The Betterment of Our Highways

PERHAPS the best of the many measures which may be applied to modern states, in order to determine the degree of advancement to which they have attained, may be found in the condition of their common roads. On the character of these ways intimately depends the ease with which a people secure neighborly communication, as well as advantageous relations to the outer world. It is doubtful, indeed, whether a sound democracy, depending as it does on close and constant interaction of the local life, can well be maintained in a country where the roadways put a heavy tax on human intercourse.

Judged by the standard of our local ways, America as a whole must be regarded as the least advanced of all countries which are commonly classed as civilized. It is true that our great transportation routes, those which are ploughed by the steamers of our inland waters and traversed by locomotives, are well organized, wide-spreading, and efficient in a high degree; but these ways serve in a direct manner only a narrow belt of country on either hand. They have a high interstate and international value, but little relation to the needs of local life. So far from meeting the necessities of rural neighborhoods or aiding in their development, they have tended to retard the growth of the less conspicuous but really more important channels of communication, our common country roads.

A very strong argument could be made to support the point that the United States would have been in all essential regards more prosperous than it is at present if, in place of its railways, it had secured a system of highways constructed and maintained in the highest state of the road-maker’s art. It is true that our great export industries would have been much less important than they are now. It is true also that a prosperity in manufacturing which has brought great bodies of our people to the Birmingham state of hived employment would not exist. Many of our cities would be but country towns, and the buffalo would still roam over much of the country to the west of the Mississippi. On the other hand, our farmers would know more of one another than they do at present. Though they could not market their corn in Liverpool, they would still be able to take it to mill without the sore tax which the bad roads so generally levy upon them, or which the toll-taker requires as the price of a passable way. In such a wellunited community, distance counts for little against the duties of life, or against those pleasures which are in the higher sense a part of human obligation. The farmers could attend their town meetings, if they were so fortunate as to live in a part of the world which is governed by local parliaments. They could do their duty by their churches, and have a share in the festivities which enliven and enlarge their days. On the contrary, where the roads are bad, all the duties of the citizen and the social being are most imperfectly done. The people get in the habit of a hermit life; the winter season, which should be the time of social intercourse, is passed in seclusion ; households have but little touch with one another, and any real communal life becomes impossible.

The period of railway construction began in this country when the attention of the people had just been effectively directed to the construction of highways. In the years between about 1820 and 1840 all the thickly settled portions of our land had acquired the habit of improving these lines of communication. From the local market towns good roads were carried on radiating lines, so that many communities of the older sort, even as far west as western Kentucky, had made great advance in their highway systems. Though not well planned with reference to the surface over which they passed, or built with the skill which now characterizes the highway art, these roads were of great and rapidly increasing utility. With the use of the railway in this country there came a great change in the ideals and the practices of our people. They began to look forward to the construction of iron ways as the means whereby they might insure connection with the outer world. It seemed to them not to be worth while to give time and money to the making of old-fashioned carriage-paths, which indeed appeared contemptible as compared with the newfashioned means of travel. Now, however, that it has become plain that railways cannot profitably be arranged so as to reach every hamlet and cross-road, and the people have had a quarter of a century or more in which to experience the evils of bad roads, we find our folk once again turning to this ancient question as to the means of local intercommunication.

The sudden access of interest in the construction of highways which characterizes our time is in good part due to the invention of the bicycle. The wheel carriage propelled by foot power is a relatively old contrivance, but until the last quarter of a century the machine adhered to the old type of the four-wheeled vehicle. It required the hardy spirit of our time to lead the inventor to the conjecture that a man might ride on but two wheels. In its social importance the bicycle deserves to rank next to the railway and the telegraph, among the inventions of our waning century. The use of these instruments, the number of which is probably now to be reckoned by the million, affords to those who employ them constant object lessons as to the condition of our highways. Where a man is drawn by a horse, he needs to have a very keen sympathy with his beast in order to perceive how apparently slight differences in the condition of the roadway may greatly vary the amount of strain which is put upon the propelling agent. When, however, his own thews are employed, every little accident of the way makes a distinct impress on his body. Thus every cyclist becomes a critic of the highways he traverses; and as these people are scattered far and wide over the land, and are of a station to make themselves efficient developers of public opinion, we have through their art gained a very stimulating influence in favor of better roads.

It may seem at first sight as if public interest in better highways would of itself be sufficient to insure all needed improvements in these means of communication. Those, however, who have studied the development of the roadmaker’s art, in this and other countries, clearly see that public opinion must be well informed before there will be any chance of securing the end in view. We have to face a situation in which ancient habits and ignorances will greatly obstruct the process of reform. We cannot expect to clear away evils which for a thousand years have been borne in dull content, or to revolutionize bad practices of construction which are rooted in the customs of the people. Above all, it will be difficult to persuade our rural people to provide themselves with systems of highways the cost of which at the outset will be far greater than that of all the existing public improvements in their respective communities. Those who enter on this work must expect to hasten slowly, and to encounter many backsets in their undertaking. Their task is to educate as well as to inform. They have to teach by example rather than by precept, and the examples cost a deal of money.

It seems worth while for all intelligent people to have some general notion concerning the simpler facts involved in the science and art of road - making. With such persons the study of these matters may well begin with certain fundamental conceptions as to the essential relation of these constructions. All highways are intended to afford a hard, smooth, and as nearly as possible horizontal surface over which that great instrument of civilization, the wheel, with its burden, can be made to move with the least possible friction. Every unit of friction which is encountered is a measurable element of cost, either in time, power, or damage to the road and carriage. For every foot of distance he traverses the wagoner is incurring a tax. If he is conveying the weight of a ton to market, the amount of this tax for a mile may, under favorable conditions, not exceed five cents. From this minimum scale of expenditure, with the ad vancing degradation of the way, the cost may increase until it amounts to ten or twenty times what it is in the ideal though seldom realized state of a highway. At a certain stage in the accumulation of the tax, even the more adventurous, wisely, though without clear reckoning, regard the way as economically impassable. This conception of a roadway tax, and a clear idea as to the frequent enormity of the imposition, are the fundamental notions which we need to fix in the minds of our people. With these well affirmed, we may hope to interest them in the questions of betterment.

As in most other matters, the details connected with the construction and use of roads are much harder to present than the general considerations of the subject. There are, however, certain simple considerations which will enable any one to know the essential differences between sound and unsound practice in the construction of highways. The first and most important, though in all countrios the most neglected, element of care concerns what engineers call the profile of the way; that is, the irregular line described by its centre across the country. The ordinary road-master is in all cases tempted to draw his proposed line as directly as possible between his principal objective points. If he makes a digression from a rectilinear path, it is generally because he has encountered an insuperable obstacle, or because some landowner has effectively objected to having his fields cut in twain. Thus it comes about that the greater part of our roads are, from their unnecessary up hill and down, sorely taxing to the community which they are supposed to serve. In many parts of New England and the other hilly portions of this country, a wagon usually has to climb an aggregate height of a thousand or more feet in going the distance of ten miles, an amount of grade which could readily have been avoided by adding two or three miles to the length of the way.

In the rough reckoning of the country engineer, it always seems to be advantageous to construct a road on the most direct alignment which will be passable to loaded vehicles, with all the power which can conveniently be put upon them. It is easy, however, to show that usually the only economy which is thus effected is in the cost of the first construction. A close reckoning will always indicate that this initial economy is bought at a disproportionate annual cost in the expenses of use and maintenance. The load which can be drawn over the direct way is often not more than half that which could be taken over the longer route, and the proportionate wear on the draught animals and the vehicle will often vary in a similar measure. Moreover, the expense of maintaining hilly roads, under the wearing action of rain, frost, and locked wheels, will more than counterbalance the cost of a longer but less inclined route.

Many persons, particularly those of small experience, are of the opinion that they carry in the mind a wide stretch of country so effectively that they may be able to design a route which will fit the topography in a satisfactory manner. This is clearly a delusion, as is shown by the fact that no trained engineer, however wide his experience, dares trust himself to stake out a mile of railway without a careful preliminary survey of the ground, one which will enable him to take to his office the data by which he can plat and compare the several possible routes. This care as to the location of a railway, though invariably taken, is, in proportion to the magnitude of the interests involved, of rather less consequence than that demanded in the case of a common road. The increase in the expenditure of energy required to convey the loads of ordinary wagons up steep slopes is quite as great as it would be in the case of a locomotive climbing like grades, and the power which is applied through horseflesh costs far more per unit than that used in a locomotive. It is therefore clearly important to take the same kind of care in determining the route to be followed by a highway as is taken in the choice of a line for the newer kind of transportation.

The difficulty of securing proper engineering skill to determine the route to be followed by our ordinary roads arises in part from the fact that the greater portion of these lines, even in our littlesettled districts, have already been fixed in a way which makes it almost impossible to correct their course ; in part from the incompetence of our rural road-masters to do the kind of topographic work which is demanded of those who plan such constructions. Only slowly can we hope to correct the alignment of these ways. This task will have to be done in a piecemeal manner, and almost always the end will have to be attained against much opposition. In constructing new roads, much help will doubtless be had from the contour maps which the United States Geological Survey, in some cases with the aid of the several States, is now making. The more perfect of these charts delineate the surface of the country on the scale of one inch to the mile, and the heights are indicated by contour lines which show in a generally accurate way the form of the surface at intervals of twenty feet of elevation. So far, maps of this description of Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, and New Jersey have been prepared, and work of a similar nature is now under way in most of the States of this country. With such maps, a discreet engineer, however limited his education, can plan the route of a highway, and determine with an approximation to accuracy the aggregate grade which will be encountered along the various lines which may be suggested. Though the results obtained by this method will be less satisfactory than they would be if based on an accurate map prepared for the particular end in view, they will be vastly better than if they had been won by the old method, where the surveyor worked his way across the country, planning the road with reference to the ground which was immediately within the scope of his vision.

Difficult as is the task which the surveyor has to meet in planning a highway, the work is relatively simple as compared with the more detailed part of his duties when he comes to determine the exact form and structure of the road-bed. These features have to be related to a much-entangled set of natural and artificial conditions, He must then take into account the general nature of the traffic for which the way is to be used, the quality of the underlying earth as regards its solidity and the effect of the water upon it, the penetration of frost and its effects, the dangers arising from the scouring action of rain, and the character of the materials to be used in building the traveled way. These considerations, though numerous, are indeed only a part of those which have to be home in mind by the person who is responsible for the planning of such a work. Simple as the task of roadbuilding may seem to be, it is in fact more complicated than that which is encountered by the railway engineer. It demands something of the multifaviousness of considerations required in the architect’s art. In the construction of a highway say ten miles in length, designed to meet the needs of a rural community in a country of irregular surface, there are needed as much constructive knowledge and skill, and perhaps a larger grasp of complicated conditions than are demanded in planning a great building.

Perhaps the first question which the road-master has to consider is that concerning the width of the way he is to build. In this country, as well as in most of the states of Europe, the tendency is to make the road-bed a good deal wider than sound practice dictates. A part of the badness of our American roads is generally due to the fact that the trackway is far too wide to be effectively maintained. In this, as in many other of the grosser arts, we may well take a lesson from the ancient Romans, perhaps the earliest skillful roadmakers in the world. They invariably built their road-beds with no more width than was sufficient to permit two wagons conveniently to pass each other. In general, the paved portion of their ways, even those which were most frequented, did not exceed fourteen feet in width. They were, indeed, much narrower than those which are commonly found in our country districts. Our American ideas of largeness demand a road-bed from eighteen to twenty feet in width, bordered on either side by a waste of land forming a useless kind of common, and having an aggregate width of from twenty to eighty feet. This selvage of untilled territory, which is often worse than worthless, because it becomes a nest and nursery of weeds, is frequently maintained beside our best constructed ways. The demand for this waste room beside the highway is due to a tradition founded in a time before any effort had been made to provide any artificial support in the way of a road-bed. In those olden days it was very convenient, and indeed often necessary, to turn aside from the ruts which had been cut axle-deep in the unprotected earth, to seek an untrodden field on either side. The loss of good arable land arising from the unnecessary width of the highway and its fringes often amounts to as much as four acres in area for the mile in length ; and in some parts of the country more than one per cent of the tillage value of the region is thus, in obedience to an absurd tradition, deprived of all utility.

The nature of the traffic which is to go over a highway is an important element in determining both the width and character of the construction. The main point to be ascertained is the number, weight, and width of the carriages of all kinds which are to traverse the way. If the traffic is likely to be large, the road will need greater width and more strength near its margins than where it is to serve the need of but few vehicles. The solitary driver may be trusted to take the middle of the way; horses, indeed, incline to do so of their own motion : thus the marginal wearing of the road will be limited to those points where vehicles pass each other, and the whole amount of such wearing will be inconsiderable. Where, however, the carriages are numerous, they often drive in parallel lines, the outer wheel of each column on the margin of the road-bed. Moreover, a considerable difference in the width of roads is required by the length of axles which are in use. Farmvehicles, in most parts of this country, are now tending toward shorter distance between the wheels than of old. There is, however, a great variety in this regard, Thus the light carriages in use in Barnstable and Dukes counties, Massachusetts, have axles about eight inches longer than those which are found near Boston. Therefore a well-devised road from that city to any point on Cape Cod would properly be sixteen inches wider at its southern than at its northern end.

The weight which is carried on vehicles in well-paved cities is prevailingly very much greater than that which is borne upon the wagons in the open country, and this for the simple reason that the roads are better in the towns than in the rural parts. Yet in our country communities the amount of heavy traffic varies over a wide scale. Where the farming industry provides large amounts of heavy products, such as grain, cotton, or tobacco, materials of which the price is sufficiently great to permit of distant carriage to railway or river, the roads are sure to be taxed by very destructive wagons. On the other hand, where, as in New England, the principal marketed products are from the dairy or the market-garden, the average load upon the wagons may not be one third as great as it would be if they carried the crops above mentioned. The discreet road-master will reckon for the maximum weight on four wheels which his roadway will have to sustain, and on that basis he will determine the required strength of the platform which he has to maintain.

A large part of the trouble with American roads arises from the absurd narrowness of the tire or bearing part of our wagon - wheels. It was probably from considerations of economy, in the days when iron was high - priced, that the American people, as if by common consent, adopted excessively narrow tires. If this unhappy fashion was due to this motive, it was certainly “ penny wise and pound foolish ” in a measure which is rarely to be found among rational people. Some argument may be made for the use of a narrow rim to a wheel where the roads could have the hardness of granite blocks, but in our ordinary American conditions a wagon carrying the weight of a ton upon its bearing points must be regarded as an instrument of destruction. At the very best, a wagon-wheel is a millstone with the road-bed for its grist, and the measure of the damage which it indicts is, the weight being equal, inversely proportional to the width of the tire. We may see in the arastra, of the Spanish miner or the common pug-mill of the brickmaker how effective is the continuous action of the wheel in grinding up rocky matter of varied hardness. The dust on a common macadamized road tells the story with equal clearness. But little of this waste comes from the horses’ feet; the most is ground up by the wheels. On account of this destructive effect of the wheel, it is necessary to secure the smoothest and hardest surface which can be obtained for it to move over.

The ideal surface for the wheel is that which is obtained in the continuous steel bar of a well-constructed railway. The aim in the common road is as nearly as possible to approach the conditions which are afforded by such a track. Every irregularity of the surface on which the wheel bears, whether it be on the axle or the tire, is an element of cost, and is inevitably found in the hill for repairs, whether it come on town or private account. A pebble in the road over which the wagon has to be lifted requires an expenditure of power in traction to win the height, and when the wheel falls it strikes the roadway like a trip-hammer, damaging road and wagon alike. In the present or any probable state of our road-making art, it appears to be impossible to give wagons the conditions of a metal tramway. We have to approach this ideal as best we may by making the tracks of some stony material found near the line of the road, and convertible, at small cost, into suitable foundations for the highway.

The accumulated experience of more than a century serves to show that only in rare cases can we find conditions where the materials of the soil or of the subsoil are fit for the construction of roads. The reason for this is simple. It is found in the fact that the processes which affect the earth’s surface and produce the débris suited to the uses of plants tend to divide the rocky matter into more or less distinctly rounded bits which have soft outer surfaces. Whenever the shearing strain of a wheel is brought upon this detrital matter, the particles generally move over each other, so that the greater part of the pulling force which is applied to the vehicle is expended in a kind of ploughing work, a task which is about as far removed from the legitimate business of traversing a way as can well be imagined. The best exemplification of this class of actions is found where a road is floored with gravel. We can there clearly see and hear the effects of the shearing action which the wheel produces on the materials, and from this example we more readily perceive that the first object of the road-maker is to keep the substances which form the bed firmly in place. In cities he may attain this end by paving with blocks of stone or brick, or by covering his roads with a cemented material like asphalt. The Romans adhered to the principle of pavement composed of blocks, in all their important great ways. But these types of construction are impracticable in country districts on account of the great cost which they entail; and they are, moreover, damaging to the feet of horses when they are moving at a faster rate than a walk. Road engineers, therefore, have come to the conclusion that the staple or standard foundation for roads must consist of broken stone, the angular faces of the fragments so driven together that they will cling unmoved under any pressure which vehicles will bring upon them. Whatever be the variations on the theme, the plan of foundation made of angular bits of stone, and named " macadam,”from the man who first brought it into extensive use, seems to be firmly fixed in our system of road construction. Upon this foundation of coarse material a superstructure for the contact with the wheel can be made in different ways, according to the needs and conditions to which the roadmaster has to adapt his work.

So great and so extreme are the variations in the conditions which limit the constructive work involved in road-making that this field of activity must ever be classed with the labors of the architect, and not with those of the mere builder. In time it will come to be perceived that the construction of highways demands a range of knowledge and a capacity for adapting means to ends which are required in but few of the branches of engineering. The range and scope of the problems are clearly greater than those which have to be dealt with by the railway engineer. If we take into account only the discretion which has to be exercised in the choice of road materials from among the various rock formations which the country near to the way may afford, we perceive at once how wide and full the knowledge of the road-master needs to be. Thus, in New England, it is rare indeed to find that a reasonably good choice has been made from the resources which the varied geology affords, and rarer still that the constructor wisely combines the substances which are at his disposition. To most of the men a rock is a rock, and even experience seldom tells them the difference in the value of the substances in road-making. With such men whims often take the place of knowledge, and the untutored man may amuse himself by efforts to mend a road with scraps of leather, with much resulting damage to the feet of horses from the nails which this waste commonly contains ; or he may satisfy his limited desires for betterment by scraping the mud from the gutters into the cradle-holes which the wheels have formed in the trackway.

Properly to construct or repair a highway demands an intimate knowledge of the geology of the country which it traverses. If the under-structure of the earth, as is usual, varies much in character, there is certain to be a great choice in the materials which may be made to serve in road-making. Some of these may prove, under the action of frost and rain, totally unserviceable, though their general aspect and momentary character may appear exactly suited to the end in view. Others, though soft on first exposure, rapidly become compact and enduring through a process of hardening which resembles that which takes place in good mortar. Here, as elsewhere in the road-maker’s art, we find that he needs to be a naturalist; or, in other words, he must have a keen sense of the variety of conditions in the world about, him. Although something of this sense may be born in men, we cannot trust to chance for discretion, but must seek to attain it by education.

Many of the worst roads in this country are brought into their abject state by an unreasonable interference with natural processes, — an interference which arises from an ignorant prepossession that all roads should have the same general aspect. Thus, in sandy regions, such as those in southeastern Massachusetts, and in many other districts near the southern margin of the area occupied by the ice during the last glacial period, the first wagon-roads belonged to the class which we may call trackways, in which the path was just wide enough for a single vehicle, with occasional turn-outs to permit wagons to pass each other. On these trackways a single pair of parallel ruts were quickly formed, the growth of bushes and low forest trees pressing so close to the roadway as to form a wall of foliage on either side. In many cases the crease made by the hubs of the wagons could be distinctly traced in the thick-set. vegetation. Roads of this description afforded excellent wheeling, and were maintained almost without cost. The falling leaves and small branches were swept into the ruts, and there mingled with the sand, forming a compact and elastic foundation for the wheels. The sandy soil permitted the rain-water quickly to drain away, so that no gutters were required. Although an unreasoning desire for improvement has led to the widening of almost all these old-fashioned trackways, we may here and there find bits of them which have escaped the merciless hand of the uneducated road-master. The present writer is accustomed frequently to pass over a stretch of road which was originally all of this nature ; but a part of it has been altered to the regulation width of forty feet, while another portion remains in its primitive state. On the improved road the constantly shifting sands are not readily to be passed over by a pair of swift horses drawing a light wagon at a greater rate than six miles an hour. On the more ancient and natural type of way it is easy to attain twice that speed. The horses themselves know the difference in the quality of the roads, and adjust their pace to the conditions.

The foregoing account of the roadmaker’s art, though a most incomplete sketch of its conditions, will serve to show the reader that this field of activity is not one which can be advantageously cultivated by ignorant men, whatever be their natural capacities, or the measure of the experience which they may have derived from a wise use of their blunders. This art demands a wide and well-founded training. It must rest, indeed, upon a good knowledge of several natural sciences. No amount of general determination to improve our conditions in this economic field will be fruitful unless we provide our communities with men who are well trained for the work which is to be done. Unless provision is at once made to educate road-masters, the present access of interest in this art will lead inevitably to a vast array of costly mistakes which will be likely to discourage our people, and to lead them to the conviction that their new estate is worse than the old. At present there are probably not fifty engineers in the United States who have been properly trained for the work of constructing highways. There may be several times this number who are more or less satisfactorily expert in constructing city streets; but that particular task, though difficult enough, is, as compared with that which the ruralhighway engineer has to take up, of a relatively simple nature. Few, if any, of our engineering-schools pay any particular attention to this science and art. The question of common ways is treated incidentally, and with no emphasis at all commensurate with its importance. There is practically no effort made to develop specialists in this profession.

The first step towards our new dispensation is to persuade our greater schools to undertake the systematic education of road-masters, giving to the task the same care which they devote to the preparation of young men for railway or hydraulic engineering. There is reason to hope that the schools of this class which have generally shown admirable alacrity in responding to public demands will quickly meet this. The Lawrence Scientific School of Harvard University has already arranged for the services of an instructor in this department, who will devote all his teaching to matters connected with road construction. It is proposed to accumulate a sufficient collection of models and other apparatus to illustrate the teaching in the laboratory, while the manifold experiments in the methods of construction exhibited in eastern Massachusetts can be used as object lessons. If a dozen of our engineering-schools in different parts of the country will provide similar systematic and continuous instruction, we may hope, in the course of four or five years, to graduate trained road - masters who are well informed in the science and art of their profession.

The next question for the reformer in the matter of road-building concerns the method by which the work of construction, improvement, and repair can be insured against the evils of ignorance. There is an old adage to the effect that it is one thing to lead a horse to water, and quite another to make him drink. Where ancient manners and customs, however bad, are to be modified, we must expect difficulty, and be prepared to move on the lines of least resistance. If we trust to the present desire to improve our roads under the existing methods of control, we cannot expect much amelioration. We must find some way in which well-informed authority can so direct the work as to assure a satisfactory result. It is obviously out of the question to look to the federal government for any considerable aid in this work. The Geological Survey is now providing, through its excellent topographical maps, something which may serve as a geographic foundation in planning the vast number of new roads which are to be constructed to meet the needs of our increasing population. To the same survey we may also turn for accurate studies and accounts of the road-materials of the country. It is evident that our state governments are the largest units of a legislative or administrative nature from which we can reasonably expect direct help. Even in these commonwealths, it may prove desirable to limit the action of the central authority to furnishing information to the several counties or towns. Where, as in Massachusetts, and prevailingly in New England, the counties are large, it may prove advantageous to have a state board of road engineers, one of whom shall represent the commonwealth, and one for each of the several counties. These officers, sitting together, could adopt regulations adapted to the State as a whole, or to its several natural divisions; and in their own bailiwicks they could control the methods of construction adopted by the towns or other municipalities.

So strong is the noble motive of selfgovernment, even in those communities which least recognize its existence, that we must expect a certain amount of resistance against even so much of an invasion into the ancient privileges of a people. If the condition of highways were a matter of importance only to the inhabitants of the town within whose limits they lie, the discreet reformer would hesitate to make this trespass; but such is the measure of interaction among our population that in many, if not in most cases, the highways of our municipalities of any grade are as much used by those who dwell without their borders as by their own inhabitants. Moreover, from a certain point of view we may fairly hold that the State has a right to protect its people so far as it can against the vile, discriminating taxation which bad highways inflict.

There is reason to hope that the advance in our methods of road construction will take place with exceeding rapidity, provided we guard the existing movement against the dangers of ignorant enthusiasm. As soon as, in any town, a few miles of good rural highway have been constructed, we may trust to the quick-witted nature of our people to extend the system. We see the same contagion of example, to which we may trust, in the ready imitation which is made in the edifices of our communities. It requires but a few years for good or evil in architecture to traverse a wide field. It is, therefore, the more clearly important that our first essays in the way of better roads should be undertaken as advisedly as possible, that they should represent the utmost which knowledge can do for us. If we but proceed in this way, we may fairly hope to avoid serious blunders with our innovations, and within the lifetime of a generation we may reckon on winning gains of great social as well as economic value.

Nathaniel Southgate Shaler.