to remember how painful it
is sometimes to keep money as well as to get it, and how doubtful I was
to keep it all night, and how to secure it to London.

"About ten o'clock, took coach, my wife and I, and Willett and W. Hewer,
and Mumford and Bowles (whom my lady sent me to go along with me my
journey, not telling her the reason, but it was only to secure my gold),
and my brother John on horseback; and with these four I thought myself
pretty safe. My gold I put into a basket, and set it under one of the
seats; and so my work every quarter of an hour was to look to see
whether all was well; and I did ride in great fear all the day.
12th.--By five o'clock got home, and did bring my gold to my heart's
content very safe, having not this day carried it in a basket, but in
our hands; the girl took care of one, and my wife of another bag, and I
the rest, I being afraid of the bottom of the coach lest it should
break." Such is Mr. Pepys' story.

"Nor light nor darkness brings his pains relief:
One shows the plunder, and one hides the thief."

Mr. Crabbe has portrayed the marvel of an honest inhabitant of
Aldborough, when first he learnt, in his graphic phrase, "that money
would breed,"--that it could afford to pay yearly interest. Shakespeare
has several references to the fact. Shylock, and a clown in 'Twelfth
Night' making very quaint allusions. I shall only add one more tale from
Mr. S. Trench's late stories of 'Realities of Irish Life.' A neighbour,
who had saved two hundred pounds in gold, kept it in the thatch of his
roof. One day he appeared before Mr. Trench bearing his gold, and
requesting him to be his depositee, expressing the comfort it would
afford him. Mr. Trench declined the unprofitable duty, and pointed out
to him the bank, which would accept his deposit and give him interest.
The eye of Patrick flashed with intelligence and foresight as he warned
Mr. Trench from the delusion of banks, which every year wasted the
original sum by paying the stipend, and when you wished to reclaim the
original, lo, it had disappeared. No, no, he would have no dividend,
forsooth, to eat away his capital; which he bore back again (about five
pounds' weight) and replaced it in his thatch. It was neither lost nor
wasted there; it became the inheritance of his only daughter, a woman of
extreme energy, who had from childhood loved--more, methinks, as a
mother loves a helpless child--a good-hearted, unvicious piece of
indolen