meant.

But it was something like: "A man is not dangersome, if he brings a gift.")

With the benediction, the services which opened Drew Theological Seminary came to an end. I came away feeling, in the words of the benediction, the peace of God which passeth all understanding. The New York Christian Advocate said: "We most heartily congratulate the munificent founder and patron of the new seminary in view of its propitious inauguration, and also upon its fortunate location and the highly commodious buildings and ample grounds in which the nascent 'school of the prophets' begins its career."

I

XXIX

WAS glad that the opening of my theological
School came just when it did.

Because it fitted into a niche in the year's work when I had the time to attend it. If, instead of coming in November, it had come two months earlier, it would have found me right in the midst of my dicker to get back into the Director's Board and Treasuryship of the Erie Road. And if it had come three months later, it would have found me in the midst of the war with the Commodore. Maybe, just at the time when the opening services were being held, it would have found me at Taylor's Hotel. Of course, in that latter case I could have gone to Madison, it being also outside of York State's jurisdiction. Still, it would have been inconvenient for me; because those weeks at "Fort Taylor" were weeks of so much distress of mind, that I couldn't have entered into the spirit of the inaugural occasion as I felt it deserved.

These were months, anyhow, in which I was hard pushed by business cares. Just when the first year of my Theological Seminary was drawing to a close, a bad accident happened on the Erie Road, which

enemies tried to lay at my door. An express train was coming along from the West one night. It had made the trip safely until it got to Carn's Rock, some sixteen miles west of Port Jervis. The road at that point is cut into the side of a precipice, overhanging a gorge. It was the last place where a railroad treasurer would like to have an accident. As bad luck would have it, just at that point is where the accident took place.

As the train was rushing along in the darkness of the early morning, the wheels in some way got off the rails and four cars were hurled down the embankment. They dropped eighty feet to the bottom and were crushed into a tangled mass. Twentytwo people were killed, and all the survivors mangled. The rear car was a sleeping coach. This was so smashed that the passengers inside couldn't get out. It caught on fire, and the people were burned alive. The shrieks of the passengers as they tried to get out of the burning car, were described in the newspapers the next day. Public feeling was aroused. The people out around Port Jervis held an indignation meeting. They got up an investigation to find out the cause of the "murder," as they called it. They seemed to think that some of us who were at the head of the road had set about to kill those poor passengers intentionally. It was the most unheard-of charge that a man ever had to stand up against. So I was glad when the investigation committee had

got through and made its report. Because then it was seen very clearly that the horrible thing wasn't a "murder" at all, but had happened just by accident.

However, I was not altogether pleased at the way this committee worded its report. I had tried to give out to the public that the accident had been caused by the spring rains, and by the softening of the road-bed, due to the winter's frost coming out of the ground, causing the rails to spread under the weight of the engine. But the coroner's report said that the accident was due to the rotten condition of the rails. It said that an inspection of the track at that point had showed that some of the rails had been used so long that they were worn to rags. This increased the public clamour. The investigation went on further and dug up unpleasant points in connection with my management of the

road.

The truth is, I had been obliged for some time back to scrimp expenses on the road-bed. The superintendent of that department had been pestering me for a long time back, because of the "worn-out and rotten condition of the rails," as he put it. He was a faithful fellow, one who took the welfare of the road very much to heart. But he was for improvements, no matter what the cost. I had the financial end to look after. New rails for five hundred miles of road-bed cost a sum of money which track foremen

I was con

haven't big enough minds to grasp. stantly more put to it than the Erie workmen had any idea of, to keep the road even in as good a condition as it was. It is true that I had got the direc

tors of the road several times to vote to borrow money for buying steel rails to replace the worn-out iron rails. But I had invariably found, as soon as the money was raised, that I needed it in my stockmarket operations. However, I wanted to keep the road up. As a matter of fact, I had told the superintendent of road-beds to go ahead and order new rails had given my full authority for the purchase. But, unfortunately, the manufacturer of rails sent the order back unhonoured — said that our last purchase hadn't been paid for as yet, and he wasn't going to send any more until we paid for those we already had. So, as the next best thing, I had got the old rails taken up and turned. A train wears out the inside of the rail more than the outside, because the flange of the wheel rubs against the inside edge. I figured that to have the rails turned was the next best thing to getting new rails altogether.

I

That's the long and short of the whole thing. got lots of blame at the time for the killing of those poor people, and for their burning alive in that sleeping car. So I want to state my side of the case. The New York Advocate was very considerate and charitable towards me. But Harper's Weekly