I am a hero worshiper; an insatiable devourer of biographies; and I say
that no man in all the splendid list ever equaled Edmund Stonewall. You
smile because you have never heard his name, for, until now, his
biography has not been written. And this is not truly a biography; it is
only the story of the crowning event in Stonewall's career.

Really it humbles one's pride of race to see how ignorant the world is of
its true heroes. Many a man who cuts a great figure in history is, after
all, a poor specimen of humanity, slavishly following old ruts, destitute
of any real originality, and remarkable only for some exaggeration of the
commonplace. But in the case of Edmund Stonewall the world cannot be
blamed for its ignorance, because, as I have already said, his story
remains to be written, and hitherto it has been guarded as a profound
secret.

I do not wish to exaggerate; yet I cannot avoid seeming to do so in
simply telling the facts. If Stonewall's proceedings had become
Matter of common knowledge the world would have been--I must speak
plainly--revolutionized. He held in his hands the means of realizing the
wildest dreams of power, wealth, and human mastery over the forces of
nature, that any enthusiast ever treasured in his prophetic soul. It was
a part of his originality that he never entertained the thought of
employing his advantage in any such way. His character was entirely free
from the ordinary forms of avidity. He cared nothing for wealth in
itself, and as little for fame. All his energies were concentrated upon
the attainment of ends which nobody but himself would have regarded as of
any practical importance. Thus it happened that, having made an invention
which would have put every human industry upon a new footing, and
multiplied beyond the limits of calculation the activities and
achievements of mankind, this extraordinary person turned his back upon