Fisk. Gould was all brain and nerve, Fisk all drive and muscle. Although quiet, imperturbable and indisposed to confidences, Mr. Gould's expression was by no means unpleasant. On the contrary he was, in a sense, companionable. He was extremely fond of home comforts and never permitted business to interfere with his two o'clock dinner or his afternoon drive. In manner he was kind and gentle. Never averse to give an opinion, unless it interfered with a plan, he was careful not to obtrude one. He was not accessible to strangers for obvious reasons, but his family and friends testify to the unvarying courtesy of his manner and the rare beauty of his temper. He was always more or less troubled with sleeplessness and often paced the floor, tearing letters or papers to bits, as he thought out schemes for making money. Making money was his passion. He was not ostentatious in living and spent comparatively little. He rarely put his name on subscription papers and, justly or not, he did not enjoy the reputation of liberality. He was often seen in the park with his wife, his son or driver, and invariably looked straight ahead. He ate moderately and never drank wine save at dinner. Now and then he attended the opera, and in the days of Sweeny and Tweed would occasionally join them in the recesses of a private box. Mr. Gould was not exactly a selfish man. He was too intelligent to hate and too unsympathetic to love very strongly. He produced the impression of extreme intellectuality; indeed,
