every
train and every employe within the tower zone in
a bond of safety. Is located behind the machine in
a bed of long steel rods and cross-bolts, called the
"locking." In preparing the routes, and in giv
ing signals for the movements of trains, what may
be called the conscience of the machine Is fre
quently brought into play. When the operator
takes hold of and attempts to pull a lever wrong
fully, to which act, in some form, danger is at
tached, he Invariably finds the forbidden move
ment absolutely locked against his effort. He has
been actually detected in an attempt to make a
mistake, and the effect on the towerman's con
science at the time is more acute than a repri
mand from his superintendent. The nervous
strain on a beginner in one of these switch towers
is considerable, but once he has become thoroughly
broken in and conversant with the mechanical

144 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
part of his duties, his confidence in the machine
becomes unlimited, and he is able to concentrate
his mind, almost exclusively, on the disposition of
his trains and on other matters, according to the
nature and strength of his faculties.
But while the above is a fair description of the
situation in a switch tower at the present day, it
by no means covered the field of work at West
Cambridge at the time I entered the service. The
most disagreeable part of the work in those days
was outdoors. We were called upon, just when we
could and how we could, to clean, oil, and adjust
the switches. For this purpose we were supplied
with a kit of tools. The lamp or signal depart
ment was also in our charge. There were some
thing like fifty signal lamps to be cleaned, filled,
and placed in position on high poles and low
standards. In this way a track circuit of two or
three miles had to be covered twice a day. To ac
complish this work we took flying trips from the
tower, between trains, as opportunity offered.
IV
From these signal-tower duties in which for
twenty-five years I was almost continuously en
gaged, I turn now to the little community of
workers at West Cambridge. I divide these work
ers Into two groups. First, the train and engine-
men, who were not fixtures, as it were, at West

CONDITIONS ON THE RAILROADS 145
Cambridge, but on train trips and otherwise were
frequent visitors at the tower, and at all times as
sociated with its activities. As I remember these
train employes, and have elsewhere described
them, they had been, in their early railroad expe
rience, individualists both by instinct and In
clination; but just about the time I arrived at
West Cambridge their condition, financial and
otherwise, was improving with almost incredible
swiftness. Their organizations were becoming
political factors, and political society was begin
ning to prick up its ears and get busy about them.
To illustrate the situation In the case of this first
group of railroad men and its treatment by society
in those days of dawning prosperity, I will take
the case of Conductor Breakers.
This interesting railroad man was conductor of
a train crew that did most of the switching in the
railroad territory around Cambridge in the early
days of my service at that point. He was a man of
the old school, who had been in the fight for better
conditions on railroads from the beginning. One
day Mr. Breakers said to me, " When I entered the
railroad service, thirty years ago, I moved from
Charlestown to Cambridge with all my worldly
possessions on a wheelbarrow." With the passage
of time, and as the position of this man, financially
and otherwise, improved, a very curious state of
affairs in regard to his duties began to develop.

146 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
The situation simply arose from the application of
current business morality to the affairs of a rail
road. Just as soon as business and political inter
ests began to move in behalf of the railroad em
ploye, and to take notice of his rising importance,
his industrial integrity was endangered. For ex
ample, it made little difference to the Fitchburg
Railroad Company whether factory "A" or fac
tory "B" received the first visit from the switch
engine in the morning, but as soon as the pro
prietors or foremen of a dozen factories began to
bribe the conductor in order to secure priority of
service and other favors, a quiet system of graft
was introduced that finally developed into a most
astonishing state of affairs. For a time the con
ductor in question avoided and tried to dodge the
temptation; but the pressure was too great, and
he ended by working the situation for all it was
worth, and in his hands it proved to be worth a
good deal. Before long, from one of the largest
plants in the neighborhood he was in receipt of a
regular salary. From other firms, at intervals, he
received donations of pocket-money, hams, milk,
wood, coal, and ice, according to his requirements,
and If he needed anything in the way of hardware
or pottery, all he had to do was to visit the fac
tories and help himself. After a while, in collect
ing these assessments, in which the whole train
crew sometimes shared, the conductor enlisted the

CONDITIONS ON THE RAILROADS 147
services of one of his brakemen — this man had
nearly as many side lines as the conductor. His
job on the railroad, however, did not prevent him
from being, at the same time, a call member of the
Cambridge Fire Department.
But opportunity and encouragement for enter
prises of this kind could not be confined to the
limits of a freight yard or a single city. The con
ductor soon entered the political arena. Every
once in a while he took a trip to Washington in the
Interests of a post-master, a congressman, or a
senator. Then the management of the Fitchburg
Railroad Itself got mixed in the muddle. Just how
no man could tell, for Breakers went around with
his finger on his lips saying "Hush " to everybody.
His little trips to Washington and elsewhere
did not interfere in any way with the pay that was
coming to him every week, as conductor of the
switcher. This was certainly a very strange state
of affairs. But the most demoralizing effect of po
litical and other Interference in the railroad busi
ness has yet to be mentioned.
One afternoon, the switch engine with a few
cars, in charge of this conductor, taking a flying
trip into the city, hit the rear of an express pas
senger train ahead, wlhch had slowed up a little at
Somerville. It was on the programme to dis
charge the entire crew, but Conductor Breakers
pulled too many strings. Until the men were

148 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
quietly returned to their jobs, the office of the
superintendent was besieged with delegation
committees and professional people representing,
it was calculated, fully a third of the voting popu
lation of Charlestown. I was able to keep track of
these events pretty closely from the fact that dur
ing this period I was acting as clerk to the super
intendent of the road, and as such I had charge of
the pay-rolls and had every opportunity to take
note of the proceedings. But I never met a man
who could say that he was able to fathom the
mystery of Conductor Breakers and his manoeu
vres. His lack of education was a bar to his per
sonal preferment. His specialty was getting jobs
for other people, or making them believe he was
busy In their interests. This, It seems, was suf
ficient. In railroad and political circles, at any rate,
to keep nearly everybody in tow.
This situation, of course, is bygone history, but
it gives one a good idea how questionable prac
tices began on railroads. It also fllustrates the
share which society itself had in the encourage
ment of practices which are now being so strenu
ously condemned.

The second group of railroad men at West
Cambridge was altogether of a different class or
variety. Surely there must have been something

CONDITIONS ON THE RAILROADS 149
industrially healthy and significant in the situa
tion when we come to consider that, regardless of
conditions and wages at this point on the railroad,
a dozen workers held together year in and year
out, and can now show records ranging from
twenty to forty years of unbroken and satisfac
tory service. A questionable situation, I suppose,
to some progressive people who recognize no con
dition as sound that is not forever on the jump
toward something different and prospectively
better. Such people have Httle appreciation for
conditions or individuals in this world that wisely
slow up or stand still for Inspirational purposes.
But apart from all comment on the situation, the
facts themselves at West Cambridge are decidedly
interesting. All told, there were seven trackmen, two gate-
men, and three towermen in this little group. The
towermen received about thirteen dollars a week,
the others about eight dollars. There were seven
days In the working-week, but remuneration for
work on Sunday In those days was definitely for
bidden by orders from headquarters. To find the
amount that was due for work of a single day,
however, the weekly wage was invariably divided
by seven.
While the working conditions of the towerman,
then, considering the importance of his duties,
were not altogether satisfactory, those of the

150 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
trackmen, of course, were very much worse. And
yet the results under these conditions, both to so
ciety and to the railroad, were certainly remark
able. The record of each individual in this group
of workers was about the same as my own, and so
I am speaking for the group when I say that per
sonally. In thirty years' service, I never received a
letter, or was asked a single question that could be
construed into a reflection on conduct or work.
Industrially, under conditions which, in part,
I have described, the records of these men were
all right; socially they were still better.
Of the original group, with possibly one excep
tion, each individual owns, or did own, his little
home. One of these men, a trackman, actually
built the frame of his dwelling-house himself.
The families of these workers ranged from three
to ten children to the household; most of these
children are now grown up and can hold their
own with any, it matters not who they may be,
in the community. These chfldren grew up under
my eyes. They were well fed, well clothed, well
housed, well educated, and perfectly healthy. It
is not too much to say that the best results were
derived from the lowest wage and the keenest
struggle. Leaving the towermen out of the cal
culation, the results I have mentioned were ob
tained on a weekly income, per Individual, of less
than eight dollars.

CONDITIONS ON THE RAILROADS 151
Once upon a time one of these men had a case
in court. He owned a tenement house in Somer
ville, and his case had something to do with the
collection of his rents. Referring to his low wages
and his real estate holdings, the Judge put this
question to him, — "How do you do It?" The
man answered, — "Your Honor, that's my
secret." In industrial circles, as elsewhere, secrets of
this kind have usually a good deal to do with the
character and disposition of the "boss." The
section foreman at West Cambridge was and Is,
In many ways, a remarkable man. As I look at
it, the force of his unassuming yet strong per
sonality kept a gang of men together for some
thing like a quarter of a century. He is the great
est living compliment to the principles of indus
trial honesty that I ever met. He is strict in a
way, yet he never scolds. He Is a tall, rugged
man of the Lincoln type, just as much at home
among his men digging out the switches In the
teeth of a blizzard of snow as he Is in the com
pany of notables at a Masonic gathering. Among
his fellows on the railroad, to mention Delvy is
to praise him.
Because it will conduct me along the lines of
my own progress at West Cambridge, and at the
same time throw a little light on the "secrets" of
these rugged personalities in railroad life, I shall

152 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
try to draw pen portraits of some of Delvy's
men. To begin with, ther6 is Mat. He is now sec
ond hand on the job; a very quiet fellow, some
what undersized, big-hearted, and a bachelor.
From childhood he has lived with his widowed
mother. Report has it he remains single for her
sake. Mat Is a born optimist. He looks at every
thing through honest eyes. In a variety of little
and big ways, at work and In the community, he
is the conscience of the gang.
John, on the other hand, is large of frame as
Mat Is slight. He is a ruddy-faced man, squarely
built, and his voice has a deep musical ring. He
works like a clock, methodically and religiously.
John is a king of tampers. He sets the pace, di
rects the energy, and supplies the good nature.
There is music in tamping ties, and John was a
splendid conductor. One day a rail in the bend
ing, held high in the air, slipped in some way,
and came down with fearful crash on John's
thigh. It was a long lay-off In the hospital and at
home, but finally he limped back to his work. He
said the railroad had been good to him. All bills
had been paid and quite a little something was
left over in his pocket.
The third man, Lucy, Is the Nestor of the gang.
Up to the last he was a splendid worker. Some
time ago his age became known to the authori-

CONDITIONS ON THE RAILROADS 153
ties, and, besides, infirmities developed and then
Delvy himself could n't save him. For quite a
while after his removal he frequently turned out
with the boys in the morning and followed them
to their work. Seating himself by the side of the
track he smoked the hours away, watching the
proceedings achingly. No Rachel ever wept for
her children as this man lamented the loss of his
job. He is now finishing off his very useful ca
reer as gateman on a crossing.
Sampson is a strong and healthy-looking
French-Canadian. He is unusually vigorous and
active for a laboring-man over sixty. His spe
cialty is chopping. He Is the woodsman of the
gang. His axe is quite a feature on the section.
He peels ties, keeps the brush down, and fells trees
when necessary. As it seemed to me at times,
watching and listening, he always made the
morning hours feel glorious with the ring and
crack of his hatchet.
The next man, Harkins, is the millionaire of the
group. The habit of saving pennies and turning
them over and over again In a variety of little
ways, in the house, in the garden, and in gen
eral domestic economy, brought about aston
ishing results in the end. He is the reputed owner
of a block of houses in Somerville, and is soon
going back to the old country to buy an estate.
Finally, there is Dan. His arrival at West

154 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
Cambridge preceded my own by a year or two.
At all times he seemed to have his work on his
mind, and at night, in stormy weather, he fre
quently came down to the tower of his own ac
cord, just to assure himself that everything was
in good working order. To begin with, he was a
section hand pure and simple. His duty was, in
part, to walk over and Inspect a section of track
the first thing in the morning and the last thing
at night. He and his family had the West Cam
bridge "secret," in a marked degree. It con
sisted of all sorts of little economies, even to the
extent of picking up waste lumber, splitting ties
for fuel and working at all sorts of odd jobs in the
neighborhood at the break of dawn, and some
times far Into the night. In all kinds of work the
children lent a hand. Then there were hens and
a little gardening as side lines, and besides, when
it came to a pinch, if I am not mistaken, the boys
could cobble their own shoes, and the only daugh
ter in the family could make her own dresses. It
is easy to understand what a quantity of char
acter was wrapped up in a situation of this kind.
In the process of Improving working conditions
by organization and otherwise, is it possible to
retain the sterling characteristics for which Dan
and his type were distinguished? Will education
and industrial enlightenment take care of the
issue? The world to-day is asking this question.

CONDITIONS ON THE RAILROADS 155
In course of time Dan's duties on the railroad
became more responsible, but there was no
change for the better in his income. When,
thanks to the efforts of their brotherhood, the
towermen were relieved of all outdoor duties at
West Cambridge, Dan fell heir to the adjusting
tools, the lamps, and the oU cans. In this way,
quite frequently nowadays, the man lower down
feels the pinch of a "raise" or a lift higher up.
But Dan and his fellows kept right along plod
dingly. His natural ability and ingenuity along
mechanical lines were remarkable. His educa
tional opportunities, however, had been few. In
fact, in some directions, he was decidedly super
stitious. Somehow I always looked upon this
characteristic as one of his virtues. In actual con
tact with life his superstition was of as much
practical value as libraries of book learning are
to some other people. This is philosophy In ac
cordance with the facts. In dealing with his fel
low men Dan was as honest as the hills are solid.
His superstition had something to do with his be
havior. In the course of years of track-walking,
it is no exaggeration to say that Dan picked up,
in the aggregate, two or three hundred dollars in
the form of cash and jewelry. As it seemed to
me, he was always unaccountably restless until
the property was safely returned to the owners.
Dan's philosophy of honesty was unique as

156 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
well as refreshing. One day he explained its
fundamentals to me somewhat as follows: In the
old country, when he was a boy, as a fee for carry
ing a trunk, a gentleman in a hurry thrust a coin
into his hand. When Dan got home he found a
sovereign in his pocket. As Dan looked at it, the
man, in the dusk of the evening, had made a mis
take. By rights the coin should have been a shill
ing. For several days the gold piece actually
burned in his pocket. But what could he do?
And, besides, he was sadly in need of a new pair
of shoes. After a week of mental distress he fin
ally purchased a pair. As he was leaving the
store, he stumbled over a black cat. This put the
finishing touch to his mental agitation. But he
could not work in his bare feet, so the boots had
to be worn. As Dan tells the story, the first
day he wore them the boots were fairly comfort
able; the second day they pinched a little; on the
third, they were positively painful; and then,
after spending the fourth day in agony, he placed
the cursed things in a bag with a rock for a weight
and threw them into the lake. From that day
Dan's ideas of the sacred rights of property were
unshakable. But Dan was one of nature's humorists, as
well as a preceptor of morals. For years, just be
fore going to work in the morning, he was in the
habit of paying a flying visit to the tower to

CONDITIONS ON THE RAILROADS 157
snatch a glance at the newspapers. Dan had a
habit of reading the headlines out loud, with a
comment or two slipped in between. He invar
iably began with the weather report, the heading
of which, as Dan read it out loud, was always as
follows: "For Boston and vacancy."
Dan was also the regulator of the tower clock,
and once in a while came in to adjust what he
called its "penundulum." Furthermore, he had
some knowledge of herbs and wild flowers and
possessed, among other medicinal secrets, an in
fallible remedy for "information of the bladder."
VI
But apart from questions relating to charac
ter and its conservation, which naturally come to
the front from my description of the rugged and
ready material engaged in the railroad business
at East Deerfield and West Cambridge, there is
another feature of the situation that is also of
universal importance; I refer to the conservation
of authority.
At a time when the attitude of powerful labor
organizations toward discipline on railroads was
being freely discussed in the public prints, Mr.
Roosevelt, then President, wrote this little ser
mon on the subject: —
"The wage- worker who does not do well at his
job shows he lacks self-respect. He ought to wish

158 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
to do well because he respects himself. Remem
ber, too, that ordinarily the rich man cannot
harm you unless you harm yourself. If you are
satisfied with your standard of living until some
body else comes in with a higher standard of liv
ing, then the harm the other man has done to you
comes because of your own yielding to weakness
and envy. If your heart is stout enough you
won't feel it.
"The labor union has done great and needed
work for the betterment of the laboring-man;
but where it has worked against his individual ef
ficiency as a worker it has gone wrong, and the
wrong must be remedied. On railroads, for in
stance, we should not tolerate any interference
with the absolute right of a superintendent to dis
charge a man. There should be no requirement to
show cause. The man who is a little inefficient or
a little careless, and is left in the service, is apt
finally to be responsible for some great disaster;
and there should not be the slightest interference
or attempted interference with the right of a
superintendent to turn such a man out. Where a
labor union works to decrease the average ef
ficiency of the worker, it cannot in the long run
escape being detrimental to the community as a
whole, and In the real interest of organized labor,
this should not be permitted."
In the light of the facts as they are to-day, rail-

CONDITIONS ON THE RAILROADS 159
road men will certainly not look upon this little
sermon as a very progressive announcement. Be
this as It may, I wish to make Mr. Roosevelt's
ideas on the conservation of authority the text of
this final section of this chapter.
Of course this autobiography should be, in the
main, an experience and not an argument. Never
theless, the story would certainly lose most of its
significance if the writer lacked convictions, or
failed to take to himself, and when possible to im
part to others, as best he could according to his
light, the lessons to be derived from passing events.
Combining a consideration of public problems,
then, with the history of my personal progress in
the surroundings of a switch tower, I turn again,
very briefly, to what may be called the adven
tures of Dan. From the early East Deerfield days,
this man, representing industrial integrity, was
the type which at any rate formed the ground
plan of the service with which I was associated.
Society, of course, is interested in perpetuating
the characteristics of this type, and directly in
line with the desires and efforts of society in this
direction come these problems connected with
authority. Dan, then, was not only socially and industri
ally successful, but he was also a hero. In the year
1893, 1 think it was, a heavy freight train crashed
into and telescoped a passenger train right in

160 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
front of the station at West Cambridge. Five pas
sengers were killed and about thirty were seri
ously injured. A signal and a flag were against the
freight train, but they were both unseen or disre
garded. Dan, who lived only a few yards from the
station, heard the crash and hurried to the scene.
The engine of the freight train ploughed its way
clear through the rear coach and was belching a
torrent of steam into the next one ahead, when
Dan, disregarding the warning shouts of the by
standers, scrambled, with a coat over his head,
into the blazing coach. While the crowd hung
back, terror-stricken, Dan dragged a number of
women and young people to safety through the
hissing steam. In after days, notably at Christ
mas-time, he received tokens of thankful remem
brance from many of these people, and in this way
his personal satisfaction in his own deed has been
kept alive from year to year.
To the men in the signal tower at West Cam
bridge, however, this collision of trains, with re
sulting loss of life, was no mystery. They knew
all about the signals, the flags, and the conditions
under which they were operated. They were also
daily witnesses of the efforts of the management,
in the interests of safety, to enforce the principle
of implicit obedience in the face of a rising tide of
aggressive industrial assertiveness which, at the
time, was backed up in various ways by public

CONDITIONS ON THE RAILROADS 161
opinion. In this particular instance the coroner,
one or two judges, and the newspapers united in
placing all the blame for the accident upon the
management of the railroad. The fact was lost
sight of that every railroad In the country was suf
fering from the same trouble at the same time,
with similar results.
No substitute has been proposed by these or
any other critics, to take the place of obedience to
rules and the exercise of authority in connection
therewith. Be this as It may, this accident at
West Cambridge was used as a test case, and au
thority was driven to the wall. In the words of the
then general superintendent of the Fitchburg
Raflroad: "The newspapers and the public may
know how to run a railroad, but, with such handi
caps, I certainly do not."
Some time after this accident at West Cam
bridge I left the tower service for a while, and was
appointed clerk to the superintendent of the divi
sion, whose office was in Boston. I held the posi
tion for about eighteen months and was then sent
back to the tower. I was removed from this posi
tion for the same reason, I suppose, that Mr.
Hartwell, the superintendent, was also before
long relieved of his duties. In a word, we were be
hind the times. The distinction between the old
and the new idea in management was fundamen
tal. For example, Mr. Hartwell, on one occasion.

162 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
eliminated a man who was in the habit of running
recklessly round curves. The new solution of this
problem in discipline is to eliminate the curve.
Not so long ago, an accident at Bridgeport,
Connecticut, on the New Haven Railroad, was
doctored by the courts and the newspapers in this
way. Mr. Hartwell, however, was a disciplinarian,
and withal a splendid railroad man, from the
ground up. In all cases that came up for promo
tion, he always insisted upon a thorough examina
tion of each candidate. In order to be trusted
with a train, every applicant had to pass Mr.
Hartwell's personal Inspection. When that old-
time superintendent left the service a dozen or
more men were on his unavailable list. At the
present day, thanks to the seniority rule, practi
cally every man qualifies, and accidents eliminate
the weaklings.
Some time before Mr. Hartwell's retirement
from the service, a certain train crew, with, or in
charge of, a crowded passenger train, left the
North Station in Boston. The men neglected to
make the air test before starting; consequently
the train barely escaped a plunge into an open
"draw." Mr. Hartwell discharged the train crew,
just as the law would have deprived a pilot of his
license for needlessly running his ship upon the
rocks. But the superintendent's word was not

CONDITIONS ON THE RAILROADS 163
final. A number of influences were set to work on
behalf of the men, and in a month the crew was
sent back to work by order of the highest execu
tive officer on the railroad, who, by the way, at
the time was seeking a military appointment at
the hands of the governor, and was soliciting poli
tical indorsement. It detracts in no way from the
importance of the issues that managers at times
conspired to defeat their own Interests.
However, I got it into my head at the time I
was working in Mr. Hartwell's office that society
was deeply interested In these two problems of the
conservation of character and authority, and it
became Increasingly evident to me that the Issues
were as vitally concerned with educational and
religious matters as with the railroad business.
So I returned to the switch tower with the deter
mination to study these problems, and quietly to
start a sort of personal campaign in their behalf
with my pen.

VI
THE INDIVIDUAL IN MODERN INDUSTRY

DuEiNG the years 1896 and 1897, while I was at
work in the office of the superintendent of the
Fitchburg Railroad in Boston, my prospects and
work In life were waiting, so to speak, for a mental
decision on my part of the simplest kind. I was
called upon either to get into harmony with a cer
tain popular movement in business life or remain
on the outside as a mere spectator. Without any
trouble at all I could have placed myself in the
swim and taken my chances with this new system
that was just then beginning to develop all over
the country in industrial circles. The situation
can be described in a very few words.
On the one hand there was the scientific organi
zation of workingmen, and on the other hand there
was the scientific organization of the details of the
laboring process and of methods of management.
While at the time my understanding of the situa
tion was somewhat narrow, nevertheless it was
soon impressed upon me, in a number of practical
ways, that a great change was about to take place

THE INDIVIDUAL IN INDUSTRY 165
in the status of the individual whether as a worker
or as a manager.
But just at this point in my business career
when I was looking over the field and trying to
figure in some way on my future in the railroad
business, I happened to be in a peculiar mental
condition. I was actually making a study of my
mind, and in the course of this study I had come
to the conclusion that in order to preserve my in
dividuality, it would be necessary for me to treat
my mind as I would my business or my body; that
is to say, I was called upon to direct its energies
and superintend Its activities.
I look upon the occasion when first, in a practi
cal way, this idea of mind study took hold of me
as a red-letter day in my history. It occurred
during the break in my signal-tower service when
I was employed In the office of the superintendent
of the Fitchburg Railroad in Boston. This story
of my mental occupation and interests deserves
more than a passing notice, for the line of thought
was closely related to the practical happenings
that followed.
For a number of years I had been attending the
evening classes at the Young Men's Christian
Union in Boston, and one evening, at a discus
sion club, I took part in a debate on temper
ance. I had made a special study of the subject
for the occasion from the mental point of view.

166 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST,
and no one was more surprised than myself at
the interesting and instructive outcome of my
investigation. Let me suppose, for the sake of my argument,
I said to my clubmates, that for a year or two I
have been in the habit of drinking every day a few
glasses of beer. In course of time this beer-drink
ing habit became a well-established feature of my
daily routine. But my disposition was such that,
as time went by, I was not altogether satisfied
with my conduct or with the waste of money that
soon became a very significant feature of my beer-
drinking career. So I went to work and read a
good deal on the subject and then talked the mat
ter over fearlessly and confidentially with friends.
Before long my eyes began to open and my inter
est to intensify.
This brain of mine, I discovered, consists of
what is called two hemispheres, one to the right
and the other to the left In the human skull. One
of these hemispheres, though composed of ex
actly the same material as the other, never does
any work, or receives any sensations. A right-
handed man always uses the left brain, a left-
handed man uses the right hemisphere. Studying
the matter more closely, I then discovered that
the brain never shows any signs of life or activ
ity unless or until some sensation or thought is
applied to it from the outside. My brain, it

THE INDIVIDUAL EST INDUSTRY 167
seems, is exactly like a violin. Not a sound can
you get out of it except in response to outside
pressure with which the violin itself has abso
lutely nothing to do. Now the mind is the bearer
of thought messages to the brain as the bow is the
bearer of sound messages to the violin. And there
is no message in all the range of human life and
experience that this brain of mine is not able to
take care of and reproduce in the shape of lan
guage, sight, hearing, artistic ideas, or physical
action. All these ideas and functions have their
home in the brain when once they have been
placed there by repeated sensation and the ac
tion of the human mind.
In continuing my studies It soon dawned upon
me that with my first glass of beer I deliberately
went to work and hired a small area or tiny quan
tity of gray matter in my brain and devoted it to
the Interests of the saloon. As time went on, the
route, that is to say, the avenue of nerves between
my mind and the little bed of gray matter in my
brain devoted to beer-drlnking interests became
a well-beaten thoroughfare. On account of its
frequent use It grew in size and importance among
brain activities and it was continually calling
upon the mind to pay attention to its interests
and consequently to forget and desert others. In
this way the Incessant call of the beer developed,
in course of time, into an actual brain itch, and

168 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
the mind, disturbed and excited by the persist
ent irritation, never lost an opportunity to take
possession of my legs and march me off to the
saloon. But just when affairs seemed to be at their
worst another factor put in its appearance. I,
who had been studying this brain question, sud
denly awoke and said to myself. What Is this
brain and what is this mind that they should pre
sume to order me around in this fashion? The
brain and the mind are my servants, my Will is
their master. For the future I propose to run
this business to suit myself. No longer shall my
mind continue to use the beer route to my brain,
to ruin my personality. In other words, I am the
director and overseer of my own fortunes. My
personality is king of mind routes and brain areas
and so to begin with I will now go right to work
and change my mind in regard to this beer-drink
ing habit. And thus, when I actually compelled
the mind to neglect the beer route to the brain, a
notable change took place. The beer route con
tracted from lack of attention and exercise, other
and healthier routes robbed it of its function and
importance, and before long my mind was in a
normal condition.
This study of the mind had more than a pass
ing effect on my fortunes. It increased the in
clination I already possessed to consider all

THE INDIVIDUAL IN INDUSTRY 169
phases of life from a personal viewpoint, and it
opened my eyes to the practical relationship that
exists at all times between the mind and every
day conduct and habits.
Such, at any rate, was the individualistic spirit
with which I looked on my surroundings while
I was at work In the superintendent's office. The
conclusions I arrived at, by means of this study,
emphasized the personal factor In every problem
and renewed my attachment to the men on the rail
road with whom I was associated and to the prin
ciples they represented. I refer now to the actual
workers, such as foremen, trainmen, and super
visors, who, of course, were in no way respons
ible for the general policy of the railroads.
As a matter of fact, at the time great changes
were being inaugurated all over the country both
in method of operation and in matters of manage
ment. For one thing, the accident situation was
at last attracting a little attention, abuses in
many directions were being discussed, and a new
generation of wide-awake employes were coming
to the front and receiving a hearing. In course
of time, as part of this overturn on the Fitch
burg Railroad, the superintendent and the
office force, of which I was a part, went out in a
body. I was just close enough to the manage
ment and sufficiently familiar with the aims of
employes to understand the nature of this over-

170 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
turn. I did not look at the matter from the view
point of the politician or the philosopher. I sim
ply knew that a certain class of men of sterling
character and unquestioned ability were, with
practically no excuse, being turned out of office.
The officials who took their places were also good
men, but they belonged to a different school and
they were called upon to do business in a differ
ent way.
On all sides the general principle of merging,
consolidating, and organizing was getting under
headway and half a dozen railroads in New Eng
land had already been rolled Into one. Mean
time, of course, business was expanding In every
direction and, as everybody seemed to agree,
was becoming too complicated for any form of
personal management or control. Personally I
did not take much stock In this argument, for I
noticed that with increase of business no attempt
was made to Increase the number of supervisors
or to retain in any other way the bond of per
sonal relationship.
Be that as it may, personal contact between
men and managers began to give way to a cold
blooded system of correspondence which at the
present day has reached enormous and ridiculous
proportions. Illustrations of these facts are quite
interesting. I can remember the time, for example, when

THE INDIVIDUAL IN INDUSTRY 171
an employe's "pass" was a bond of sympathy
between the men and the management. On re
quest any official could hand an employe what he
wanted on the spot. He did not have to say to
any man. Who are you and what is your record?
He knew his men and he treated them liberally
to the best of his judgment. But just as soon as
the public and the politicians got mixed up in
this pass business the employe's side of it was
ruined, and every human factor connected with
it was scattered to the winds. To the merchant
the pass was a form of rebate, to thousands upon
thousands of professional people in different lines
it was a form of recompense amounting In some
cases to a bribe. The railroads themselves have
taken or rather been given the blame for this
state of affairs. The recipients, on the other
hand, seem to have satisfied public opinion with
Adam's apology, "The woman tempted me and
I did eat."
To-day the employe's pass has lost all Its per
sonal use and significance. It Is part of the bond
in many of the schedules. Apart from this, if the
employe desires a trip pass, he must show in writ
ing that he is legally entitled to it. Instead of
coming from the official just above him, it calls for
the signature of one of the highest officials on the
railroad. And the employe's application for this
pass before and after he gets it has a curious

172 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
history. En route to a storehouse for safe-keep
ing it probably figures in a dozen separate reports.
It Is copied into records, certified, approved, and
stamped by numerous officials, clerks, and con
ductors until in course of time it has fulfilled
the multifarious requirements of the Interstate
Commerce Law.
The working of what is known as the "Slxteen-
Hour Law" furnishes another illustration of the
alienation of the employe from the employer
which has followed in the train of the new system.
For example, time was when, if I wished to get
away from my tower duties for an hour or two
for some urgent personal reason, I could, with the
permission of the superintendent, call upon one
of the other men to help me out. For twenty-
five years I watched this method of handling the
business in a reasonable and human manner and
never knew it to be abused. The management
looked upon us as men. To-day, on the other
hand, if I want to get away for a couple of hours
in order to go to a funeral, my superintendent
will refer me to the law in the case as promul
gated by the Interstate Commerce Commission:
No man can exceed his time limit of nine hours
except in cases of emergency, and according to
the announced ruling In such matters, I cannot
plead emergency for anything that I can foresee.
But when a man is dead, I can easily foresee the

THE INDIVIDUAL IN INDUSTRY 173
funeral. Therefore the only funeral a tower
man can go to nowadays is his own. There
is absolutely no encouragement for loyalty or
esprit de corps in mechanical situations of this
kind. Along these lines, then, on the railroads and
elsewhere the severing of the human tie between
the employe and the employer has been growing
from year to year. Just at present there Is every
where, in thinking circles at any rate, a tremen
dous awakening to these simple and serious facts.
Whether the mistakes of management In this
direction can be rectified or not Is a question.
The vital mistake was in depriving the immediate
superior of an employe of the authority and in
dividuality that belongs to his office.
On the other hand. It Is useless to blame em
ployes for taking their cue from the mechanical
system that pays them their wages. The busi
ness reformer along those lines at the present day
has both sides of the situation to deal with. It is
surely my duty, then, along with my personal
narrative to describe as best I can these social
and industrial movements with which in a prac
tical way I have been associated, and of all these
problems this matter of the weeding-out of the
human and personal elements In all kinds of work
ing relationships in America Is, as It seems to me,
by long odds the most important. Additional

174 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
illustration of the matter, then, will not be out of
place. The history of affairs in this direction on the
old Fitchburg Railroad Is a case in point. Here
we have a practical demonstration, extending
over fifteen or twenty years, of the tendencies,
amounting in fact to efforts, of industrial man
agement to widen the gap and lessen the oppor
tunity for personal intercourse between the em
ployer and the worklngman. n
When first I appeared on the scene, the railroad
territory now known as the Fitchburg division of
the Boston and Maine, consisted of five or six
different railroads or divisions of railroads. At
Boston, Fitchburg, North Adams, Troy, New
York, and one or two other places, superinten
dents had their headquarters. After the consoli
dation of these railroads and branches into the
Fitchburg system, these different headquarters
were abolished. To-day a single superintendent
located in Boston covers the whole territory, and
probably this man has in his charge six times
as many employes as were originally taken
care of by five or six separate managers. That
is to say, no effort whatever was made to pre
serve a reasonable and necessary ratio between
supervisors and men for the purpose of main-

THE INDIVIDUAL IN INDUSTRY 175
taining some kind of human relationship between
them. A writer in a recent issue of the "Christian
Register" comments on this phase of the labor
situation as follows: "It is a curious fact that the
recent strikes show that the alienation of the poor
from the rich has increased in spite of the social
interest that has been spent upon them." Look
ing into the matter in the case of the raUroads,
and indeed of nearly all other large industries, the
alienation of the employe from the manager is not
by any means surprising. The absence of this
human factor works out to a logical conclusion In
all efficiency and safety problems on railroads and
elsewhere. A brief contrast of a personal nature between
the old and the new methods of management on
railroads, will throw additional light on this
subject. My superintendent for a great many years on
the Fitchburg Railroad was Mr. J. R. Hartwell.
He knew each trainman, englneman, and station
agent personally. He also knew each engine, its
condition and capacity. He rode over his division
each day and kept in personal touch with every
movement, both of men and equipment. He was
always abreast and in tune with every throb of the
traffic. As chief clerk under Mr. Hartwell, my
duties embraced business of every description on

176 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
the division. I hired the trainmen, kept the pay
rolls, and supervised the train runs and the plac
ing of the equipment. Correspondence of nearly
every description passed through my hands. I
knew instinctively what a superintendent of Mr.
Hartwell's character would do in almost any situa
tion that arose, and in his absence I used his au
thority freely. Under Mr. Hartwell's administra
tion both the employe and the public got a fair
and quick measure of justice. In attending to the
duties of the office I had the assistance of a single
stenographer. Apart from correspondence that
was unavoidable, however, there was an infinity
of detail business that was attended to by word of
mouth, by telephone, or by telegraph.
On the other hand, to-day, if the business on
any given division has doubled, the office force
has been multiplied by six and the correspond
ence and reports by twenty. Matters of the most
trifling description, to which formerly the man in
authority said "yes" or "no," as he would in any
private business, now have to go the rounds of
the several departments and give work to a
dozen typewriters. Everybody is busy reporting
and investigating, business on the typewriters is
being rattled off practically by the ton, and this
kind of railroad debris, entailed to a great ex
tent by the mechanical administration of affairs
and which is carefully tabulated and preserved

THE INDIVIDUAL IN INDUSTRY 177
for years to cover the law, fills acres of floor
space. Altogether the modern railroad superintendent,
his methods, and duties in the year 1912 present a
curious study In industrial economics. I copy in
part a strange, yet, as it seems to me, an abso
lutely truthful account of the situation from a
recent issue of the "Railway Age Gazette."
Nearly everybody In authority on American rail
roads, according to this writer. Is engaged in in
vestigating something and advising somebody.
Consequently, for one thing. It costs more to find
out who broke a light of glass than to pay for the
new material and put It in. Nobody is supposed
to answer a question or a letter until nearly every
one else has had a chance to "investigate and ad
vise" on the matter. A division superintendent
of to-day, we are told, is anywhere from one day
to a week behind with his explanations and ad
vices, and he has absolutely no hope of catching
up — meantime, "the call-boy is doing to-day's
business. Each outbound train depends upon him
to furnish a crew."
The train dispatcher, however, Is the real storm
centre of the railroad business. "He alone has to
do with the present. He always has the informa
tion you want on his tongue's end, — with the
same breath he tells some brakeman's wife on
the 'phone when her husband's train will be in.

178 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
But," the writer continues, "when we close the
door to the dispatcher's office, we shut out the
sound of the telegraph instruments, throbbing
with the details of to-day's business, and as we pass
the doors of the various offices down the hall the
steady rattle of typewriters indicates that events
from twenty-four hours to a month or more old
are being investigated and explained. They can
not possibly catch up with the present. How
would an official feel to step to his job some morn
ing and find that he was free to supervise what was
going on on his division that day, that there was
no need to explain increases in operating expenses,
decreases In net tons, engine failures, car short
ages, delays, accidents, washouts, fires, labor
troubles, or why Passenger Brakeman Jones al
lowed some prominent politician to get off at the
wrong station and thereby miss a scheduled
speech. The sensation would, indeed, be novel,
and it would take time for him to become accus
tomed to such a change in conditions."
But while this mechanical way of doing business
results, in my opinion, in confusion and inef
ficiency in nearly every department of affairs, the
mental harm that has been caused to employes,
managers, and society at large is, at the same time,
almost inconceivable.
Only by studying the situation in this light can
one understand and account for the artificial rela-

THE INDIVIDUAL IN INDUSTRY 179
tionship that is becoming such a significant factor
to-day in American industrial circles.
m
With the men of the old school on the Fitch
burg Railroad I was on very friendly terms and
I was naturally much annoyed at the unceremo
nious treatment they received at the hands of the
new system. In the course of a few years practi
cally every man of my acquaintance who held a
responsible position on the Fitchburg Railroad
and who continued to exercise any form of per
sonality or independence, received his walking
papers. Some of the old officials fitted them
selves easily into the working of the new system,
but many of them did not. It was not so much the
loss of their jobs that troubled these men as it was
the knowledge that so far as recognition was con
cerned their life work had been wasted. To the
mechanical man of the present day dismissal is
for the most part a financial consideration; his
salary is the tie that binds; but at the time I am
now referring to it was the abrupt severing of
personal and business relationship and banish
ment from spheres of honorable work and useful
ness that cut these old railroad men to the soul.
I do not think people at the present day have any
conception of what this momentous change in
relationship between employer and employed

180 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
really meant and means to individuals and to so
ciety at large. To illustrate this point I am going
to picture the process in actual operation as it
concerns one of the old-timers on the Fitchburg
Railroad when he was called on to get down
and out to make room for the new machinery.
Beginning far back in the seventies and for
about twenty-five years following, one of the best-
known men on the railroad was a detective, who
was known all over New England as "Big Mike."
In those days even the general superintendent was
distinguished by a descriptive nickname. These
titles were always characteristic, but their exact
meaning was not always apparent on the surface.
For example, Mike was called "Big" on account
of his heart work on the railroad. By night and
day the human side of his detective work was to
him the ever-present and all-absorbing considera
tion. A few days before I left Boston to return to
my levers in the switch tower, Mike came to see
the superintendent on a final visit. The story was
then going the rounds that some time previously
Mike had caught a young fellow In the act of pil
fering from a freight car. For reasons of his own,
however, instead of sending him to jail In due pro
cess of law, Mike, it was said, had simply taken
his word of honor in some way and then let the
boy go.
Under the new system, of course, this was a

THE INDIVIDUAL IN INDUSTRY 181
capital offence. The management, he was told,
would never countenance such proceedings. What
was the use of machinery, that Is to say, of clerks,
typewriters, lawyers, courts of justice, and pri
sons. If a simple detective were allowed to settle
the case of a young thief in this way. Such, at any
rate, were the excuses and explanations for his
discharge and he had to go. Just what a great
honest heart was capable of doing in this detect
ive business on railroads, however, was probably
only known in all its significance to Mike himself.
Even to his friends and associates on the railroad
the strange fact that he was actually running his
department in the life interest of these embryo
criminals was not fully appreciated until some
time after his departure. In other words, here and
there, in different places in New England, there
was actually a scattered school of these young
fellows, whom Mike at different times had ar
rested and after a personal Investigation had be
friended In some way. By hook or by crook he
had kept them out of jail and enabled them to be
gin life anew with at least one firm friend at their
backs. In this way to an extent that is almost in
credible. Big Mike became a private probation
officer on his own responsibility. In the younger
set of these unfortunates he was particularly in
terested, for the reason that five out of six of his
captures on railroad property were under seven-

182 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
teen years of agie. His regard for these youngsters
developed in time into a passion for helping them
out. In working out their reformation, however,
his method was somewhat unique. To begin with,
according to reports, he always managed to give
his students a good sound beating as a sort of pre
liminary to a mutual understanding. One day,
for example, he chased one of these embryo thieves,
a brawny young fellow, into Walden Pond. A
desperate fight in the water ensued. The contest
was decided in the detective's favor and finally
he dragged his beaten antagonist on to dry land.
Instead of locking him up, however, he took the
young culprit to his own home. He kept him on
probation for a few months and then engaged him
as his personal assistant in the detective business.
To-day this student holds high rank in the pro
fession. In my hearing one day Mike explained
his attachment to the boy, somewhat as follows:
"You see," he said, "I never in my life came so
near getting licked myself, and drowned into the
bargain, as I did that afternoon In Walden Pond.
I had the greatest respect for that kid from the
start." On the afternoon of his departure, Mike was
given a sort of farewell reception. Fifteen or
twenty men from different offices in the old gran
ite building on Causeway Street, Boston, were
present. The boys tried to make it pleasant for

THE INDIVIDUAL IN INDUSTRY 183
him, but he refused to be comforted. The work
of a lifetime was thrown back In his face and he
could not conceal his mental dejection. His desk
or locker was in one corner of the room. Just be
fore he took his departure he placed the contents
of this locker on the table. In all there were about
fifty relics or mementoes of adventure. To each
one of us he presented one of these articles as a
token of remembrance, accompanying each gift
with a fragment of the story connected with it.
Throughout the proceeding Mike acted like a
broken-hearted man. With that farewell to his
old-time associates this champion of the human
side in the detective business passed absolutely
from the world of affairs. He went into seclusion
and even his best friends saw him no more. One
afternoon, however, a year or two ago, the writer
in passing a public playgroiftid in the South End
of Boston caught sight of him. He was intently
watching his old-time favorites, the boys, at play.
When he became aware of my approach, he
turned abruptly and walked away, and then it
dawned upon me that big-hearted Mike, like
Timon of Athens, in the old story, had really
and finally turned his back on the world,
IV
The most interesting of all my experiences in
life so far have been concerned with the adven-

184 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
tures of my pen. My setback in railroad life had
a good deal to do with my literary activity. I
soon gave up all thoughts of promotion in the
railroad service and upon my return to the signal
tower, I devoted nearly all my spare time to
the construction of sentences. The thinking man
wishes to share his thought with other men, and
naturally the first thing for him to do in working
out a programme of this kind is to cultivate ways
and means of expression. That I was entirely
ignorant of the rules of composition or of the
usual requirements of a successful writer did not
bother me for a minute, and as for my knowledge
of grammar I did not give it a thought. But, on
the other hand, I seemed to possess a faculty, an
indefinable something that was independent of
these technical foundations. I could at least tell
a plain story in a plain way. And besides, back
ing up my craving for expression, there was some
how and somewhere in the storehouses of my
mind an infinite array of sentences of matchless
form and magical significance acquired during
years of thoughtful reading, out of all which
favoring circumstances there came to me in the
course of time a sort of intuition of rightness
both of form and substance. To a greater extent
than I can possibly explain a sentence has al
ways been to me a matter of euphony, not only
in the measured ring of the words, but also, as it

THE INDIVIDUAL IN INDUSTRY 185
were, in the sounding significances of the thought.
Such at any rate in my own case is the anatomy
of style.
Nevertheless, in making the best of my natural
equipment a good deal of hard work was neces
sary. To begin with I simply went to work to
practice the arts of condensation and clearness
of presentation for their own sakes. The simple
satisfaction of being able to put Into words what
I saw with my eyes and fancied In my mind was
sufficient reward for the exertion It entailed. And
I was assisted in my efforts at the time by a very
commonplace incident. Shortly after my return
to the switch tower, I wrote a short story on some
railroad subject and sent it to a publisher in Bos
ton. It was returned without comment. I then
sent the same article by way of a friend to another
publisher, and the verdict from him was some
what as follows: "If the man works in a switch
tower, in all frankness I say let him stick to his
job." I took the advice in good part and immediately
went to work on plans for improvement. I took
Shakespeare's play, "The Tempest," as a sort of
model with which to experiment. I studied the
plot, the characters, and the scenes. When
thoroughly familiar with these features I pro
ceeded to write the story in my own words, be
ing careful to leave nothing out, and weaving the

186 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST \
whole into a straightforward narrative, contain
ing about one thousand words. I wrote and re
wrote the story at least one hundred times. In
this task my ingenuity in condensation and in
the presentation of my material was taxed to the
utmost. The time and labor, however, were well
spent, and then, just at the time when I was hesi
tating about my next literary move, my attention
was called to a short story announcement in the
"Black Cat."
Ten thousand dollars was to be divided into
prizes. Just for the fun of the thing I determined
to try my hand. I was successful beyond my
dreams. Within a year, in prizes and otherwise,
I earned about one thousand dollars. For the
time being I put aside all social and industrial
problems and abandoned myself to the spell of
this kind of intellectual enjoyment. An introduc
tion to one of my first stories, in which I describe
myself as lording it over the situation like the dis
coverer of a new world, gives one a good idea
of my mental exuberance: "Surely it is a good
thing," I wrote, "to have a mind stored with
treasures from all parts of the world. Puck has
said it, — 'What fools these mortals be.' Not all
fools, Mr. Puck; fools and knaves, and will you
believe It? I am very glad that such is the dis
tressing combination. For I am one of the knaves,
you understand, gloating over the perplexity of

THE INDIVIDUAL IN INDUSTRY 187
my fellows, to the end that I may secure material
for moonlight reveries and dutiful subjects for my
fancy to fling among the blazing logs In the fire
place as I, their king and conjurer, put them
through their paces under the magical influence
of my pipe and my glass of toddy."
The enterprise of an imagination of this reck
less description could not possibly confine itself
to this humdrum universe. In a story entitled
"Squaring the Circle," I took a bold plunge into
the hereafter. I was working as a telegraph
operator at the central shaft in the Hoosac Tun
nel at the time, and one day with a companion
I had the temerity to explore a subterranean
cavern which I discovered in the vicinity of the
office. After an adventurous trip and by certain
means, which are fully described in the story,
I found myself looking down through a small
cranny into a globe, which probably fills the cen
tre of our planet. Stretching round and down be
neath me was a glorious arch or sky inclosing a
pale silvery atmosphere. My amazement can be
imagined when I perceived that this vast space
was thronged with millions of tiny globes about
the size of golf-balls, which were darting and cir
cling hither and thither with inconceivable swift
ness. Some of them were white, others again
were coal black. The white globes, I noticed,
were able in some way, in the twinkling of an eye.

188 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST ,
to transform themselves into little squares and the
process seemed to act as a brake on their motive
power, enabling them to float at will or to join
themselves to other squares in the form of rings
and festoons of striking beauty. The black
globes, on the other hand, being unable to square
the circle, ceaselessly wheeled and darted in a
sort of reckless pursuit of each other. As with
mingled feelings of pity and wonder I watched
the endless gyrations of these black spirit-like
meteors, I said to myself, "There is no rest for
the wicked." On the other hand, when I turned
my attention to the glorious throng of white
spheres floating or swaying everywhere in restful
harmony, surely, I thought, this must be the
fulfillment of the promise, "The peace that pass
eth understanding." I managed to capture one
of the little black spheres and take it out with
me to the office at the central shaft for examina
tion; when I opened it, the contents, combining
with the gaseous atmosphere in the tunnel, caused
a terrible explosion and set the office on fire.
For this and other reasons of a weird and creepy
description, the telegraph office in the central
shaft was immediately abandoned.

During the years In which my chief intellectual
occupation was story-writing I was engaged in a

THE INDIVIDUAL IN INDUSTRY 189
few side excursions which were not only Interest
ing in themselves, but, as it would now appear,
they were just what was needed to steer me back
into a more substantial groove of intellectual
effort. One day, I heard Mr. Samuel Jones, the
then Mayor of Toledo, deliver an address at one
of the Mills meetings in the Parker Memorial
Building In Boston. He made a simple yet In
spiring plea for more brotherhood in our social
and industrial dealings with each other. I then
and there made up my mind to pay him a visit
in order to study his ideas in practical operation.
The opportunity to do so came in the year 1900.
I made the trip to Toledo and spent nearly a
week, several hours a day, in the mayor's company.
I visited his office, his house, his factory, and In
cidentally I filled my note-book with observations
and records of sight-seeing. I said to myself,
"Here is a man who has the time, the opportun
ity, and the means to work out the problem of
social and industrial relationship to a finish; what
is his plan and what are the results?" "To be
gin with," he said to me, "I consider the whole
question of better social and industrial condi
tions as mainly a moral one. I have given up hop
ing for or believing in regeneration by party or
collective methods of any kind. I am not one of
those who think you can vote righteousness or
brotherly conduct into anybody or into any

190 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
nation. All machine methods of uplift, whether in
industry or politics, are futile. You might just
as well go on to the street and take a dozen men
out of a crowd, call them musicians, and bid them
play as to try to vote a social conscience into any
community." There was no concealing the fact
that the Mayor of Toledo was an enthusiast. He
had an absorbing sympathy for struggling mis
directed humanity, and his appeal was for
brotherhood; cooperation not competition be
tween the units of society. His application of
these ideas to the management of his own factory
makes very interesting reading. "My brother
Dan," he said to me, "has general charge of the
place. We began work here in a small way in
1894 employing six men; now we have over one
hundred. We manufacture oil-well appliances
and particularly a sucker rod which is an inven
tion of my own. Yes — of course it is patented.
Do I preach against patents and yet use one? Yes,
I am sorry to say Society compels me to. I sup
pose my excuse is that I can do more good with
it than without. A man meets this dilemma in a
hundred forms and must figure it out with his
own conscience. In running our shop, we set out
upon a basis of absolute equality. Equality in
everything but wages, and I should n't be sur
prised if we include even that before long; as it
is to-day we pay a minimum rate of two dollars.

THE INDIVIDUAL IN INDUSTRY 191
We pay no' less to anybody. At the same time
we have considerable work that could be done
just as well by boys for less than half the money,
but we don't want child labor at any price. Again,
we have no bosses nor foreman in the shops.
No ironclad regulations nor orders deface the
walls. Of course certain things creep in that have
to be stopped; for instance, newspaper reading
during working-hours. Well, there is a type
written letter on a pillar yonder that states the
case in a fair way and it is quite sufficient. It
reads like this, ' According to our ideas of justice
and equality, what is fair for one Is fair for all.
If one reads a newspaper during working-hours,
all have the same right; obviously this would ruin
our common interest; therefore let us all abstain
from newspaper reading during our eight hours
of work.' "
In conclusion. Mayor Jones summarized his
Golden Rule settlement as follows, "A shop with
one hundred workers, the day's work eight hours,
a minimum daily wage of two dollars, no bossing
or disagreeable features, and a mutual insurance
plan to which we all belong. For those who re
main with us six months a week's vacation with
full pay, and a dividend at Christmas. So far this
has amounted to five per cent on the year's salary.
With the money, each man receives a letter of
Christmas greeting and sympathy from the firm.

192 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
A more inspiring and satisfactory state of af
fairs cannot well be imagined than this Golden
Rule settlement, and It lasted just as long as
Mayor Jones lived to direct its activities and in
spire it with his presence. Shortly after his death,
however, the shop and the system connected
with it fell to pieces, for the simple reason that
the plan, without the head and the authority to
superintend it, was at least one hundred years
ahead of its time. A few years later, when I again
visited Toledo, I found the whole splendid sys
tem had dissolved into its original competitive
parts simply for lack of authority and leader
ship. This visit to Toledo broke the spell of short-story
writing, 'although it was not until a year or two later
that I finally withdrew from the field . Meanwhile I
spent a great deal of time studying the social and
labor situation and in visiting factories and busi
ness establishments to get in touch with actual
conditions. And In connection with these studies
I then began to write a little for the press. For
instance. In 1902 I received an invitation from
the manager of the "Boston Journal" to repre
sent that paper in the Pennsylvania coal regions
during the great strike. My instructions were to
report the situation just as I found it, regardless
of personal opinion or newspaper policies. In
this way I had the opportunity to get pretty close

THE INDIVIDUAL IN INDUSTRY 193
to the inner workings of a great industrial con
flict. As in the railroad business and In the man
agement of a Golden Rule factory, so In this coal
region, among thousands of striking miners, I
found every situation dependent on the conserva
tion of authority and the individuality of the
leaders. I can never forget an interview I had
with one of these mine leaders. He was quite a
remarkable example of the second generation of
foreigners. He could speak five languages flu
ently, three of them he could read and write.
When I requested him to tell me something
about the personality and influence of the labor
leaders during the strike, his answer, word for
word, was as follows: "Well, sir, I'll tell you just
what I think about it. To begin with, I will say
the operators want the foreigners and can't get
along without them. The more ignorant they are,
generally speaking, the cheaper the labor is. An
American boy will seldom go into the mine after
leaving school. Now, then, granted that you will
always have these ignorant people in these mines,
the question arises. How are you going to keep
their passion in check and to improve their gen
eral condition, which I suppose you will allow to
be praiseworthy objects? Can the authorities do
this? Can their officers and agents speak the lan
guages of these people? Can they secure their
confidence? Not at all. Well, then, I can. Now,

194 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
then, all I ask you to do is to call upon the chief
of police or the chief magistrate in any township
in these coal regions, and if these people don't
inform you that these leaders are, generally speak
ing, honest men and a power of good In the com
munity, they have certainly changed their minds
since you have come into these parts." It was
after considerable experience of this kind in
mills, mines, and factories that I finally settled
down to a systematic study of the accident situa
tion on the railroads.

VII
A STUDY OF THREE PRESIDENTS
When a man becomes simply the henchman of
a political party, a labor union, or a corporation,
his opinions, as a rule, have a biased foundation.
The necessity for a broader conception of in
dividual responsibility and exertion in all the
walks of life is at the bottom of the philosophy
contained in this autobiography. With this philo
sophy in the foreground of my mental equip
ment, I worked from the year 1903 untU 1908 in
the switch tower at West Cambridge, studying
the service on American railroads from every
conceivable point of view. The deeper I looked
into the matter of preventable accidents, the
more I became convinced of the personal nature
of the difficulties with which the problem was
surrounded. Here is a situation, I said to myself,
that I can at least clarify and explain. On this
one word accident I can now concentrate an in
dividuality that for twenty-five years has been
trying to find an outlet.
I Roughly speaking my breaking-in, physically,
technically, and intellectually, had consumed the
best part of twenty -five years. During these

196 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
years, so far as material or financial betterment
was concerned, I had been actually going back
ward. In South America when I was seventeen
years of age, I received twice as much salary as
I have ever received in the United States. I mar
ried when my pay was thirteen dollars a week,
and I am sorry that I am obliged to crowd out
this inner circle of my life-story with the simple
statement that I look upon my married life as an
ample and happy reward for all the disappoint
ments and difficulties contained in the rest of my
experience. Just at present, then, I am concerned with life
in the open. Before I managed to get a public
hearing on the subject of railroad accidents,
I spent two or three years in fruitless efforts.
I sent a number of appeals to railroad managers
in different parts of the country. I proposed safety
leagues, badges, buttons, safety officials on every
railroad, — anything to excite individual inter
est in the matter. Most of these ideas are now in
practical and successful operation on many rail
roads. But from only one of the managers in
that early period did I receive anything more
definite than an acknowledgment of my com
munications. From Mr. Kruttschnitt, vice-presid
ent of the Southern Pacific, I received by letter
the first actual recognition and encouragement.
This, I think, was early in 1906. I followed this

A STUDY OF THREE PRESIDENTS 197
up by addressing the legal department of the Bos
ton and Maine Railroad, and the reply I re
ceived was as follows : —
I have your letter of March 16th. I also re
ceived yours of the 16th ult., enclosing "Observa
tions of a Signalman," etc. I trust you will par
don me for not acknowledging the receipt of your
communication. I have been away most of the
time for the last month and have only just had an
opportunity to read your remarks. I think it
splendid, and I believe that you have hit upon
some of the difficulties of our system. I am
sending your paper to President Tuttle.
Yours very truly,
(Signed) Ehgar J. Rich,
General Solicitor.
This letter led, by a simple evolution of events,
to the publication, in the year 1908, of "The
Confessions of a Railroad Signalman."
Mr. Rich, of course, had no knowledge what
ever of my writings untU they appeared in the
"Atlantic Monthly," but it was his intense loy
alty to the railroad, together with his compre
hensive conception of the true interests of the
public, the employe, and the employer, that
strengthened my own position in the matter and
renewed my devotion to the work in hand.

198 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST ,
It was in the month of June, 1907, that I fin
ally took the bull by the horns. In the June num
ber of the "Atlantic Monthly" an article was
published entitled, "The Personal Factor in the
Labor Problem." I knew just as well as the writer
of this article all about President Tuttle's kindly
feeling towards railroad men. To Mr. Tuttle be
longed all the credit for the harmonious relations
that obtained at the time on the Boston and
Maine Railroad between management and men.
But unfortunately harmony was not the only
consideration, either then or now, in the effi
ciency problems on railroads, although politicians
and the leaders of labor unions may be of that
opinion. At any rate, after carefully reading the article
in question, I went right into Boston and re
quested an interview with the editor of the "At
lantic Monthly." I said to him, "Do you know
what this so-called harmony on the railroad really
means? Would you like to follow its trail and
note by the way its actual significance in terms of
service, — the relationship, for instance, between
this kind of harmony and the railroad accident?"
The nature of the editor's answer can be gathered
from the articles that followed in the pages of the
"Atlantic." Leaving these articles, then, to tell their own
story of my subsequent work and activities, I wish

A STUDY OF THREE PRESIDENTS 199
now to devote a little space to a study of three
well-known and justly celebrated men, who
became interested in my articles on the rail
road business as they appeared from month to
month in the pages of the "Atlantic Monthly."
Not only are my interviews with these men
never-to-be-forgotten events in my own history,
but the studies are, I think, of peculiar and timely
Interest at the present day. In November, 1908,
my study of "Three Presidents" was published
In the "Boston Herald," substantially as fol
lows : —
Some time ago I was accorded an interview
with one of the most intellectual and cleverest
railroad men in the United States. President
Mellen, of the New Haven Road, Is certainly a
remarkably well-equipped man. My impressions
of his strength, his versatility, his wide and
clear comprehension of the smallest details of rail
road life, as weU as of its broadest issues, are un
mistakably vivid and favorable. One of the most
remarkable features connected with the President
of the New Haven system seemed to me to be
his physical make-up, his cast of countenance,
and the structure or contour of his head. My
first thought when I met him was that I had seen
a very similar head before, somewhere in some
art gallery. I was not mistaken, for later I came
across the facsimile, which includes a remarkable

200 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
facial resemblance. In case number two in the
room devoted to Egyptian antiquities in the Bos
ton Museum of Fine Arts. The head is typical
of a splendid intellectual era. At any rate, Mr.
Mellen has a strangely elongated skull, with
other Egyptian characteristics. His face is ex
ceedingly pale, and the features, while denoting
great firmness and strength of character, are
seemingly passionless and absolutely impenetra
ble. When I entered the room, which was of enor
mous proportions, Mr. Mellen appeared to be so
solitary, so motionless, so statuesque, I was posi
tively startled when he turned his head. I write
down these random Impressions, just as they
occur to me, for the reason that in every conceiv
able way President Mellen presents to us a re
markable contrast to President Roosevelt. Both
are big typical Americans. Both are kings In their
own domains, but they are not to be judged or
considered from the same point of view. What
they actually stand for, think about, and talk
about represents schools that have little in com
mon, and the distinction between them is as wide
as the continent, although their ideals are equally
honorable and praiseworthy.
In Mr. Mellen's conversation one listens to a
discourse on commercial America. Standing on
a pedestal he surveys American ideas, motives.

A STUDY OF THREE PRESIDENTS 201
and the swaying to and fro of public opinion as
an astronomer or soothsayer might contemplate
the system of the stars. Both the stars and the
politicians are subject to the laws of gravitation
which Mr. Mellen has laboriously studied and
thoroughly understands. The impressionist con
cludes from his conversation that If we could only
be persuaded to obey certain ordinary and com
mon-sense laws, all would be well with us. But,
unfortunately, once in a while, from unknown
causes, unexpected movements and catastrophes
take place among the stars, and in like incompre
hensible manner, once in a while emotional out
bursts and romantic stupidities of public senti
ment play havoc with the commercial prospects
of the American nation. The American Don
Quixote, tilting at sentimental windmills, has
over and over again dried up the money market
and snatched the bread and butter from the
mouths of thousand upon thousands of honest
working-people. There is dry positive common sense in this
argument, or rather, in this impression of mine.
If the history of progress has any lesson at all for
the social student, it teaches him that the prin
ciples which, to a great extent, are represented
to-day by Mr. Mellen's commercial policies are
fundamentally right. But we must not forget
that these policies are commercial, not romantic

202 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
or emotional. The merging of conflicting inter
ests into harmonious systems under sane and
watchful supervision means Intelligent progress.
In the smallest economies of life, as well as in its
highest spiritual activities, we are all ardent be
lievers In and promoters of the principle of con
solidation and the merger. In the onward march
of civilization we cannot escape from it, either
on railroads or in the adjusting of affairs that
regulate the destinies of nations, whose conflict
ing Interests in the past have supplied us with in
centive to cheat and rob each other and to wage
brutal war in the interests of conflicting religions
and of different ideas of liberty.
Of course this Is only an Individual impression
of the ethics of commercialism, represented by
the merger principle. In a general way the im
pressionist is justified in associating Mr. Mellen
with progress along these commercial and com
mon-sense lines. At the same time, behind Mr.
Mellen's calm and sphinx-like exterior there may
be concealed whole worlds of emotional and ro
mantic philosophy, but the impressionist never
catches a glimpse of it.
In the same way President Roosevelt stands at
the head of his own but a very different school.
There is not a trace of the high-poised astrono
mer or astute calculator of commercial probabili
ties in his composition. Looking at President

A STUDY OF THREE PRESIDENTS 203
Mellen in repose you wonder if he can speak at
all, but the face of President Roosevelt in re
pose is inconceivable. His face fairly ripples with
ideas. The impression one actually receives from
it is kaleidoscopic. The face Is kin to the whole
world; for President Roosevelt is an immense
worshiper and his idols are the emotional, the
romantic, and the spiritual ideals of the Ameri
can people. Along these lines he is the social and
political magician of the twentieth century. He
touches the ground with his wand and up springs
a burning question. In furnishing these period
ical surprises to the nation he reminds one of
Prospero on the Enchanted Island. Every once
in a while he says to himself, as Prospero did to
the lovers, "I will now bestow upon the people
some vanity of mine art; it is my promise and
they expect it from me."
But President Roosevelt is practical as well as
emotional. He is the preserver of the woods, the
fields, and the rivers from the commercial de
stroyer. He Is the patron of sports and the De
fender of the Faith. He is at once the God of War
and the Angel of Peace. He is the guardian of
home life, the reflector of the best instincts and
emotions of the American people, and he holds
their votes in the hollow of his hand.
However, what I have written Is merely a sort
of historical impression derived from reading

204 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
and conversation. Let us now come a little closer
and take a few snapshots of the Chief Executive
of the nation at close range in his own office.
On February 26, 1908, at ten o'clock In the
morning, I entered the business end of the White
House, and after making myself known, I was
escorted to a small anteroom where I divested
myself of my derby and overcoat. Ten minutes
later I was ushered into another room of more im
posing proportions. A huge business-like table,
surrounded by a number of equally serviceable
chairs, occupies the entire length of the room.
Lincoln's address at Gettysburg, a simple orna
ment or two, a generous open fireplace, and a
small book-stand with the word "Cabinet,"
stamped on the volumes are the principal features
of what I took to be the Cabinet Room.
Before long a number of people began to file in
and to form a circle round the table until the room
was comfortably filled. At this point my mental
note-taking begins in earnest. I was informed
there were several delegations present, represent
ing educational societies from various States.
The ladles were all handsomely gowned. They
appeared to be Intensely Interested In the pro
ceedings. The men were equally well-groomed,
but not quite so fidgety and anxious as the fair
sex. Nearly everybody displayed a badge or but
ton of some kind. Here and there, however.

A STUDY OF THREE PRESIDENTS 205
among the groups I noticed a few undecorated
and unimportant looking gentlemen. I was told
they -were Representatives and Congressmen con
nected with the delegations, and there were also
two or three governors of states In the company.
I suppose there Is little enchantment in the
White House for people who are already distin
guished. At any rate, these "already great" peo
ple appeared to be perfectly at home and to the
"manor" born. One of them was perched on the
edge of the table and persisted In swinging his feet
to and fro in an Indifferent school-boy fashion;
another with his coat-collar turned up and folded
arms, standing a trifle to one side, reminded me
forcibly of the picture of Napoleon on the quarter
deck. Whfle I was in the midst of this Interesting
study, the folding doors directly in front of me
were drawn aside, and I got my first glimpse of
President Roosevelt. He sat at his desk dictat
ing to a stenographer. A large window in the
rear of the desk enabled me to get a very good
outline of his features. The head is remarkably
square in appearance, so are the shoulders, and at
the same time I noticed a decided and quite un
common jutting out or pouting of the lips as the
words are dictated. Pausing for a second to
think, the President's left eyebrow is lowered a
trifle, the lips protrude, but as quickly part again.

206 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
and then the squarely set jaw and the much-to-
be-admired and world-famous rows of squarely
set teeth are in evidence. You cannot say the
President's clothing is extremely neat or won
derfully well fitting; the impression Is rather that
of a sensible work-a-day outfit, without a single
peculiarity. The President's voice is deepset and musical.
Emphasis and sincerity are its noticeable char
acteristics. "How do you do?" is the simplest
of sentences, yet the President gives to it a differ
ent modulation, a different accent and emphasis,
almost every time he makes use of it. He pos
sesses more variations of "I am glad to see you,"
than railroad brakemen make use of in calling the
stations. "I am glad to see you." "Very glad,
indeed, to meet you in particular, Mr. So and So."
He rings all the changes in these little courtesies
of life just the same as he does in all his policies
and opinions in national affairs.
But you almost forget his remarkable tact and
kindliness of greeting when you watch the amaz
ing rapidity with which he circles the table and
disposes, in the strongest and happiest fashion,
of group after group of his visitors. Of course,
every one of these visitors has some little hobby,
some little pent-up speech, some neatly prepared
and beautifully illuminated document with which
each one in particular intends to arrest the Pres-

A STUDY OF THREE PRESIDENTS 207
ident, and actually compel his attention for a sec
ond or two. But nearly all of them were woefully,
or perhaps I should say, happily mistaken. For
he halted at each group just long enough to get a
hint of its particular hobby, or the heart of its
errand, and then, in one or two ringing sentences
of congratulation and encouragement, he seemed
to touch them all personally and sympathetically
In some way. He was bubbling over with enthu
siasm on the very topic that appeals to the heart
of each group. In the best sense he seemed to be
all worked up, his face was flushed, the veins
stood out, every word rang as sharp and clear as
the blows of a hammer on an anvil, and every
sentence was made into an opportunity to shake
hands with about six people. But enthusiasm is
always in a hurry, and everybody in the room
seemed to have caught the cue from the Pres
ident. The ladles, in particular, entered into the
spirit of the business; they seemed to understand
and feel the tremendous task the President had
before him, with the anteroom crowded and more
coming, until positively the people seemed to
hurry him along; they forgot themselves and
their errands, and wished him Godspeed as if his
mission was something like Paul Revere's on the
road to Concord.
In circling the table and the groups of visitors
the first time, the most fortunate individual, as

208 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
well as the happiest, was a mere boy. The young
fellow was introduced to the President by the
governor of his state. They had traveled a long
distance to show the President a little mechani
cal invention of some kind. I am sorry I was un
able to ascertain just what it was. The governor
explained it as best he could, while the boy looked
on, nervously playing with his cap the while.
At first the President turned it over and over
again and examined it, as it seemed to me, rather
listlessly. He had no time for mechanical conun
drums or puzzles. But suddenly, something
about it arrested his attention, and he made a
break through the crowd for the nearest window.
Holding it up to the light, he gave way to several
exclamations of astonishment and delight. The
boy had followed him to the window — dropping
his cap on the way. The President behaved like
a child with a new toy. Then he proceeded to ex
plain it to the governor as explicitly and con
fidentially as if he had made it himself. Finally
he turned round to the inventor and I thought
he would surely dislocate the boy's wrist with
hand-shaking. But it must not be imagined that the Pres
ident's voyage round the table was all plain sail
ing. At one point he was fairly buttonholed by a
lady and two gentlemen. I watched them closely,
because I noticed they were all talking to him

A STUDY OF THREE PRESIDENTS 209
at once, while he, on his part, in an attitude of
amused astonishment, turned his head quickly
to the right and to the left and then back again,
In an effort to catch the drift of the medley.
Watching the play, I said to myself, "Here at
last Is the real thing, Mr. President, — from
Chicago, probably; I wonder how you will get
round or over these noisy obstacles." My sus
pense lasted but a second or two, for suddenly the
President, with a smile and a wave of his hand,
motioned them to follow him Into his private
office. To the right of his desk was a lounge,
very low-seated, very soft, and very deep, and
just wide enough to accommodate three ordinary
people on a fair squeeze. Simply in no time the
three talkatlves found themselves snugly en
tombed on this lounge with the lady In the mid
dle and the President on one of the business-like
office chairs, planted squarely In front of them.
It looked like an all morning session. In reality
it lasted about three minutes. For the occupants
of the lounge to speak above a whisper under
such conditions was out of the question. The
gentleman on the left nevertheless started in
with a rush, but his enthusiasm entailed a cer
tain amount of bobbing up and down, which per
formance was faithfully and ludicrously imitated
by his companions. They could n't help them
selves. You could actually watch the arguments

210 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
dying away on the man's lips, and with it, of
course, the bobbing up and down. It was plainly
impossible to carry on any kind of conversation
under such peculiar and uncomfortable condi
tions. The first pause was the President's cue
and with pencil in hand he actually tapped out a
couple of sentences on the breast of one of the vic
tims, at which there was a burst of merriment,
and a second later the President was back among
the crowd. Of course the scene from beginning
to end was merely the impression of a spectator,
of which the actors in the affair were utterly
unconscious. My own turn came at last, and upon making
myself known, the President gave me a hearty
slap on the shoulder and exclaimed, "I am very
glad to meet you; go right in there and sit down.
I want to have a real talk with you."
So I took a seat in his office, close to his desk,
while he proceeded to circle the table with its
new group of visitors, for the second time. I sat
there for half an hour or more, but I was not for
gotten by any means. The President returned
to the office from time to time for the purpose of
giving me an introduction to gentlemen who
were interested in the railroad business, and with
whom he wished me to converse. But when fin
ally his morning's work was over, he seated him
self at the desk and proceeded to tell me how

A STUDY OF THREE PRESIDENTS 211
much he was interested in the problems that we
are confronted with to-day on American railroads.
Then he asked me a few questions in regard to the
situation. I was about to answer when the Pres
ident turned to a bundle of documents that were
stacked upon his desk and began to read and
sign them. Naturally I thought it my duty to
stop talking until he was disengaged, but he
looked up from his work and said, "Pay no atten
tion to me; keep right on talking." So I spun out
a yarn that occupied fully ten minutes. During
this time the President had been busy reading
and signing all sorts of letters and documents,
long and short, and affixing his autograph to
photographs and miscellaneous programmes and
such-like. But I could see that his mind was in
tently fixed on his work, for every once in a while
he would throw a paper on one side without his
signature, and for this reason I could n't imag
ine it possible that he was also listening to me.
Yet such was the actual fact, for later, when he
gave me his undivided attention, he brought
out the points of my argument just like a lawyer
analyzing the testimony of a witness.
But you could no more confine the President's
interest or conversation to the railroad business
than you could confine a rainstorm to a square
foot of territory. He fairly revels among the big
issues that are uppermost in the minds of stu-

212 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
dents of American conditions and civilization.
He laid particular emphasis upon the laboring-
man and his power and Influence upon the desti
nies of the country. The bold peasantry, the
strong-limbed, stout-hearted artisan, their coun
try's pride, are the national backbone. The Inaln-
stay of any nation Is, after all, to a great extent,
brawn and muscle. And yet he was by no means
forgetful of the ethics of strength and the im
portance of character. For his own boy to break
his collar-bone was a trifle, to breaking his word.
The influence that the accumulation of riches
has upon the national character was another of
his topics. "What is your pay per day?" he
asked. I told him. "Well," he replied, "your
wealth bears about the same proportion to mine
that mine does to the multi-millionaire. Not so
long ago we heard that Mr. So and So was com
ing to live at Oyster Bay. The news caused a
mild sensation, even among the well-to-do resid
ents. If there is anything that one enjoys at
these small places in the country, or the seashore,
it is the simplicity of our everyday life and of our
surroundings. Yet one and all of us at Oyster
Bay understood only too well that if So and So
with his unlimited wealth and love of display, set
tled down in our midst, it meant good-bye to
everything that made Oyster Bay such a delight
ful retreat. We knew our simple and efficient

' A STUDY OF THREE PRESIDENTS 213
servant-maids would be displaced, sooner or
later, by butlers. In all the pomp of livery and
buttons. Our modest pony carriages would be
come chariots with prancing horses; our unob
trusive cottages would give place to luxurious
palaces, and our comfortable work-a-day cloth
ing would, to a great extent, be discarded for a
mere display of fashion and expensive fabric. In
a word, the money-god would soon become su
preme instead of the simple deities, whose wor
ship endears to us the woods, the fields, and the
home. The nation at large has to guard against
the same dangers that threatened our community
at Oyster Bay."
Then the President arose, and shaking my
hand said to me, "I am very glad you came to see
me. I wish to encourage you, and I Intend to
follow your work very closely."
At this moment the chief usher glided quietly in
to the room. I honestly think he was half ashamed
of himself, and no wonder. He held in his hand a
final list of unfortunates who were still waiting
their turn in the anteroom. I think the move
ments of the usher were a faithful reflection of
his feelings. He came in and crossed the room
sidewlse, so to speak, and actually described a
semicircle before he arrived within speaking dis
tance of the President. Merely glancing at the
proffered list. President Roosevelt shook his

214 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
head — a trifle wearfly, I thought — and as
nearly as I can remember the words, exclaimed:
"Very sorry, indeed, but not to-day, utterly im
possible." A few months later I was afforded an oppor
tunity to meet the President of Harvard Uni
versity. As an impressionist I have very little to
say about Dr. Eliot. I don't think he lends him
self, in the slightest degree, to an observer from
that point of view. But just where the impres
sionist comes to a standstill for lack of material,
the student begins to get busy. Without any re
flection on men of pronounced ideas and assert
ive personality, I cannot help thinking that as
one approaches the highest levels of intellectual
and spiritual achievement, the more difficult it is
likely to become for the ordinary observer to
"find the mind's construction in the face." Hap
pily, however, students and disciples are gifted
with a keener insight. To them it is given to
penetrate, just as far as they can appreciate. The
intuition of such people pays little attention to
appearances, and when they go forth into the
wilderness to meet John the Baptist, they at
once recognize the man whose Image is in their
own hearts.
Nevertheless I think it is true, in the main,
that in forming opinions of people one's mental
camera is usually on the watch for characteristics

A STUDY OF THREE PRESIDENTS 215
that jut out, unconsciously or otherwise, in lan
guage or behavior. The impressionist is eager to
seize upon and to emphasize these obtrusions.
At first sight this may appear to be a common
place method of securing material for intelligent
portrait studies, and yet in many cases the indi
cations are reliable and one can easily detect these
"hall marks" of a man's nature, which suggest,
quite forcibly at times, his individual route to
fame or fortune.
President Mellen, for example, has certain
well-defined obtrusions. Though unmistakable
in their significance, they are nearly all of a nega
tive character. The conclusions you arrive at in
regard to his splendid intellectual equipment and
his far-reaching business acumen are all your own.
They are the deductions or Impressions which
you have gathered from sources which perhaps
you cannot even name. This kind of an impres
sion stands at the head of Its class. Under its in
fluence your opinion is formed quickly and posi
tively, and you give but little thought to the evi
dence. The blind God himself works along these
lines. You love and know not how or why.
But Impressions of the second class are alto
gether different. They are adulterated with out
side influences, and consequently they rank lower
In the scale of Impressions.
President Roosevelt, for example, has a score

216 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
of obtrusions of the most positive character. Your
impressions of him are not intuitions at all, for
the evidence has been placed before you, and your
verdict has been invited. He first twangs his bow
to attract your attention, so there is no mystery
about the shaft that strikes you so fairly and
squarely. Doubtless the impression you receive
is vivid enough, but it is not an unassisted inter
pretation of your own, for your subject has said to
you in so many words, "Take this medicine; —
now what do you think of me? " Under such cir
cumstances many of us are as clay in the hands
of the potter.
But there is another — a third class of im
pressions. They are not easily or lightly arrived
at. They rank very low as impressions and very
high as Interpretations. A portrait study derived
from impressions of the third class is the most
instructive and delightful of all. As I have else
where remarked, where the Impressionist halts
for lack of material, the student is called upon to
consider the problem.
During a conversation with Dr. Eliot, that
lasted nearly an hour, I was unable to detect any
mannerisms or obtrusions of any kind. I failed
to note any marked characteristics, either of
thought or behavior. And yet, while I was un
conscious of any offhand impressions, I was con
vinced that a little quiet studv would be likely

A STUDY OF THREE PRESIDENTS 217
to bring interesting facts to the surface. I got
this idea into my head from the satisfaction I re
ceived from my interview.
I called to mind the physical portrait of the
man sitting gracefully upright in the armchair.
While there was unmistakable dignity in the fig
ure, it was the apparent ease with which it was
carried that attracted my attention. In fact, to
me, the most significant feature about Dr. El
iot's appearance was the strange absence of any
indication of weight or importance. As with his
physical appearance, so with his conversation and
movements. The same easy dignity, the same
lightness of touch, was over all. This absence of
weight or effort, where the indication of such
might reasonably be expected in art and litera
ture, for example, surely denotes achievement
of the highest order. On the face of the master
piece there are no traces of the price. In toil and
thought, that has been expended in its produc
tion. In this way, after many days, perfection
pays tribute to its childlike origin.
Without doubt President Eliot has his likes
and dislikes, but so far as I could detect, he has
no quarrel with anybody. His kindly smile and
the quiet emphasis of his manner impart to his
conversation a soothing and satisfying effect
which Is very pleasing to the listener. There is
no suspicion of dogmatism. He does not say, "I

218 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
like this and dislflie that"; but rather, "The situa
tion is so and so, consequently our work lies in
this direction — there all the honor lies."
Looking before and after, that is to say, from
what I have read about Dr. Eliot, added now to
my personal notes, I am inclined to focus my por
trait of him into two words, namely, penetration
and radiation. In a greater and a wider sense he
possesses the penetration of President Mellen
and the radiating qualities of President Roose
velt. But he stands a head taller than these men
for the reason that in his hands the fruits of these
faculties are simplified, organized, and solem
nized. By penetration and radiation, I mean the
ability to discover and spread abroad, in the
sanest and happiest fashion, whatsoever things
are true and beautiful.
I think President Eliot is entitled to preemi
nence for another reason. In the course of con
versation it occurred to me that at the end of Dr.
Eliot's sentences there is nearly always an im
plied or real interrogation point. He frequently
halts in the middle of a sentence and invites his
listener to pick up and carry the idea along. To
me this seemed to be a delightful concession.
While others are interested in their own hobbles
and personality. Dr. Eliot, above all things, ap
pears to be interested in you, his visitor. In this
way the element of self-forgetfulness is intro:

A STUDY OF THREE PRESIDENTS 219
duced, which is the crowning test of excellence in
work and endeavor of nearly every description.
Taking leave of Dr. Eliot as he stood in his
own doorway, I called to mind one of Thomas
Carlyle's most notable portrait studies: "The
reader is invited to mark this monk. A person
able man . . . stands erect as a pillar; the eyes
of him beaming into you in a really strange way;
the face massive grave with 'a very eminent nose.'
This is Brother Samson, a man worth looking at."

VIII
THE RIDDLE OF THE RAILROADS

I NOW find myself, towards the close of my au
tobiography, face to face with the present day and
some of its problems. To begin with, there are
many reasons for looking upon the modern rail
road as the storm centre of political and industrial
activity. The American railroad to-day in var
ious ways and with a significance that Is unmis
takable, propounds to the people the riddle of
social and industrial progress. Private or public
ownership, which? That Is to say, private or pub
lic ownership and direction of brains, of industrial
standards, of business ideals, of Individual char
acter? In other words, democracy or socialism?
On the one hand well-regulated social, industrial,
and political freedom; on the other, social, indus
trial, and political bondage.
The situation itself on the railroads, where the
problem Is now being thought out and fought out
in all its variations, is very instructive. It abounds
with concrete illustrations. For example, do you
wish to experiment with an Invention of any kind?
Try it on the railroad. Would you like to test

THE RIDDLE OF THE RAILROADS 221
any social or Industrial reform movement? Try
it on the railroad. Would you like to know any
thing about efficiency results relating to the
"bonus" and "piece" systems? Give them a
trial on the railroads. Would you like to know
the meaning in America of private rights and
public utilities? Apply and stretch the ideas to
the breaking point and then study the problems
exhaustively on the railroads, and at their ex
pense. Do you wish to know to what extent la
bor should be permitted to dominate capital and
to establish Its own standards of wages, condi
tions, and efficiency? Just stand on one side and
watch the game. It seems to be all the same to
the spectators. Let the contestants fight these
problems out to the end on the railroad. The
raflroad exchequer, the managing department,
and the public safety are at stake. But never
mind; the backing of a few votes is sufficient to
dump anything on to the railroads for experi
mental purposes.
Now the most important and penetrating fac
tor in the railroad situation to-day is the power
of the labor union. The extent of this Industrial
power can be Illustrated by a matter-of-fact
statement, made recently to an audience In Mass
achusetts, by Chief Stone, of the Brotherhood of
Locomotive Engineers, substantially as follows:
"Practically speaking, I am not responsible to

222 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
any one. I have so much power I really don't
know what to do with it. It is simply running
over." This statement is by no means a figure of
speech. Illustrations of the nature and efficiency
of this power abound. For Instance, on July 15
of the present year representatives of fifty rail
roads east of Chicago and north of the Ohio River
met the official heads of their Locomotive Engin
eers' Unions before an arbitration commission,
at the Oriental Hotel, Manhattan Beach, in an
effort to reach a settlement of differences which
recently threatened to result in a strike that
would have paralyzed the industries of the coun
try. Increased pay, estimated at $7,500,000 per
year, and better working conditions for engin
eers were involved. In presenting the case of
the men Mr. Stone informed the commission
that "Not only are the eyes of labor and capital
watching the outcome of this hearing, but organ
ized labor the world over is waiting to learn
whether the dawn of a new era is at hand, or if we
are to take a step backward."
But whether, in the words of Mr. Stone, "or
ganized labor the world over is waiting to learn
whether the dawn of a new era is at hand, or if we
are to take a step backward," may fairly be left
to the judgment of other railroad men, more
numerous by far and not nearly so well paid as
engineers. A large and enthusiastic conference of

THE RIDDLE OF THE RAILROADS 223
these men was held in New York a short time ago.
The object of the gathering was to protest against
the extravagant demands of the engineers for
more pay, which, if granted, would place a host
of more needy and deserving men on the waiting
list, so far as any increase of pay Is concerned, for
at least five years. Those who participated In the
conference were the accredited representatives
of the station agents, signalmen, operators, signal
maintainers, etc.. In the employ of the Pennsyl
vania, Reading, New York, New Haven and Hart
ford, Boston and Maine, Boston and Albany,
Rutland, and other Eastern lines. The consen
sus of opinion at this meeting was that "before
the higher paid classes of railroad labor should
be granted any further increases from the em
ploying corporations, those employes receiving a
much lower rate of compensation, but whose faith
ful and local service is none the less important
and essential to the safe and successful conduct
of railroad property, such as carmen, signal
men, agents, operators, dispatchers, trackmen,
and the clerical forces, should receive favorable
consideration of the supervising and responsible
officials, as well as that of the investors in rail
road property."
The question of the right of way of the Grand
Trunk Railroad into New England furnishes an
other illustration of the self-centred policy and

224 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
the use of Its power by an up-to-date labor union
on American railroads. On March 10, 1912, the
Boston division of the Brotherhood of Locomo
tive Engineers unanimously voted to oppose the
entrance of the Grand Trunk Railroad into this
city, on the grounds that it will adversely affect
the conditions of railroad employes in this section
of the country. Word was received from inter
national headquarters that the Grand Trunk had
issued a notice that the wages of all train service
employes including the engineers would be cut.
This action of the Grand Trunk and the compet
itive wage ideas of the road made it undesirable
to railroad employes for the road to come here.
Consequently the Brotherhood voted to use every
honorable means to block the road's entrance into
Boston. But this labor organization, justly founded, to
begin with, to secure for the worker better con
ditions and fairer treatment, is not only found
working on principles against the interests of the
community, but it seems to-day to be placing a
ban on constituted and reasonable authority.
Just what this means to the people at large can
be clearly Illustrated by a glance at the present-
day situation on one of the most extensive and
best managed railroad systems In America. Under
date of June 15 of the present year, the Pennsyl
vania Railroad Company Issued a general notice

THE RIDDLE OF THE RAILROADS 225
to all employes, which read, in part, as follows:
"Thirty-five requests were made on this company
by its conductors, trainmen, and firemen. Twenty-
nine have either been settled satisfactorily by the
company or withdrawn by the representatives of
the men. We are now informed that a strike vote
of the employes will be taken to determine
whether or not they are willing to leave the serv
ice of the company to enforce these six remain
ing questions."
One of these unsettled issues between the men
and the company was purely a matter of disci
pline or authority. The demand of the men and
the answer of the railroad officials were as fol
lows : —
"Demand. That Englneman H. F. Krepps be
paid for time lost on account of a suspension of
ninety days imposed upon him on the charge of
low water in his engine."
"Answer. All the evidence in this case has
again been carefully considered and indicates
that our former decision Is correct, that the case
was carefully reviewed by the best experts on
this subject obtainable, and the conclusion was
that the engineer was derelict. These experts
were impartial and ex-parte. Therefore, no pay
can be allowed on account of suspension. If any
new evidence is developed, the case can be re
opened with the division officers."

226 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
The conservation of authority and discipline
on railroads is a matter in which the general
public is vitally interested. During the month
when this matter was being thrashed out there
were something like eighty passengers killed
and twice that number injured in two accidents,
and during the past year one hundred seventy-
one persons lost their lives and nine hundred
thirty-one were injured in accidents caused by
engineers running past danger signals. In fact,
the year 1912 is already unfavorably distin
guished in railroad history for disastrous collis
ions and derailments of trains. In a recent issue
of the "Railway Age Gazette" a superintendent
has described the situation that, to a great ex
tent, accounts for these accidents, as it seems to
me. In language that the public Is called upon to
consider with all seriousness.
"When you get down to the facts," he affirms,
"the superintendent is the man who bears the
main burden of responsibility. He and his train
masters stand almost, if not quite, alone in the
fight to remove 'the cause of causes' of accidents.
But we must not forget that he is surrounded by
influences which largely defeat his efforts and will
continue to do so until there is a general educa
tion of the public to the real conditions and real
responsibilities in the matter.
"First, you have the man who, backed as he

THE RIDDLE OF THE RAILROADS 227
knows by the strength of his brotherhood, be
comes slack and acquires slovenly habits of mind
instead of being wide-awake, alert, and alive to
his responsibilities while on the road.
"Second, you must not overlook the high-sal
aried general chairman of the Brotherhood Griev
ance Committee who ought to stand behind the
superintendent and assist him in his efforts to se
cure safe operation, by discipline if necessary, but
who does not. On the contrary, he is paid for and
spends nearly all of his time in relieving men of
discipline, practically without regard to the cause
of the discipline. He frequently goes to the gen
eral superintendent or general manager and in
dicates that certain superintendents and certain
trainmasters are not fair to their men and impose
discipline when the men are not at fault.
"Third, we have the general superintendent or
general manager, who (perhaps naturally), see
ing the shadow of the great power of the Brother
hood behind the general chairman, listens to his
story and not infrequently forms an opinion that
this or that superintendent is unpopular with his
men. I do not mean to say that the superintend
ent is always right, but I do mean to say that his
efforts toward securing safe operation are largely
defeated by the labor organizations which, by the
efforts of the general chairman, are frequently
able to have good discipline nullified, I also mean

228 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
to say that the general chairmen frequently inti
mate or openly say that they will take cases in
dispute higher and have the superintendent's de
cision reversed when the decision of the superin
tendent is absolutely proper. Also, it may be
added that they are usually successful when this
is done. The large number of cases carried over
the superintendent's head is sufficient proof of
the fact that the activity of general chairmen and
the influence of the brotherhoods are very Import
ant factors working against safe operation.
"Fourth, we have the public, always ready to
criticize and rarely to commend, in whose eye the
conductor is a semi-hero and the engineer a real,
dyed-in-the-wool hero, who 'sticks to his post.'
As a general proposition, I believe it may be
safely said, the public stands behind the man or
the labor organization and against the railway
corporation in the case of controversy or accident.
"All of these are unhealthy conditions, and we
shall continue to have accidents as long as they
exist. Automatic block signals and automatic
stops will not stop them. It is my humble opin
ion that they will not cease to exist until the pub
lic becomes sufficiently educated to forget all the
sentimental twaddle about the englneman or the
conductor being a hero, and begins to look on
them in a natural way as plain, ordinary men who
have plain, simple duties to perform and no ex-

THE RIDDLE OF THE RAILROADS 229
cuse for not performing them. Further, the pub
lic must get in behind the superintendent and
back him up in his efforts to secure safety. The
other things will then take care of themselves.
"If I have written in plain language It is also
because I am interested. All the hand signals,
block signal systems, cab signals, automatic
stops, safety trips, or other devices you would
place on the railway right-of-way will not accom
plish a fraction of one per cent of what public edu
cation and opinion may do to remove 'the cause
of causes.'" n
But while the accident situation in the riddle
of the railroads demands the earnest considera
tion of the people at large, there are also financial
and industrial problems that are pressing for solu
tion. The demands of the enginemen for increased
wages and better conditions, which has already
been referred to in this chapter, is a typical case
in point. On the Boston and Maine Railroad, for
example, the new scale, as proposed, would cost
$300,000 a year, and last year the road only
earned that amount above legitimate expenses and
indebtedness. If similar increases for other em
ployes were added, and this, of course, is inevi
table. It would mean that the Boston and Maine
would not be able to meet the interest on its bonds.

230 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
and would be about $1,000,000 short of enough to
pay the rental of leased hnes. According to this
understanding this would mean that the system
would have to disintegrate.
But from the people's standpoint there are
other features connected with the demands of
enginemen that are still more important. Neither
industrial peace nor a solution of the wage
problem is in sight, whatever these arbitrators
may see fit to conclude in such matters. If the
arbitrators should grant every demand of the
employes, will they, the employes, be satisfied?
At the end of a year or two there Is no doubt,
based on previous experience, that this country
would again be confronted with a crisis. It is a
great pity that the public should be alarmed in
this way every three or four months and that the
railways and the employes should be required to
go to this expense and loss of time and never dis
cover a process of settlement.
The power invested in labor leaders, with the
absence of responsibility, is alarming. While
they have the vote and endorsement of the men
they represent, yet the moving spirit is the leader.
In the past five years, for example, the Erie Rail
road Company has received five strike votes.
The leader in charge claimed he had the power
to stop the highways of this country, and ex
pressed his intention to exercise this prerogative

THE RIDDLE OF THE RAILROADS 231
of labor. To appreciate the gravity of this situa
tion let us imagine any other individual — a
president of a railway, or its directors, assuming
to stop the public highways for any reason and
deprive forty to fifty millions of citizens of the
necessities of life! There is no law to cover the
action or determine the responsibility of the labor
leaders who possess this great power, and who
have repeatedly stated their intention to exer
cise it. The best test of their power is for the
general public to attempt to pass a federal law to
place responsibility upon organized labor en
gaged in interstate traffic. If the common car
riers are responsible to the public, as operating
agents, why should not employes, organized or
otherwise, be held responsible to some extent to
perform their duties to the public, as part of the
complete transportation organization? Organ
ized labor appears to resent every effort to apply
responsibility. Doubtless the enginemen are engaged in a very
laudable desire to secure an Increase In their com
pensation, but the inability to pay was clearly
explained to them. Such evidence, however, was
not effective, and it Is regretted that one of the
strongest and most Intelligent of organizations
is not influenced by the financial condition which
is essential to a proper solution of Industrial
problems. A president of a strong labor organi-

232 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
zation, within a year requesting a substantial
Increase, was asked by the committee whether
he had considered the ability of the railways to
pay, and where the money was to come from; he
replied that he was not a financier and really did
not know, and yet he had the power to stop
the wheels on every railway in the United
States. In the opinion of the writer it is proper to regu
late the common carrier, but it is equally essen
tial to regulate labor organizations engaged in
public transportation. Organized labor is an in
stitution, and. In the conduct of quasi-public
properties. It should share In public regulation to
the same general extent, now, or in the future,
exercised over transportation. The proper treat
ment of conditions such as these is manifestly
the regulation of labor unions by the Govern
ment and the recognition, by public opinion, that
In a majority of cases a labor union is an associa
tion of men or women dealing in an actual pro
duct and organized for profit.
To complicate the riddle of the railroads, how
ever, just when managers and men are trying to
work out a reasonable and satisfactory modus
vIvendi, the scientific engineer appears on the
scene. As I look at It this feature of the riddle
of the railroads to-day is most peculiar. It is a
strong masterful situation, a climbing, struggling.

THE RIDDLE OF THE RAILROADS 233
hopeful situation teeming with human problems
of tremendous importance, which are being
worked out in a surprising way by certain forces
that have never before had the handling of affairs
in the world's history.
However, connected with betterment work of
every description in a democratic country, there
are always certain drawbacks and issues relating
to the wishes and conduct of individuals and
workers that wait for consideration and solution
at every stage of the game. In this way, and very
naturally, the problems relating to scientific
management on railroads call for a careful scru
tiny of the conditions and the men to which our
scientific principles are to be applied.
As a matter of fact, then, on the railroads to
day, the principal factor with which the scientific
engineer has to deal is the employe. It Is becom
ing more and more apparent to those who are
carefully watching the trend of affairs in the rail
road world that the responsibility for peaceful
or violent readjustment of railway conditions In
the future will, and must, rest with these wage
earners. And as far as I can make out, these em
ployes do not wish to have anything to do with
scientific experiments In regard to their pay-rolls
and their conditions. This is actually the individ
ual and collective decision of labor on the subject.
The way the two forces, labor and management.

234 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
line up on the matter is somewhat as follows:
Scientific management says to the employe :
"Look here, I am running this business and I
have worked out and drawn up a scientific sched
ule. I propose to standardize conditions, opera
tions, and pay-roll. By this method better work,
better wages and, withal, a true economic sys
tem of operation can be assured all around. I
would like to secure your co-operation in the mat
ter. Your job is now going to pay a wage in a
general way, according to the brains and energy
you put into it."
On the other hand the employe retorts : —
"To begin with," he says, "I am not so sure
about your position. In fact, I come pretty near
running a good share of this business myself. So
I may as well tell you right off, that this job is
going to pay me not exactly what I put into it,
but just as much as by hook or by crook I can get
out of it."
Of course It is easy enough for scientific people
to suggest all sorts of economies and improve
ments. But the labor interest is a tremendous
force on the railroad nowadays, and at all costs
it must get along harmoniously with the manage
ment. In butting In and forcing the situation, and
in trying to hold the modern manager up to pub
lic censure on account of his unscientific methods
in spots and places public opinion is doing more

THE RIDDLE OF THE RAILROADS 235
harm than good. And by the way, what Is the
rest of the world doing all this time along the
same lines? Have they, too, got the scientific bug
in their bonnets? Not a bit of it. As a matter of
fact, for a number of years past the railroad em
ploye, whom we now propose to doctor in this
way, has been systematically pillaged and abused
by outside forces in no way connected with the
railroads that have no desire to be scientifically
treated themselves. I am not one of those who
believe in unnecessary muckraking, or In the rat
tling of dead bones, but the employe must not be
deprived of his illustration, especially when evils
still exist perhaps In modified form. So address^
ing himself to public opinion he remarks, "What
do you think of a sum of nine thousand dollars
awarded to the widow of a railroad man, whit
tled down to three thousand before she even
got a peck at it?" I suppose public opinion
would be still more emphatically shocked If
I were to insinuate that even In a single instance
in the confusion of a railroad wreck an arm has
been deliberately and intentionally amputated
instead of a finger on account of the extra re
muneration attached to it. Is this scientific treat
ment? But railroad labor is not satisfied with cloth
ing its arguments in figurative language. The
more he thinks it over and studies the problem

236 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
of economy in railroad work, the less he cares for
the overtures of the scientific engineer. Of course
It is too bad, and science and efficiency are sur
prised, almost sorrowful, when, in spite of all its
plans and promises, labor remarks as Hamlet did
to Opheha, "I love you not," and the response
in both cases is, "I was the more deceived."
Be this as it may, the employe on the railroad
to-day has also a solid background of business
advantage already secured which, in its present
stage, the public may not exactly like, but never
theless, the illustration I am about to give you
will at least demonstrate the practical and finan
cial reasons why the railroad man interposes ob
jections to scientific treatment.
For instance, some time ago I myself was
called upon to work just one hour and a half be
fore my regular time to appear on the job —
I got an extra day's pay for this hour and a half.
The schedule arranges this. Is there any likeli
hood that scientific management will treat me
any better? Again, I have In mind a certain train
crew that works in a locality where there Is
switching to be done all day long between widely
separated side tracks and Industrial plants. Two
or three times a week, on an average, this crew
are called upon to drop their work and take a
little trip a mile or two away from their regular
stamping ground. When this happens they get

THE RIDDLE OF THE RAILROADS 237
an extra day's pay for the work, although it
comes easily within the time of the stipulated
day's work.
The railroad business is honeycombed with
illustrations of this nature going to show that the
railroad man's schedule has scientific manage
ment beaten out of sight — considered as a finan
cial attraction to the railroad man.
Just a word or two about the manager's side of
the problem. In answering the call of the ef
ficiency engineer to apply scientific methods to
railroad work, the very first consideration in the
mind of the manager Is the employe. To tell the
truth, the railroad man is a proposition the rail
road manager cannot dodge. The position and
prospects of the railroad men were voiced very
distinctly at a mass meeting of employes held In
Boston some time ago. The remarks of one of
the principal speakers were as follows : —
"It Is the combined labor of thousands and
thousands of workers that makes it possible to
run a railroad. We stand on the industrial battle
field with nothing but our labor to sell, and we
must have organization to say what pay we shall
receive and what conditions we will work under.
"It Is my contention," the speaker continued,
"that we must reach the stage sometime when
every one employed on a railroad will belong to a
union, and all the unions to one federation or

238 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
brotherhood of railroad employes. When that
day comes we will not need the injunction nor
fear it. We can call out every man on the rail
road unless our just demands are granted."
In applying Industrial efficiency to the rail
roads this efficiency engineer has an awful job on
his hands. Strange as it may seem, his principal
opponents are the railroad managers and the rail
road men. The manager's position Is easily under
stood. For the manager on the railroad is the ex
pediency engineer. All problems and issues are
in his pigeon holes. Of all things he, too, desires
efficiency of service and so far as possible the ap
plication of scientific principles. But as a matter
of fact his desires and opinions in this particular
matter cut very little figure. Amidst all the
babel of divers scientific propaganda and the no
less Insistent demands and threats of organized
labor, he Is called upon to hold the reins in the
interests of the whole people. Out of a caldron
of industrial and political interests and factions
on the railroad he must pluck by hook or by
crook, in some way, the flower of satisfactory
service. It is unnecessary to multiply illustrations
showing the all-around benefits to be derived
from the application of scientific principles to
railroad work. Only give the efficiency engineer
and the scientific manager half a chance and they

THE RIDDLE OF THE RAILROADS 239
will simply overwhelm you with facts and figures,
the truth and practical utility of which no man
in his senses will attempt to gainsay. But un
fortunately for the application of scientific prin
ciples to railroad work, the problem at the present
day, as I think I have demonstrated, is sur
rounded by an industrial situation to which, as I
look at it, all other issues are just now subordin
ate. In other words, the real problem for the
manager to-day is not how to run his business
upon the most economical and scientific prin
ciples, but actually and practically how to run it
at all. m
But there are political as well as industrial com
plications in this riddle of the railroads. Just how
the politicians go to work in such matters would
be rather amusing if the methods pursued were
not so peculiar. I have in mind a legislative ses
sion in Texas a few years ago, when the railroads
were quietly Informed by the politicians that
their constituents would require them to show
results In the form of anti-railroad legislation.
That was all there was to it. What followed was
simply a surgical operation performed on the
railroad with the politician as the "sawbones."
No specific shortcomings on the part of the rail
road were even hinted at. On the part of public

240 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST

opinion It was simply an appetite; on the part of
the politician it was simply a job.
An up-to-date illustration will enable us to un
derstand something about this politically influ
enced public opinion and Its unfair treatment of
railroad management and railroad employes.
On August 8 of the present year, a passenger train
on the New York, New Haven and Hartford
Railroad was derailed near the Crescent Avenue
Station, South Boston. Seven persons were
killed and fifty-four were injured. The train was
running about thirty -five miles an hour when the
engine jumped the track, and, after bumping
along the ties for a short distance, shot over the
edge of a ten-foot embankment. The three pass
enger cars followed the engine. It was impossi
ble at the time, at any rate, to account for the
derailment of this train. Henry W. Seward, the
state railroad Inspector, visited and examined the
premises, and forthwith, according to reports in
the newspapers, volunteered the following state
ment: "I arrived at the scene of the wreck at 1.15
this afternoon. I looked for something that might
have dropped, but found nothing. The roadbed
seemed all right. The engine Is a heap of scrap
and I cannot tell the cause until that is re
moved. I do not think the speed could have
caused the derailment. I should say that sixty
miles an hour would not have been excessive

THE RIDDLE OF THE RAILROADS 241
speed, as the rails are heavy. We shall make a
careful investigation and report the cause when
ascertained. I could not even guess the cause at
present." The division superintendent, F. S. Hobbs, said
with reference to the derailment: "Something
may have dropped. The train was on time. We
are not limited as to speed, and forty miles is not
excessive. The cause is not known and will not
be known until I have heard the experts and ex
amined the evidence. To-morrow at ten In the
morning I will have a hearing on the cause of the
wreck." These reports are, under the circumstances,
both reasonable and businesslike. But the de
railment and its cause which was so puzzling to
experienced Government Inspectors and railroad
men was no mystery at all to Boston politicians.
The Mayor of Boston, for example, was quoted
In the newspapers word for word as follows:
"From the condition of the rails and roadbed, the
thing looks almost criminal. If anybody was sup
posed to Inspect this place and allowed this state
of affairs to exist, something should be done. If
there is no official inspection, the sooner a law is
passed compelling one, the better for all con
cerned. To me the track looked as if it had not
been properly built. I was glad the police, under
Chief Inspector McGarr, started immediately

242 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
after the accident to make a thorough investiga
tion. To them I pointed out that it looked as if
the foundations holding the sleepers were not as
strong as they should be. It was a bad-looking
piece of track, with the gravel loosely thrown
against the ties. I asked the police inspectors to
notice that fact and they did so, and had photo
graphs made. I believe it is high time that a
more rigid inspection be made regularly of the
condition of the tracks of all the railroads through
out the state. The lives of the hundreds of thou
sands of people who daily ride on the railroads
of the country must be protected."
Then again the Medical Examiner who per
formed an autopsy on the bodies of the victims
was quoted by the reporters, as follows: "We
found nothing to indicate that there was any
thing wrong with the engine, the brakes, or the
equipment, but. In my opinion, the train was
running at a high rate of speed and took the curve
too fast." He probably arrived at this conclusion
from a scrutiny of the wreckage.
Hard on the heels of the fast-running theory of
the Medical Examiner came additional light on
the matter from the manager of the Boston Fire
Patrol. He disagreed with the Mayor and the
Medical Examiner. In his opinion, "the eleva
tion of the rails on the curve was faulty." He was
able to detect this fact at a glance. The raflroad

THE RIDDLE OF THE RAILROADS 213
engineers and trackmen, on the other hand, are
not gifted In this way. The actual measurements,
made by these men, tell a different story.
Meanwhile, under such a hail of criticism from
the lips of the Ignorant yet highly responsible
men, it is little to be wondered at that the public
acquires erroneous ideas about roadbeds, about
the employes who build them, and the officials
who supervise the work. Public opinion. It is
true, should have a say In the matter, but all poli
tical and semi-political attempts to misinform
the public In regard to these railroad accidents,
before they have been properly and officially in
vestigated, should be outspokenly condemned by
right-thinking people. Notoriety acquired in this
way, at the expense of roadmasters and section-
men, is of the cheapest description. For, after all,
it must be remembered that these roadbeds and
tracks are in charge of section foremen who in
spect them daily and are responsible for their
condition. It will take a wiser man than the aver
age politician to tell these foremen anything they
do not already know about their sections or their
business. The condition, position, and length of
service of every rail and tie on this section is
known to this foreman. There are at least four
hundred thousand section workers, and over
forty-five thousand section foremen on American
railroads to-day. These men are just as jealous

244 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
of their good names and of the reputation of their
work, and a little more so, I think, than any other
body of workers in the country. They certainly
deserve more appreciation than the average, and
receive a good deal less. Not only is this true,
but, in my opinion, this track-work which I am
now discussing Is probably the very strongest and
best feature in all the realm of railroad labor at
the present day, and the impressions on the sub
ject, expressed and published in the dally press,
by politicians and others at the time of the late
accident on the New Haven Railroad, were, in
my opinion, very unfair to the workers who had
charge of these roadbeds. The track-service, at
any rate, is not yet vitiated by political influence,
undermined altogether by the seniority rule, nor
stupefied by the "bumping process."
Just at this time It will be well for the public to
read a little about the duties and responsibil
ities of these track- workers. Man for man they
actually do twice as much work, both with head
and hand, as engine men or trainmen, and they re
ceive only a fraction as much pay or appreciation.
The section foreman is, to begin with, timekeeper
for himself and his men. He is responsible for the
safety of tracks, switches, waterways, crossings,
and In many cases for switch and semaphore
lamps on his section. He Is responsible for track
repairs and for emergency repairs to telegraph

THE RIDDLE OF THE RAILROADS 245
lines, bridges, and culverts, signals and interlock
ing; for the safe conduct of his men and car over
main tracks without any safeguard in the way of
train orders. He must know the time of arrival
and departure of all regular trains and whether
or not they are running late, timing his work ac
cordingly. He must be as familiar with the flag
ging rules as are the trainmen and enginemen. He
must effectively police the company's property
against all acts of trespass and vandalism without
any real police power. He is responsible for the
proper care and appearance of the permanent way
and the fences inclosing It. He must deal, as the
company's representative, with adjacent pro
perty owners. He has more than a hundred other
duties to be found In detail in the rule books.
The work of the ordinary section-hand Is not a
bit less honorable or painstaking. I have In mind
a typical Illustration. This man's first job in
the morning and the last at night was track- walk
ing. During many years of my service in the
switch tower, he was a frequent visitor during
the night-time. It must not be supposed that he
was called out or paid overtime for this service.
The fact is he worked instinctively and the job
was on his mind. The pattering of the rain or the
falling of the snowflake was all the calling he re
ceived. In such cases he got up, came down to
the tower, put his head In at the door, and simply

246 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
said to the towerman, "How's everything?"
And then, if it happened to be towards morning,
he would take his shovel or his wrench, according
to the weather, and sally out on his usual tour of
Inspection. The track-walker on a railroad is the eye of
the foreman. It Is a position of the greatest re
sponsibility. The man must be posted on the
time-table and the book of rules. As he walks
along he Is on the lookout for fires of every de
scription. His business Is to hunt up, and recog
nize, at once, a dangerous condition of track or
roadbed. He carefully scrutinizes rails, switches,
and frogs for breaks, or even Indication of flaws.
As he proceeds, he tightens a bolt at one place,
knocks in a spike at another, or, perhaps, with
his shovel, he guides a stream of water away from
the tracks and into its proper channel. At the
same time his eye and mind have business to at
tend to aloft and on every side. He must take
note of the working condition of signals and in
dicators on his section. There are also a score of
posts and sign-boards, every one of which has a
mission of safety or warning. Above all, there is
the "bridge guard," a matter of vital Importance
to trainmen. This gives one a pretty good Idea of
the track-walker's practical value to the railroad,
and to the community.
Track-work on the New Haven and Boston

THE RIDDLE OF THE RAILROADS 247
and Maine Railroads, so far as my experience. In
vestigation, and knowledge goes, is done on honor.
This is the kind of service that the public and the
railroad corporations are getting from the men
who have charge of and do the work on these
roadbeds. In criticizing the work on these road
beds the Mayor of Boston calls for an increase
in the number of Government inspectors. In
spection is all very well but it does not go to the
root of the problem. In my opinion, the probable
cause of the derailment of the train at South Bos
ton, and of many other mysterious fatalities that
occur at intervals all over the country Is of a dif
ferent nature altogether, and only a short time
ago the Mayor of Boston, in a letter addressed to
ministers and others in the community, called at
tention. In a very specific manner, to the real
issue. The letter to which I refer is as follows : —
"Reverend Dear Sir, — ¦ Complaints of dis
orderly conduct on the part of young boys from
twelve to eighteen years of age are constantly re
ceived at this office. Some of the playgrounds of
the city have proved to be detriments rather
than blessings, particularly at night, to the dis
tricts In which they are situated on account of the
opportunities they afford as gathering-places
for youthful mischief-makers. The police seem
to be unable to cope with this evil, which is so

248 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
pervasive and insidious that It appears to be the
symptom of some general condition or disease.
I am reluctant, however, to believe that the
youths of this generation, so attractive in other
respects, are less amenable to discipline than
their fathers were. I should suppose that if the
cause of these disorders could be ascertained It
would be easy to apply a remedy. Among the
causes that are commonly given Is the weakening
of parental authority and the consequent spirit
of irreverence, manifestations of which are only
too commonly observed. May I suggest that this
phase of the subject might be appropriately
treated In one of your Sunday discourses, so that
the parents of these young people may be awak
ened to a sense of their responsibilities. I am sure
the public would regard this as a proper exercise
of your spiritual authority and service to the
community. Yours respectfully,
John F. Fitzgerald, Mayor."
Now the interests of the traveling public de
mand that this matter should be handled without
gloves. In his letter the Mayor of Boston Informs
us that the police are unable to cope with this
problem of lawless behavior. My personal expe
rience and knowledge, however, so far as rail
roads and railroad property are concerned.

THE RIDDLE OF THE RAILROADS 249
prompt me to assert that turning the difficulty
over to the churches to wrestle with is simply a
method of avoiding political responsibility.
For many years I have watched and studied
the behavior of these gangs of hoodlums and
other trespassers on railroad property. On the
Fitchburg division of the Boston and Maine Rail
road, for example, the tracks between Waltham
and Boston, especially on Sunday and holidays,
are a public thoroughfare. During the summer
months the trains bring these trespassers out
from the city In squads, and they no sooner get
off at a station than they begin their skylarking.
It is impossible for the railroad police, single-
handed, to cover the territory. They need the
assistance of public opinion and the civil author
ities, and they do not get it. When the railroad
people and the authorities fail to account for the
derailment of a train, it Is safe to say these tres
passers know something about it.
During many years of service on the railroads
I have been aware of the mischief-making of these
hoodlums, smashing signal and switch lamps and
twisting the signal wires, causing false indications
of semaphores. But they do not content them
selves with throwing stones and twisting wires;
they also place obstructions of every conceivable
description in the frogs and on the rails. Time was
when sectionmen and others made efforts to warn

250 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST \
these trespassers, and, when possible, to head
them off. We know better now. AU kinds of
"scraps" arose in this way, on and off the rail
road tracks, and after one or two instances when
sectionmen were flned in the police courts for
assault, and permitted to pay the fine out of
their slender wages, a general policy of "hands
off" was adopted.
If this state of affairs does not point specific
ally to the derailment of the passenger train at
South Boston, it certainly does to scores of other
happenings of a similar nature all over the coun
try. The facts In the case, as I have described
them, are written in the records of every railroad
in the country. The railroad authorities are con
tinually investigating such cases. And this Is the
situation, and these are the conditions which
Mayor Fitzgerald invites the churches to rectify.
But the dangerous hoodlum is only one phase
of the trespass situation in the riddle of the rail
roads. Trespassing on railroad property is a
national affair of tremendous importance. A
disaster like that to the steamship Titanic very
naturally gives rise to widespread sorrow and
indignation. And yet this is just what Is happen
ing on the railroads, in the aggregate of fatalities,
every two or three months, year in and year out,
by reason of trespassing. The railroads, in one
way and another, are doing what they can to

THE RIDDLE OF THE RAILROADS 251
direct the attention of the general public to this
matter, but if the present type of politician is to
be left alone to handle the business, the prospect
for betterment is not very bright.
A report on the general subject of trespassing
has recently been Issued by the Pennsylvania
Railroad Company. Its police department, dur
ing the year 1911, spent more than one hundred
thousand dollars in its campaign against tres
passing, or nearly one fifth of the total cost of
maintaining the company's force. In the efforts
of the company's agents to enlighten the public
on this subject and to enlist the interest of magis
trates and other local officers, attention Is being
given more especially to these trespassers who are
not to be classed as tramps — well-meaning peo
ple who use the railway tracks as thoroughfares.
In this statement on this subject which has been
given out by the company, it is said that on
American railways in the fiscal year ending June
30, 1911, the number of trespassers killed was
5,284 and the number Injured was 5,614. In
fact, there are more people killed in this way on
the raihoads than from all other causes com
bined. At a meeting of the American Railway Asso
ciation, held in New York City, May 15, 1912, the
following resolution was unanimously adopted:
"That the executive committee of this Asso-

252 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
elation is hereby requested to confer directly
with the proper authorities of the National Gov
ernment, with a view to determine what steps
can and should be taken to educate the public
regarding the danger and results of trespassing
on railroad property and regarding the steps,
whether in the form of legislation or otherwise,
that should be taken to stop this practice, which
in ten years ending January 30, 1911, cost the
lives of 50,708 people in the United States."
The following table gives one a good idea of
the frequency of unexplained derailments of
trains compared with derailments from all other
causes. It is an official report of the most notable
train derailments that occurred on the railways
of the United States for the month of August,
1912. Unx. signifies unexplained.

DERAILMENTS

CAUSE OP
KIND OF
DATE BOAD
FLACB
DEBAIIJdENT
THAIM
EILUED
INJUBEO
4
Rutland
Bangor, N. Y.
Dnx.
P.
0
U
7
Virginia & S. W.
St. Charles
Unx.
F.
3
0
8
N.Y.N.H.&H.
Dorchester
Unx.
P.
7
Bi
9
Mobile & 0.
Sparta, 111.
B. rail
P.
0
35
10
St. Louis & S. F.
Rogers, Ark.
Unx.
P.
1
6
12
C. M. & Puget S.
Eeeehelua
Unx.
P.
S
6
17
Penn.
Middle Pt.
Unx.
P.
0
7
18
Acth. T. & S. F.
Osage City
D. switch
P.
0
17
19
Southern
Lenoir City
Uni.
P.
0
1
19
Boston & Maine
Lakeport
Unx.
P.
0
2
19
Texas & Pacific
Mineola
B. rail
P.
0
2
31
Yazoo & M. V.
Roxie
Unx.
P.
0
5
25
Cin. H. & D.
Antioch
Unx.
P.
1
15
30
Mo. Kan. & Tex.
Temple, Tei.
Unx.
P.
1
17
30
Penn.
Conway
Ace. obst.
P.
Totals
5
23
19
19.9
THE RIDDLE OF THE RAILROADS 253
In my opinion, the trespasser on railroad pro
perty hangs, Uke a shadow, over these unex
plained accidents.
Finally, in summing up the situation on rail
roads. If the public would like to know how long
private money, on the one hand, and Industrial
and political foolery, on the other, are likely,
under these conditions, to continue in partner
ship, all they have to do is to study this riddle of
progress on American railroads. The people will
certainly get an answer to the riddle before long.
In the mythological story the solving of the riddle
entailed the death of the Sphinx. From present
indications the American railroads may reason
ably expect a similar fate. If public opinion is
willing simply to look on while all these different
forces are fighting for their own ideas and prin
ciples, at the expense of the Government and
efficiency of the railroad business, the answer to
the riddle of the railroads will be — national
ownership. In the opinion of some of us, perhaps
of most of us, this last state will be worse than
the first. To tell the truth. Government owner
ship of railroads is to be opposed, not so much
for the effect it would have on the railroads, but
on account of the results to the Government and
to the nation. There is much less danger, how
ever, that the general public will demand public
ownership of railroads and the taking of railroad

254 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
property by the Federal Government than there
is that the representatives and large owners of
railroad property will become tired of annoyance,
interference, political tyranny, and over-regula
tion of profits, and that they will play into the
hands of the Government and themselves seek to
bring it about.
Standing on one side, as it were, without any
political or industrial affiliations to interfere with
my diagnosis, I have attempted to describe in the
foregqlng chapters some of the problems in the
present riddle of affairs on American railroads.

IX
LET INDUSTRY BE FREE

It has been well said that there is no other way
of accomplishing things than by work, whether It
takes the form of intellectual activity or manual
toil. The man to be pitied Is the idler. The person
who has work to do and does it Is to be envied.
The idler gets what Is coming to him — and that
is nothing. The United States of America stands
for individual effort and self-reliance. This is
particularly true of New England. It would be an
unfortunate thing for us if we all became merged
into one mammoth society with individualism
suppressed and personal initiative and effort dis
couraged. This might be socialism, but it would
not be individual happiness. It is much better to
preach the doctrine of the necessity of labor for
the attainment of happiness and for the securing
of contentment. These opinions and sentiments
constitute, in a wide sense, the doctrine of indi
vidualism in modern society and in the mind of
the individualist next to labor itself comes the

256 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
problem of opportunity to be useful, in this way,
to one's self and to the community.
Industry, however, is a matter of capital as well
as of labor. Capital, as well as labor, is useful and
necessary. As it seems to me, it is difficult to over
estimate the debt of the nation to the far-seeing
policy of some of its capitalists. It is not a very
popular topic, but it has its educational features,
and from the standpoint of the individualist it is
worth considering. I propose to say a few words
on the subject from an unusual point of view.
Certainly one of the most astonishing features
of modern civilization is the influence, both for
good and evil, of the ordinary axiom, which, under
our present strenuous conditions is permitted only
too often to degenerate into a mere catch-phrase.
An axiom, of course, is a self-evident truth, which
is taken for granted as the basis of reasoning.
Nowadays as soon as one of these high sounding
catch-phrases succeeds in arresting attention and
establishing itself in popular favor, it at once pro
ceeds to dominate the situation. In social and
industrial matters nowadays, nearly all problems
are submitted to the test of these popular catch-
phrases. If the progress in connection with these
problems is in line with and recognizes the truth
of the catch-phrase the situation Is supposed to be
sound, otherwise, it is considered with the great
est suspicion. Perhaps the most overworked of all

LET INDUSTRY BE FREE 257
the catch-phrases that are now being exploited by
public opinion is the term a "public utility." As
a matter of fact, it Is difficult for the everyday,
unprejudiced mind to distinguish between a rail
road, a politician, and a potato, so far as their
public utility Is concerned. They all seem to be
equally Indispensable. Connected with them all,
with the potato, the politician, and the railroad
business, there are certain public Interests which
it becomes the duty of the National Government
to care for and regulate. It stands to reason if. In
the past, the government of a city or a state has
looked upon a franchise or a monopoly as a gift, it
has been sadly lacking In business acumen in giv
ing them away. But, in fact, there were nearly
always enormous financial risks which, in the
building and organizing stage, the givers of the
franchise were afraid to shoulder. Once on a pay
ing basis, however, the franchise is called upon to
develop In a different atmosphere.
Let us take an illustration from the state of
Oklahoma. Not so long ago the territory was a
comparative wilderness, but in the end its oppor
tunity and time came. Of course the first appeal
of a rising and energetic community is for capital
to start and develop its Industries and for rail
roads for transportation purposes. Only a year or
two ago there were several towns In Oklahoma
which were offering from forty to fifty thousand

258 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
dollars to secure railroads from fifty to one hun
dred miles in length. People somehow and some
where must actually have put their hands in their
pockets to provide these facilities. So far as pro
viding the money and taking the risks connected
with it were concerned, this financial opportunity
in Oklahoma was open to all the world. So people
of enterprise and courage, people of small means
and large resources, came forward with the funds
and put the young state on its feet. These pri
vately owned railroads in Oklahoma were made
possible by the efforts and good-will of men and
women who had faith in Oklahoma, and to these
people, in a large measure, Oklahoma owes her
present prosperity. Borrowing the language of a
writer who has studied the situation at first hand
and on the spot, these privately built lines "car
ried the raw material, the men and the capital to
establish a territory which has, through these
same agencies, blossomed Into a flourishing com
monwealth, in which the whistle of the locomotive
has supplanted the howl of the coyote, and pros
perous cities, towns, and farms have banished the
loneliness of the once desolate prairies."
But now during the construction periods in
Oklahoma and elsewhere, the radical reformer,
the political demagogue, and the man with the
socialistic ache, were not, to any extent. In evi
dence. The popular slogan was railroads at any

LET INDUSTRY BE FREE 259
price, and popular enthusiasm always leaves
debts and obligations in its rear. The people who
were calling for railroads in those days, regardless
of obstacles and expense, spent very little time in
trying to arrive at a philosophical Interpretation
of a "public utility," and they troubled them
selves still less about the economical anatomy of
"special privileges." The railroad of the past,
with all its sins, was the product of this state of
public sentiment on the subject. But with the
advent of prosperity and of a population which
took no part in the original risks, or shared In the
original expenditure, the situation In Oklahoma,
and elsewhere, has changed. With the assistance
of these people, public opinion in Oklahoma, for
example, is preparing to repudiate its original
bargain. It now complacently awakens to the
fact that a railroad Is a "public utility," to which
are attached all sorts of "special privileges,"
which those who built the railroads are now actu
ally turning into dollars and cents to the tune. In
some cases, of from four to six per cent on their
cash Investments. This, of course, will never do.
The railroads have been secured and prosperity
has followed them, and the problem now is to de
fine a "public utility" In terms that will enable
the politician to uproot most of the special priv
ileges connected with them.
Again, we frequently hear the term "water"

260 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
applied to railroads or railroad stock. To hear
some people talk, one would think it only on a
railroad where this kind of financial liquid Is to be
found. Generally speaking, of course, "water" is
a fictitious value which Is not a part of the capital
invested In the railroad. So Is the good-will of any
business for that matter. It is up to the purchaser
to guess what they are severally worth. An eight
P.M. edition of a newspaper on the streets at noon,
has also a fictitious value. But, as a matter of
fact, on the railroads this "water" frequently
means more money for people outside the railroad
than within. It was the prospect of this increased
value, that is to say, a sort of good-will that was
reflected for miles around every railroad, that
made the building of most railroads possible.
Ex-president Roosevelt says in one of his edi
torials in "The Outlook": "As regards these big
corporations every dollar received should repre
sent a dollar's worth of service rendered; not
gambling in stocks, but service rendered."
There seems to be only one side to this philo
sophy. Two dollars' worth of service for one dollar
received is the other side of the consideration.
For example, the advent of the Kansas City
Southern Railroad, it has been said, enabled fifty
thousand people to find employment in mills,
forests, and stores. The average wage of these
people was said to be two dollars per diem. Here

LET INDUSTRY BE FREE 261
is one hundred thousand dollars a day increase In
the earning capacity of American men. I am not
by any means an apologist for stock gambling of
any kind. So far as the railroads are concerned
"water" has had its day and its uses.
Another familiar catch-phrase which has a good
deal to do with capital and labor is "Equality of
opportunity." Some time ago Ex-president
Roosevelt, In an editorial in "The Outlook," took
the following stand on the subject: —
"We take the view," he wrote, "that our gov
ernment is intended to provide equality of oppor
tunity for all men, so far as wise human action can
provide it; for the object of government by the
people is the welfare of the people."
To begin with, this declaration of Mr. Roose
velt does not contain a suspicion or a hint of the
practical difficulties connected with it. As a mat
ter of fact, opportunity is one thing, and equality
of opportunity is a different affair altogether.
Opportunity has, at all times, a practical working
basis; equality of opportunity is a sort of political
invention that has the effect, if not the design, of
educating the people to the idea that equality is a
fundamental of progress, which idea, of course,
leads to all sorts of schemes for the mere mechani
cal and legislative division of property. For, after
all, these catch-phrases must not be taken at their
face meaning or value. Practically speaking, they

262 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
represent the significance applied to them by
politicians for political purposes. On the whole,
then, equality of opportunity must be looked
upon as a slippery and a dangerous formula which
should, at all times, be prescribed with extreme
caution and hesitation. In the political life of the
day it Is used as a text by means of which the
people are being notified that the reformers have
discovered a new principle of progress, apart from
and superior to the clashing of inequalities, which,
in matters great and small, is cosmic and eternal.
On the flimsy and unreal foundation of this popu
lar catch-phrase all sorts of social and industrial
iniquities are creeping into the body politic, such
as wholesale interference with management on
railroads, the leveling process and the seniority
rule, and In general all sorts of spoliation theories,
aimed by politicians indiscriminately at the suc
cessful, the Industrious, and the rich. Correctly
Interpreted, of course, equality of opportunity
refers to educational, political, and industrial
facilities and privileges. Applied to the raihoads
it simply, and properly, means that the corpora
tions of the country should be so regulated as to
prevent discrimination or Injustice to the public,
giving equal and fair treatment to all, with favor
itism to none. But so long as men are born in
different places, with differing faces and differing
physical and mental advantages, even equality of

LET INDUSTRY BE FREE 263
opportunity will not really equalize matters. But
taking it for granted that equality of opportunity
Is to be looked upon as one of the fundamentals of
progressive civilization, what an astounding way
society, at the present day, has of putting this
ideal into practical form and of manifesting its
"wise human action."
For example, the County Court of Jackson
County, Missouri, has officially declared that only
union labor shall be employed in doing county
work, and the ruling goes to the extent of pre
scribing that the union label shall be on all county
printing. This means much more than appears on
the surface; It means that thousands of men who
do not belong to organized labor must be denied
any employment furnished by the county; it
means that many firms, with possibly millions of
dollars in the aggregate invested, must be barred
from all participation in the profits of county
work of all kinds.
To tell the truth it Is not only in the West
where this kind of equality of opportunity is
openly advocated. Only a few weeks ago the fol
lowing news item was printed in a Waltham
newspaper: "Through a committee of two of its
members. Local 328 of the Coal Drivers' union,
which includes drivers employed by coal dealers
in Waltham, Newton and Watertown, has lodged
a protest with Mayor Duane against the hand-

264 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
ling of coal for use in municipal buildings by non
union men."
But the enslavement of labor to the will of the
Unions is not confined to the efforts of a county
court In Missouri. An article printed some time
ago In the "Ohio Journal of Commerce" throws
much light on the subject from a wider point of
view. The article. In part, is as follows: —
"The Town Booster par excellence is a member
of this 78th General Assembly of Ohio. His name
is Smith, christened William Theodore. He is a
democrat and he hails from Marion, Ohio. Smith
is the author of a bill to open the doors of oppor
tunity to young men whose parents are unable
to give them an education fitting them for a pro
fession. Here's the whole bill, told in its first
paragraph: —
'"It shall be unlawful for any person or com
bination of persons to prevent, attempt to pre
vent, or combine to prevent, any apprentices from
learning useful trades or restricting the number
thereof who can learn such trades, or in any
way interfering with their employment as such
apprentices.' "The bill was on hearing before the committee
and the representation of union labor men was
one of the largest ever seen In the General Assem
bly. Labor put its best speakers to the fore. They
assailed the bill bitterly, its author as well, and

LET INDUSTRY BE FREE 265
the town he represented. They insisted on the
right of union labor to dictate to employers when
they should employ apprentices and how many;
its author's purpose was to fry fat for corpora
tions, they said; his home town of Marion, they
asserted, was notorious all over the world for its
poor mechanics and Its Inferior manufactured
products. Smith sat silent under the imputations
cast upon his motives, but when the labor
speakers jumped on his town he blew up.
"'Come up to my town of Marion,' he shouted,
'and I'll show you a town that has n't a tender
loin. I'll show you a town that has n't a single
tough street. I '11 show you a town that has more
workmen who own their own homes than any of
its size in the world — and it is not a union labor
town. I 'U show you a town that has more paving
and more stone sidewalks than any of you ever
heard of.
" ' Come up to my town of Marion and I '11 show
you the Susquehanna Silk Mills, worth over a
million dollars, and its more than four hundred
employes weaving the fabrics seen on feminine
backs wherever silk Is wom. I'll show you the
Huber Company, with Its eight hundred work
men, producing threshers, traction engines, and
separators that win the award of merit wherever
they compete. I'll show you the Marion Steam
Shovel Company, with its two thousand men.

266 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
soon to be increased to two thousand five hundred,
manufacturing steam shovels, log loaders and
dredges; the company whose product you'll now
find on the Panama Canal, bought by the United
States Government at a higher price than any
other shovel or dredge-making company dared ask.
'"Come up to my town of Marion and tell the
workmen there that they are the poorest workmen
and produce the poorest goods and they'll show
you a better town to live in, a better town to do
business in, and a better town to die In than you
in your egotism and ignorance ever dreamed of.
Furthermore, I '11 show you a town where we don't
say to the young man, "You cannot learn a trade
because some day you may crowd me out of my
job " ; where we don't say to the young man, " You
shall not be permitted to be a machinist, a car
penter, a bricklayer, a metal polisher, a moulder ";
where we don't say to the young man, "Go dig a
ditch or get a job driving a hack." In a word I'll
show you a community of industry, of intelli
gence, of morality.
" ' Come Up to my town of Marlon and I 'U show
you a town where we try to live decently and hon
estly, and where we are not afraid to let others try
to live as well. I'll show you a town where we
have opportunity — where we make opportunity
— a town where we are not so selfish or so bigoted
that we would deny opportunity to others.' "

LET INDUSTRY BE FREE 267
n
Some time ago, addressing an audience in Bos
ton, Ex-president Eliot of Harvard University
made the following statement: "The trade-
unions take a strong hand in reducing the personal
independence and practical liberty of the journey
men in their respective trades. Of one thing,
however, we may be assured, namely, that indus
trial freedom will not be promoted by measures
which diminish personal self-reliance, voluntary
industry and ambition, and earnestness in work.
Whatever deprives a man of a personal, individual
motive for self-Improvement and robust exertion
will not make him freer, but, on the contrary,
more servile, and, in the long run, less Intelligent,
industrious and free, for freedom is a matter of
character and will power. Does not American
experience in the nineteenth century go to show
that political freedom is of limited value unless It
is accompanied by genuine social and industrial
freedom, and that social and industrial freedom
are essential to the maintenance of every other
kind of desirable freedom?"
The strike of the shopmen on the Harrlman
Lines some time ago threw into clear relief the
nature and extent of the Industrial anarchy with
which the nation is now threatened. Behind the
federation of these shopmen were certain de-

268 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
mands, such as increase in pay and reduction in
hours of work. But apart from such natural and
reasonable demands there were others of a much
more questionable nature, such as the "closed
shop," the abolition of the requirements of physi
cal examinations, and the furnishing of personal
records of candidates for employment. By these
methods only, of course, can the fitness of candi
dates for employment be judged. These reason
able restrictions have been vetoed by the Feder
ation of Shopmen. A gigantic combination of this
nature, unregulated and unchecked, manifestly
endangers the efficiency and safety of the entire
railroad service, as well as the business interests of
the people as a whole. So the question naturally
arises as to who is going to regulate and restrain
confederations of this nature in the same way that
capital and the interests of capital are being regu
lated. Managers of railroads and those who are
responsible to the public for efficiency and safety
in operation are sorely puzzled nowadays in trying
to keep their heads above water. In July of the
present year, W. L. Park, Vice-president and
General Manager of the Illinois Central Railroad,
in a public discussion of these matters, spoke
frankly of the serious way in which the railways
were hampered, and their efficiency reduced, by
the unreasonable attitude of the labor organiza
tions which are struggling under the yokes of

LET INDUSTRY BE FREE 269
ignorant and corrupt leadership. There has been
too much managerial caution In this country for the
good of the railways. When organized labor at
tempts to dictate who shall be employed, regard
less of capability, and who shall be foremen,
regardless of all qualifications other than seniority
or unionism, it is digging a pitfall into which it,
or the employers, must eventually disappear.
When these organizations begin to realize that
they are to man the railways and that managers
must be left to manage them, they can begin to
really better their condition. No business can
prosper saturated with disloyalty and steeped In
incompetency and bred by labor-restricting fana
tics. The time is opportune to Improve condi
tions. The men are sick of the mistakes of their
leaders and are ready to do business on business
principles. Labor will find no great difficulty In
reaching common ground with the railways and in
restoring harmonious relations everywhere. If it
is disposed to apply the Golden Rule literally to
its efforts.
But this kind of industrial anarchy is by no
means confined to the railroads. The labor of
convicts, and prison life in general as it Is affected
by these labor problems is another illustration In
point. In prisons as elsewhere, "Let Labor be
Free " is the slogan of the individualist.
Some time ago I paid a visit to the county jail

270 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
at Salem, Massachusetts. The situation in these
county jails at the present day, from the indus
trial standpoint, is most instructive. So far as the
labor of convicts is concerned it serves as an ob
ject lesson for the whole country. We are in
formed in the Prison Commissioners' Report, that
at the end of the year 1910 there were one hun
dred and thirty-two men and seven women In
custody in this institution, and that during the
year the work had been limited in amount, and,
despite the best efforts of the master, it has not
been possible to secure more of it. In this, as in
nearly all county jails since the restrictions were
put upon prison labor, it has been impossible to
furnish employment for all the able-bodied pris
oners, and many of them go idle. There has been
no change in the situation since this report was
written. On the occasion of my visit to the Salem
House of Correction I found perhaps thirty of the
inmates at work in a chair shop, and a few en
gaged in domestic services. The cells were fairly
clean, and the food was solid and wholesome —
pork, beans and heavy stews — a diet such as
men should be provided with who are vigorously
and regularly engaged In hard work. I passed
along the rows of cells and looked in. I saw quite
a number of men locked In these cells on a broiling
hot midsummer day, loafing and lounging, and
lying outstretched on the cots. Posted up on the

LET INDUSTRY BE FREE 271
walls in the corridor were some of the prison regu
lations, one of which was to the effect that when
the inmates were not at work they were to remain
locked in their cells. Thereupon, at intervals, I put
a number of questions to the prison official who
accompanied me. I said to him, "How and where
do these men get exercise, air, sunshine, and men
tal and physical employment enough to keep
them from going mad?" He replied that it was
impossible, with the facilities at hand in that jail,
to provide these essentials to decent living. He
confessed there was neither yard room outside,
nor hall room inside, available for exercise of any
description, and as for the labor conditions, people
outside the jail walls were responsible for that.
To tell the truth, he said such work as there was,
was done at a loafing pace, for fairly brisk work to
day would mean a general loaf to-morrow. "Well,
if these men cannot be provided with work, I
suppose they are permitted to read. Have they
any reading matter to occupy their minds?" I
enquired. "No," he replied. "Some time ago the
library was destroyed by fire, and no effort has
been made to replace it." "Are they permitted to
read newspapers?" "Yes, on Sunday, if they can
pay for them." "How many of these inmates
have any money in their pockets when they come
here?" was my next question. "About twenty
per cent," was the answer. That is to say, eighty

272 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
per cent of the inmates never see a paper or a
book, although they remain in the jail anywhere
from three months to three years. It may well be
asked what effect will three years of this kind of
treatment have on an average human being.
Next I looked over a railing to the right of a row
of cells and gazed down into a sort of cock-pit.
Some half dozen human beings, stark naked, were
disporting themselves like cattle and squirting
water and daubing soap over each other. The
attendant said that was the best way to wash he
could think of, under the circumstances.
Turning again to the cells, we noticed a man
outstretched on one of the cots, with one of his
feet on the bed clothes. The turnkey motioned to
him, and the man quickly dropped his foot on the
floor. At the same time there were other cells in
which the inmates were Imprisoned on that blis
tering hot day. They were pacing up and down —
two or three steps was the limit, and visitors are
permitted to stare at them through the bars just
as people do at wild animals In a menagerie.
I asked the jailer what the penalty was for
refusing to obey, or for being stubborn in obeying
these rules. He replied, "Twenty-four hours in
the solitary on bread and water; If that is not
sufficient, then a term of ten days of the same
treatment; If additional 'correction' is necessary,
we then take him out, give him a good square

LET INDUSTRY BE FREE 273
meal, and put him back again for ten more."
That, he said, was the limit, according to the
rules. Naturally one would like to know what
happens to these unfortunates when their terms
expire. I was informed they were provided with
clean clothes, presented with a dollar in money,
and transportation to a neighboring city. "What
is the use of coddling them in this way ! " said the
Salem jailer to me. "Clean clothes, one dollar,
and transportation to Lynn, and Inside of a week
most of them are back again."
Without any reference to the other features In
the situation. It can safely be said that the In
mates of these prisons are condemned to idleness
and are kept locked in those cells in stifling
weather to please organized labor, and their
friends the politicians.
This, then. Is a picture of prison conditions in
the county jails in Massachusetts, but it Is by no
means a typical story of the situation as a whole.
American public opinion, I am well aware, has
taken hold of this matter and Is working it out
along lines of humanity and social justice. I re
ceived a very good idea of what this policy and
these methods are, and are to be, from visits
which I also made to the State Prison in Charles
town, and to the Reformatory at Concord. No
one can converse for five minutes with the war
dens of these institutions without being impressed

274 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
with the remarkable social and Industrial labors in
which they are engaged. The splendid work of
these men, it is true, is only a reflection of up-to-
date American sentiment and of the modern un
derstanding of the term criminality. But these
wardens are handicapped in their good work by
the politicians who are at the beck and call of
organized labor. American public opinion should
now demand that industrial justice shall be
meted out alike to the convict and to the free
man. What right has free labor, or free legisla
tures, or organized labor, for that matter, to
impose restrictions of any kind upon prison labor?
We are told that prison labor should not be per
mitted to compete with free labor. The idea is
absurd and illogical on its face. A labor unit In
Roxbury, for example, moves to Lynn, and not a
word Is said about it, but if he happens to move to
a particular indoor spot in Charlestown, and is
put to work at his trade, the discovery is at once
made that he is competing unfairly with the trade
outside. While proper regulation of the price at
which prison goods are put on the market Is a
most reasonable proceeding, the liberty and right
of prison officials to install machinery and to put
the convicts to work at trades best suited to their
moral and physical betterment should, I think, be
recognized by all fair-minded people. In other
words, let prison labor be free.

LET INDUSTRY BE FREE 275
The recent strike of the minority of the em
ployes of the Boston Elevated Railroad Com
pany, is another illustration of the power and
methods of the labor unions in dealing with indi
vidual freedom in industry. On the eve of city
and state elections an alliance between the poli
tician and organized labor was sufficient to over
turn and destroy a system of personal and respons
ible service, which has stood the test of years,
and was altogether satisfactory to the commun
ity. From beginning to end the affair was simply
a barefaced scramble to secure the labor vote,
without the slightest regard to the Interests of the
service, or the community. The principle has
now been established In Massachusetts that or
ganized labor be it never so riotous has constitu
tional and civil rights, but that unorganized labor,
be it never so painstaking and loyal, has no
standing or weight in the community. Personal
self-reliance, voluntary industry and ambition,
and earnestness in work, by which alone Indus
trial freedom can be secured, have been exchanged
for the right to organize. The battle for efficiency
of service on the Boston Elevated, as elsewhere, is
now to be fought out between regulated capital
and management on the one hand, and the un
regulated and irresponsible labor unions on the
other. So far as unorganized labor Is concerned
equality of opportunity to work is now a very
fanciful dream.

276 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
m
Finally a general survey of conditions and out
look from the standpoint of the individualist
seems to be called for.
So far as socialism is concerned. It seems to me
there is little cause for anxiety. The battle be
tween public and private ownership of anything
or everything must and will be fought out In the
arena of practical experiment. The democratic
idea must welcome progress along these lines
regardless of distinguishing names or parties.
With this understanding of the evolution of de
mocracy in America, both the socialist and the
individualist may honestly devote themselves,
heart and soul, to their respective campaigns.
But when we turn from general ideas of govern
ment to the industrial situation In America at the
present day, the necessity for criticism of a more
specific nature is at once apparent.
As I look at the labor situation, then, society is
just now in a precious pickle. The need of the
hour is for right-minded people who understand
the situation to describe it without political or
sentimental prejudice. The alienation of the em
ployer from the employe, one or two phases of
which I have described In a preceding chapter,
has borne fruit. Organized labor intentionally,
and organized management to a great extent.

LET INDUSTRY BE FREE 277
perhaps, by compulsion, had substituted machin
ery for personality and these machines are now
clashing, with results that are known to all men.
In describing the situation as it should be de-
crlbed It will be necessary to use, as It were, a
chisel Instead of a pen.
From the point of view of the individualist, then,
the tendency of modern industrial methods and
legislation Is to reenslave the world. To a great
extent this conclusion is arrived at from a study of
the excessive demands and unfair policies of or
ganized labor. The first item In this modern
industrial programme Is the surrender of the
individual worklngman. He Is called upon to sink
his industrial personality and to stifle his Indus
trial conscience in the interests of his union or his
class. This class doctrine is not hidden under a
bushel. It is proclaimed at every labor meeting,
you read it in countless books. It Is openly
preached on street corners and In all public places
of assembly. Finally the movement receives sup
port from an army of well-meaning reformers, the
victims of imaginative sociology, who are next in
turn to be doctored personally and professionally
by some of their own theories.
The modern industrial policy to which I refer
says, in effect, "We propose to run the earth, that
is to say, to name our own terms, to nominate our
own managers, to regulate our own wages and

278 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
conditions, to feed, clothe, and carry the masses
of the people according to the plans and standards
of the industrial commonwealth which it is our
purpose ultimately to establish. We have the
numbers, the votes, the organization, the con
centration, in a word, the federation; conse
quently, in every sense of the term, the future
belongs to us."
Beginning with the worker himself the process
of enslavement spreads outward. It overshad
ows the press, the pulpit, and the platform. The
limitations it has imposed upon management are
as glaring as they are dangerous. On the railroads
the problems of efficiency and safety must now
pass through the sieve of industrial and political
expediency. This modern Industrial policy says to
the common people, to the great mass of con
sumers, "Be with us or go hungry"; to the trav
eler, "Be with us or walk." To the politician as
well as to the inoffensive voter it offers an un
questioning alliance or the private life. To the
ministers of the Gospel It presents the ultimatum,
"Consider our terms or consider religion a dead
issue." It invites the educator to twist his phUo
sophy and teaching in Its direction, or be publicly
branded as a mere academic or "Intellectual."
To employers, managers, inventors, pioneers, and
capitalists it holds forth no olive branch or alter
native. To all non-affiliated industrial units, such

LET INDUSTRY BE FREE 279
as these, it merely suggests a return to the wood
pile. The majority of thinking people may not
yet be ready to interpret the sounds and the rum
bling In the distance in this light, and many of
those who have the requisite knowledge and in
sight are politically and Industrially enslaved by
the difficulties and delicacies of their positions.
Nevertheless, to all doubters of the reality and
truth of the picture I have drawn of present con
ditions, I have but one word of advice — "cir-
cumsplce." But the flight of progress has two wings. I ap
proach the subject again with facts of the same
nature, but from a wider philosophical stand
point. In a recent issue of the London "Daily
Mail," the noted novelist, Mr. Galsworthy, in
formed his readers that, in his opinion, "democ
racy at present, not only In England but in
America, offers the spectacle of a man running
down a road followed at a more and more respect
ful distance by his own soul." From the literary
point of view this is certainly a very attractive
statement, but it is far from being a correct diag
nosis of the situation. On the contrary, as it seems
to me, democracy in America to-day is making
heroic efforts to keep up with its soul, and this
soul. In many directions, is actually getting ahead
of the game. Digestion and assimilation are
problems of the social as well as of the individual

280 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
stomach. In any period of civilization an over
dose of soul can anticipate a day of reckoning,
just as Inevitably as an overdose of tyranny or
corruption. Every once In a while society gets an unex
pected reminder of these facts. Just at present,
for example, ideas of humanity and of social jus
tice are everywhere clashing with authority. In
religious and educational matters, in the home
and in the field of industry, society is now con
fronted with the all-important problem of reason
able and necessary discipline. The situation. In a
general way, owes its vitality to the benevolent
intentions of hosts of earnest and conscientious
people who are now determined to give poverty
an uplift and labor its due share of reward. In
practical everyday operations, however, this kind
of moral enthusiasm, generous and praiseworthy
as it surely Is, has some of the dangers as well as
many of the useful properties that are associated
with steam. And unfortunately, for the proper
control of this all-comprehensive and irresistible
moral pressure, civilization in America to-day is
in a tremendous hurry. Under stress of mental
and moral overstrain, — and here we have the
spectacle of the man running down the road try
ing to keep pace with his soul, — there seems to
be no time, no opportunity for the patient con
sideration of social and industrial safeguards. In

LET INDUSTRY BE FREE 281
fact, the thinking process of Americans in general
is now being managed by a few specialists just as
scientifically as the laboring process. The men
who coin political catch-phrases, introduce mov
ing pictures, teach systems of industrial efficiency,
or dictate opinions and policies to be followed by
millions of working people, are all trying to make
it easy to think as well as easy to work.
Meantime society itself is in a spendthrift
mood. It is intoxicated with the wealth of mater
ial resources and moral opportunities. Just at
present it is supremely interested in the laboring
classes. Every practical manifestation of this
public sympathy, however, is nowadays quickly
converted by Its recipients into terms of political
and Industrial power, and this power Is now
frankly and openly at odds with authority and
with personal and property rights of nearly every
description. Now I think it will take but a few words to
convince open-minded people that the industrial
chaos at the present day, a partial picture of
which I have drawn, contains within itself the
germs of reconciliation and cure. The labor union
to-day flourishes and commits excesses by virtue
of power entrusted to It by the spirit of humanity,
which has become the sign manual of progress of
every description in the twentieth century. This
spirit of humanity, or, in other words, this soul of

282 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INDIVIDUALIST
democracy which Mr. Galsworthy would have
Americans look upon as a tail-ender of some kind,
is actually in alliance with every manifestation or
echo of righteousness that is able to express itself
in any way throughout the length and breadth of
civilized society. The initial outburst of pent-up
feeling, put in motion by this alliance, has already
swept scores of social and Industrial disgraces
from the map of society, but In the natural order
of things there Is wholesale demoralization in the
chaotic yet fundamentally healthy situation that
remains. The next few years in America are to be
an era of renaissance. The soul of democracy is
now beginning to take stock of its handiwork.
For one thing. It will, in the near future, place
a restraining hand quietly but firmly on the
shoulder of organized labor, and in doing so it
will give millions of other toilers a greater measure
of social and industrial justice.
Finally, the writer, whose life-story the reader
has been following in these pages, has this part
ing word to say to his brother individualists —
everywhere: — Launch your vessel,
And crowd your canvas.
And, ere it vanishes
Over the margin.
After it, follow it.
Follow the Gleam!

INDEX

INDEX

Accident at Crescent Avenue
Station, South Boston, 240-44.
Accidents, on American rail
roads in the eighties, 113, 133-
36; Fagan's study of, 194-98;
causes of, 226-29, 240^4,
247-53.
Alec, boy friend of Pagan, 10-13.
Authority, conservation of, 157-
63, 193, 224-29; ideas of hu
manity and social justice at
present clash with, 280, 281.
Axioms, influence of, 256.
Bahia, Fagan's sojourn at, 60,
61, 65-67.
Baldwin, William H., 104.
Bible, 36, 38; Fagan introduced
to, 17; texts, 28, 33, 34, 44.
Big Mike, 180-83.
Biological investigations of Dar
win and others, 39.
Boers, the, character and strug-
glefor independence of, in 1880,
82-87.
Boston, Fagan's arrival in, 101,
102.
Boston Elevated Railway Com
pany, strike of employees of,
275.
Brazil, Fagan's sojourn in, 49-
67.

Breakers, Conductor, 145-48.
Broadbent, telegraph clerk, Fa
gan makes acquaintance of,
34-36; conversations of Fagan
with, 36-42; a social degener
ate, 52-54; accused by Fagan
of robbery, 56-58.
Brooks, Phillips, 104.
Brotherhood of Locomotive En
gineers, the, 221-24.
Brown, Mr., minister of the Free
Kirk, 17, 18.
Burgers, President, of Transvaal
Republic, 69.
Capital, useful and necessary,
256.
Carelessness on railroads, 135,
136.
Catch-phrases, influence of, 256,
261, 262.
Character, whether to be consid
ered scientific or religious, 40,
41.
Character-building, 27-31.
Class spirit in school, 23-25.
Colenso, Bishop, 71.
Concord Reformatory, 273.
Conservation of authority, 157-
63, 193, 224-29.
Correct living, problems of,
36.

286

INDEX

Dan, railroad hand, 153-57, 159,
160.
Darwin, Charles, 38, 39.
Delvy, Mr., section foreman,
151.
Democracy of the present day,
defined by Galsworthy and by
Fagan, 279, 280.
Diamond Fields of South Africa,
the, 96-100.
East Deerfield, position secured
by Fagan at, 105; Fagan's
place of occupation at, 106,
107; Fagan's companions and
fellow workers at, 107-12;
Fagan's business experience at,
112-17, 123, 124; Fagan's
reading while at, 117-23.
Eliot, President C. W., Fagan's
study of, 214, 216-19; quoted
on industrial freedom, 267.
Enginemen, railroad, demands of,
221-39.
Equality of opportunity, 261-75.
Fagan, J. O., the family stock of,
from the Island of Skye, 2;
progenitors of, in India, 2, 3;
his father a survivor of the In
dian Mutiny, 3; birth, 3; early
home, 3-5; the wilderness
stage of his boyhood, 6-8; and
the adventure of the rabbit-
warren, 9-15; the first emer
gence of his personality, 12,
15; beginning of his self-asser
tion, 16, 17; his religious con

dition in childhood, 17-19, 22;
at school in Fortrose academy,
19-22; at school at Manchester,
22-25, how he came to leave
England, 25; intellectual and
religious condition of, at this
time, 26; interview with cou
sin, 26-28; his understanding
of the text "Keep yourself un
spotted from the world," 28-
31; adventure at Lisbon, 29-
31; his condition on leaving
Lisbon, 32-34; makes acquain
tance with Broadbent, 34-36;
first indications of a definite
philosophy, 36; conversations
of, with Broadbent, 36-42;
benefit derived from Broad
bent by, 37-39, 42; aspect of
the past to, 42, 43; studies
Spanish, 42, 44; accepts invi
tation of Spanish merchant to
go to Rosario, 43-49; goes to
Santos, 49; his sojourn in Bra
zil, 49-67; shocked at social
conditions in Brazil, 60-55;
studies languages, 55, 56, 73;
has yellow fever, 67, 58; his
early experience of women, 63,
64; incident at Bahia, 64-67;
his aim and intentions in going
to South Africa, 68; conditions
in South Africa at time of his
sojourn in, 68-70; meets Rider
Haggard, 70; meets Bishop Co
lenso, 71; his attitude toward
society, 71, 102; his religious
views changing, 72; not influ-

INDEX

287

enced by considerations of
material interests, 72; his
initiation among scenes and
peoples of South Africa, 72-
95; his account of a hunting
expedition, 77-82; on the Boer
character, 82-87; on the Kaf
firs, 88-93; his thoughts turned
toward the United States, 94,
96; at the South African Dia
mond Fields, 98-100; leaves
South Africa, 100; value of his
life in South Africa, 101; ar
rives in Boston, 101, 102; his
view of people and conditions
in New England, 102-4; se
cures position in Hancock,
N. H., and then in East Deer
field, Mass., 105; his place of
occupation at East Deerfield,
106, 107; his companions and
fellow workers at East Deer
field, 107-12; on railroad con
ditions in early eighties, 112-
17; the reading stage of his life
and his study of the diction
ary, 117-23; his duties at East
Deerfield, 123, 124; takes a va
cation, 124; accepts position
in interlocking tower in West
Cambridge, 127; his duties in
this position, 128-30, 140-44;
mind study of, 165-69; his
literary efforts, 183-88, 192;
visits Samuel Jojies, Mayor of
Toledo, 189-92; reports on
coal strike for the "Boston
Journal," 192-94; undertakes

to study the accident situation
on railroads, 194, 195; his mar
ried life, 196; his attempts to
excite individual interest in
subject of accidents, 196; let
ter of Edgar J. Rich to, 197;
his " The Confessions of a Rail
road Signalman," 197, 198;
his study of the "Three Pre
sidents," 199-219.
Fear, 33, 34.
Field, F. A., 110-12, 114, 119.
Fillimore, an acquaintance of
Fagan in South America, 53-
55.
Fitzgerald, Mayor John F.,
quoted on railroad accident at
South Boston, 241, 242; letter
of, on disorderly conduct of
boys, 247, 248.
Fortrose, 3, 4, 19.
Galsworthy, John, quoted, 279.
Generalities, 18, 25, 26, 28-31, 33.
Gold Fields of South Africa, the,
96, 97.
Graft on the railroads, 146.
Grand Trunk Railroad, action of
the Brotherhood of Locomo
tive Engineers on entrance of,
into New England, 223, 224.
Greek and Latin, value set upon,
by Fagan, 118, 119.
Grumpy, of South Africa, 76-77.
Haggard, Rider, 70.
Hancock, N. H., position secured
by Fagan at, 105.

288

INDEX

Harkins, railroad hand, 153.
Hartwell, Mr., 161-63, 175, 176.
Henry, acquaintance of Fagan at
East Deerfield, 108, 109.
Hobbs, F. S., 241.
Humanity, prevalent spirit of,
280-82.
Impressionist, the, portraits of,
201, 202, 210, 214-16.
Individualism, of the author's
boyhood, 6; the doctrine of,
265.
Individualist, the, and society, 1.
Industrial anarchy, threatened,
267-69.
Industrial methods, modern, the
tendency of, to reenslave the
world, 277-79.
Industry should be free, 255-82.
Jails, conditions in, 269-74.
Jake, acquaintance of Fagan at
East Deerfield, 109.
James, Mr., prospector in South
Africa, 96, 97.
John, railroad hand, 152.
Jones, Samuel, 189-92.
Kaffirs, the, 88-93.
Kimberley, 98-100.
Kruger, Paul, 69.
Kruttschnitt, Mr., vice-president
of the Southern Pacific Rail
road, 196.
Labor, movement to organize, in
the eighties, 137-40.

Labor leaders, irresponsible
power of, 230, 231.
Labor situation, at present, 276.
Labor unions, the power of, in
the railroads, 221-39; enslave
ment of labor to will of, 263-
67; bad tendencies of, 267-79;
flourish through power en
trusted to them by prevalent
spirit of humanity, 281.
Latin, value set upon, by Fagan,
118, 119.
Lisbon, 29-31.
Love, 34.
Lucy, railroad hand, 152, 153.
McTavish, schoolmaster, 18-21.
Manchester, school at, 22.
Mat, railroad hand, 152.
Mellen, President, Fagan's study
of, 199-203, 215.
New England in the eighties, 96-
127.
"Ohio Journal of Commerce,"
article in, quoted, 264-<36.
Oklahoma and the railroads, 258,
259.
Opportunity, equality of, 261-
75.
Overtime payment, 130-32.
"Paper," the, 134.
Park, W. L., 268.
Parks, Mr., conductor, 132, 133.
Pass, the, 171.
Peixoto, 58-62, 93.

INDEX

289

Personal conduct, philosophy of,
in its relation to life in general,
36.
Personal elements, ehmination of
in working relationships in
America, 170-74.
Politics and railroads, 239-44.
Prayer, 18, 33.
Prinsloo, 83-87.
Prison life, as affected by labor
problems, 269-74.
Public opinion, politically influ
enced, 240, 243.
Public utility, an overworked
catch-phrase, 257, 259.
Railroads, man's inhumanity to
man seen in conditions of, 112-
16; considered semi-disreput
able business in early eighties,
114; men and conditions on,
128-63; organization of work
ers on, 137-40; switch tower
duties on, 140-44; workers on,
at West Cambridge, 144-67;
graft on, 146-48; changes in,
in the nineties, 169; the giving
way of the personal relations
between employer and em
ployed on, 170-83; increase of
detail in administration of,
175-79; the riddle of the, 220-
54; the storm centre of politi
cal and industrial activity,
220; a field for experiments,
220, 221; the power of the la
bor union in, 221-39; and poh
tics, 239-44; track- work on,

243-47; trespassing on prop
erty of, 247-53; Federal own
ership of, may be result of
present conditions, 253, 254;
and Oklahoma, 268, 259; in
dustrial anarchy threatened
in, 267-69.
"Railway Age Gazette," quoted
on railway accidents, 226-29. :
Religion, what it meant to Fagan
as a child, 17-19, 22; Fagan's,
as affected by the philosophy
of Peixoto, 60; Fagan's, chang
ing, 72; Fagan's, in the eighties
and at present, 106; of Shake
speare, 121-23.
Responsibility, avoidance of, by
labor unions and their leaders,
230-33.
Rich, Edgar J., letter of, to Fa
gan, 197.
Riddle of the Railroads, the,
220-54.
Roosevelt, Theodore, on the con
servation of authority, 157-
59; Fagan's study of, 200, 202-
16; quoted, 260, 261.
Rosario, 43-49.
Russell, Bull Run, 95.
Salem County Jail and House of
Correction, conditions in, 269
73.
Sampson, railroad hand, 153.
Santos, Fagan's sojourn at, 49-60.
School life, of Fagan, 19-25.
Scientific engineer, the, and sci
entific management, 232-39.

290

INDEX

Section foreman, the, 243-45.
Section-hands, 245, 246.
Seward, Henry W., 240.
Shakespeare, William, Fagan's
delight in and study of, 121-
23, 185, 186.
Shepstone, Sir Theophilus, 69.
Sixteen-Hour Law, the, 172.
Smith, E. A., 124, 125, 130.
Social responsibility, lack of, in
railroads, in early eighties,
112-14.
SociaUsm, 276.
South Africa, Fagan's aim and
intentions in going to, 68; con
ditions in, at the time of Fa
gan's sojourn in, 68-70; Fa
gan's initiation among scenes
and people of, 72-95; the gold
fields of, 96, 97; the Diamond
Fields of, 98-100.
South America, Fagan prepares
to leave England for, 25.
Special privileges, 259.
State Prison in Charlestown, 273.
Stone, Chief, of the Brotherhood
of Locomotive Engineers, quot
ed, 221, 222.
Styles, schoolmaster, 22, 23.
Superintendent, railroad, meth
ods and duties of, 177.
Telegraph service of railroads,
in the eighties, 114-17, 130,
131.
Texts, Biblical, 28, 33, 34, 44.
" The Tempest," Fagan's study
of, 123, 185, 186.

Three Presidents, Fagan's study
of, 199-219.
Tower men, condition of, in the
eighties, 128-32, 140-44.
Tracers, 107.
Track-walkers, 246.
Track-workers, 243-47.
Train-dispatcher, the, 177.
Transvaal Republic, conditions
in, at time of Fagan's sojourn
in, 68-70.
Trespassing on railroad property,
247-53.
Tumer, E. K., 125-27, 134, 135.
Type, the word, 108.
Unions. See Labor unions.
Water, the term as apphed to rail
roads or railroad stock, 269-61.
West Cambridge, Fagan accepts
position in interlocking tower
at, 127; Fagan's duties in posi
tion at, 128-30, 140-44; rail
road workers at, 144-57.
Will-power, increase of strength
of muscle due to, 15, 16.
Wolseley, Sir Garnet, 88, 92.
Women, Fagan's early experience
of, 29-31, 63-67.
Workingmen, movement toward
the organization of, on the
railroads, 137-40; at West
Cambridge on the ¦ Fitchburg
Railroad, 144-57. See Labor
unions.
Yankee, the, 107-110.

(Stbe nitiEr^ibe ^tef0
CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS
U . S . A