N O T E S
RAILROAD ACCIDENTS. 1
IT is a melancholy fact that there are few things of which
either nature or man is, as a rule, more lavish than human life;provided
always that the methods used in extinguishing it are customary
and not unduly obtrusive on the sight and nerves. As a necessary
consequence of this wastefulness, it follows also that the results
which ordinarily flow from the extinguishment of the individual
life are pitiably small. Any person curious to satisfy himself
as to the truth of either or both of these propositions can do
so easily enough by visiting those frequent haunts in which poverty
and typhoid lurk in company; or yet more easily by a careful study
of the weekly bills of mortality of any great city. Indeed, compared
with the massive battalions daily sacrificed in the perpetual
conflict which mankind seems forever doomed to wage against intemperance,
bad sewerage and worse ventilation, the victims of regular warfare
by sea and land count as but single spies. The worst of it is,
too, that if the blood of the martyrs thus profusely spilled is
at all the seed of
2 RAILROAD ACCIDENTS.
the church, it is a seed terribly slow of germination. Each
step in the slow progress is a Golgotha.
In the case of railroad disasters, however, a striking exception
is afforded to this rule. The victims of these, at least, do not
lose their lives without great and immediate compensating benefits
to mankind. After each new "horror," as it is called,
the whole world travels with an appreciable increase of safety.
Both by public opinion and the courts of law the companies are
held to a most rigid responsibility. The causes which led to the
disaster are anxiously investigated by ingenious men, new appliances
are invented, new precautions are imposed, a greater and more
watchful care is inculcated. And hence it has resulted that each
year, and in obvious consequence of each fresh catastrophe, travel
by rail has become safer and safer, until it has been said, and
with no inconsiderable degree of truth too, that the very safest
place into which a man can put himself is the inside of a first-class
railroad carriage on a train in full motion.
The study of railroad accidents is, therefore, the furthest
possible from being a useless one, and a record of them is hardly
less instructive than interesting. If carried too far it is apt,
as matter for light reading, to become somewhat monotonous; though,
none the less, about these, as about everything else, there is
an almost endless variety. Even in the forms of sudden death on
the rail, nature seems to take a grim delight in an infinitude
of surprises.
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