to sleep as
the dollar. But, as the actor of melodrama falls far below the finished
tragedian, the heroes of the Street, typified by Mr Lawson, are mere
bunglers compared with the greatest millionaire on earth--John D.
Rockefeller. We would no more give him the poor title of "Mr" than we
would give it to Shakespeare. Even "Rockefeller" seems too formal for
his grandeur. Plain "John D." is best suited to express the admiration
of his worshippers, the general fame that shines like a halo about his
head. He is Plutus in human guise; he is Wealth itself, essential and
concrete. A sublime unselfishness has marked his career. He is a true
artist, who pursues his art for its own sake. Money has given him
nothing. He asks nothing of her. Yet he woos her with the same devotion
which a lover shows to his mistress. Like other great men, Rockefeller
has concentrated all his thoughts, all his energies, upon the single
object of his desire. He has not chattered of things which he does
not understand, like Mr Carnegie. He has resolutely refrained from
Mr Lawson's melodramatic exaggeration. Money has been the god of
his idolatry,--"_Dea Moneta_, Queen Money, to whom he daily offers
sacrifice, which steers his heart, hands, affections--all."

His silence and his concentration give him a picturesqueness which his
rivals lack. He stands apart from the human race in a chill and solitary
grandeur. He seeks advertisement as little as he hankers after pleasure.
The Sunday-school is his dissipation. A suburban villa is his palace. He
seldom speaks to the world, and when he breaks his habit of reticence it
is to utter an aphorism, perfect in concision and cynicism. "Avoid all
honorary posts that cost time"--this was one of his earliest counsels
to the young. "Pay a profit to nobody" is perhaps his favourite maxim.
"Nothing is too small, for small things grow," is another principle
which he formulated at the outset of his career. "I have ways of making
money that you know nothing of," he once told a colleague, and no one
will doubt the truth of his assertion. It is said that when he was
scarce out of his teens he would murmur, with the hope of almost
realised ambition, "I am bound to be rich, bound to be rich, bound to be
rich." He imposed upon all those who served him the imperative duty of
secrecy. He was unwilling that any one should know the policy of the
Trust. "Congress and the State legislature are after us," he once said.
"You may be su