hemselves. The man who makes a vast fortune by the
invention or manufacture of something which the people thinks it wants,
may easily take a pride in the fruit of his originality. The captains
of American industry can seldom boast this cause of satisfaction. It is
theirs to exploit, not to create. The great day in Mr Carnegie's life
was that on which "the mysterious golden visitor" came to him, as a
dividend from another's toil. Mr Rockefeller remembers with the greatest
pleasure the lesson which he learned as a boy, "that he could get as
much interest for $50, loaned at seven per cent, as he could earn by
digging potatoes ten days." The lesson of Shylock is not profound, but
its mastery saves a world of trouble. Combined with a light load of
scruples, it will fill the largest coffers; and it has been sufficient
to carry the millionaires of America to the highest pinnacle of fame.

In other words, the sole test of their success is not their achievement,
but their money-bags. And when, with cynical egoism, they have collected
their unnumbered dollars, what do they do with them? What pleasures,
what privileges, does their wealth procure? It is their fond delusion
that it brings them power. What power? To make more money and to defy
the laws. In England a wealthy man aspires to found a family, to play
his part upon the stage of politics, to serve his country as best he
may, and to prepare his sons for a like honourable service. The American
millionaire does not share this ambition. Like Mr Rockefeller, he avoids
"honorary posts." If he were foolish enough to accept them, he would
not be loyal to the single desire of adding to his store. Perhaps we may
best express his triumph in terms of champagne and oysters, of marble
halls and hastily gathered collections. But even here the satisfaction
is small. The capacity of the human throat is limited, and collections,
made by another and partially understood, pall more rapidly than
orchid-houses and racing-stables.

This, then, is the tragedy of the American multi-millionaires. They are
doomed to carry about with them a huge load of gold which they cannot
disperse. They are no wiser than the savages, who hide and hoard their
little heaps of cowrie-shells. They might as well have filled their
treasuries with flint-stones or scraps of iron. They muster their wealth
merely to become its slave. They are rich not because they possess
imagination, but because they lack it. Their bank-bo