This is William Cobbett's Old Lady of Threadneedle Street, whose
rickety constitution and failing powers--according to that bold and
blundering financier--betokened almost immediate dissolution more
than a quarter of a century ago. Other men, less dominated by
unreasoning prejudice than the author of the 'Political Register,'
deceived themselves into the same notion; and it is very possible
that there are even now persons who hold the faith as it was in
Cobbett--just as we are told in one of Mr Disraeli's novels, that
the Greek mythology is still the creed of a fragment of humanity
existing somewhere in the mountains of Syria. At all events, since
the late Sir Robert Peel placed it beyond the power of the governor
and company to indulge in dangerous or erratic courses, it is
abundantly manifest that to doubt of the perfect stability of the
Bank of England is tantamount to questioning the infallibility of
arithmetic. In the vaults and coffers of this huge establishment
there is at present--as we learn from the published weekly-returns,
a device of Sir Robert's--the bewildering amount of between
L.14,000,000 and L.15,000,000 sterling in gold and silver!--a sum of
which the figures glide smoothly and glibly enough off the pen or
tongue, but a mass of treasure, nevertheless, that few persons can
realise to themselves a distinct and accurate conception of. And
yet--and what an idea does the fact present of the multitudinous
resources, the unrivalled industry, the latent power of this
country!--all that heap of precious metals, all that is besides in
circulation, with the addition of the bank-note currency, is
comparatively nothing when weighed against the true and real
exchangeable wealth of Great Britain; wealth of which this coined
and convertible paper-money is merely the standard sign of value,
the recognised medium by which all things are bartered.
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