while important, are overshadowed by other considerations personal to their service. In its simplest aspects the subject of the wisest form of adjustment between labor and capital is enough; but, when considered in relation to our American railways, so many and complicated questions of management and economies arise, and the possible consequences of innovations are so great and serious, that few officials possessing sufficient influence with their directors and stockholders to make their advocacy effective have time or courage to take the initiative in an intelligent reform, which, under the most favorable circumstances, could only be established by overcoming the timidity of capital and the obstinate opposition of the ignorant and prejudiced. At first blush the proposition that intelligent beings would not welcome with hearty support and co-operation any measure whose patent object was the improvement of their welfare seems untenable, but the student of history will recall few instances where the violent opposition of the masses has not followed all general efforts to ameliorate their condition, since and before the day when the founder of the Christian religion suffered crucifixion for his temerity in a kindred cause. It is generally recognized at home and abroad that only through the betterment of their present physical condition and surroundings can a body of permanent, satisfied railway servants be secured; yet the path to success in such an enterprise is strewed with many difficulties, the primary one in this country arising from the absentee ownership of our great railroads, and the difficulty which a body of stockholders, or their representative directors, have in recognizing the needs and feelings of the rank and file operating their properties—living, as they do, far from their lines, or, if near, immersed in pursuits that do not bring them together. The ownership half of the railroad world—in the United States, at least—certainly knows little, and recks less, of how the employé half lives. True, no difficulty would probably be experienced in getting investors in railroad securities to admit, in glittering generalities, the desirability—even necessity—of bettering the condition of those upon whose energy, honesty, and fidelity they rely for dividends; but when confronted with any systematic measure for the accomplishment of this result, which apparently involves a considerable expenditure, they "back water" with alacrity. Philanthropy and benevolence find no resting-place in the bosoms of the average railroad shareholders; at least few think of beginning their charities among the homes of their people; therefore, to enlist their pecuniary support of any costly plan for helping railroad operatives, it must be shown to pay the shareholder. Treating the subject from a purely business stand-point, let us see if it pays our great corporations to rest their connection with their employés upon the mere payment of current wages.
At the close of the year 1884, 125,000 miles of railroad[1] were in
- ↑ These figures arc quoted as the nearest estimates obtainable from the best authorities.
