slippery descent, at the bottom of which lies bankruptcy--ruin! But
these are ordinary downfalls, by the wrecks of which the busy haunts
of commercial enterprise are paved; and we have other places to look
in at. Before leaving the Bank, however, let us step a few paces to
the left of the chief entrance. Now who would believe that in the
very midst of this Mammon-temple, where space is of incalculable
value, a large plot of greensward should have been jealously
preserved, from which spring two fine elms, that from out the heat
and turmoil of the place lift up their fresh leaves to the
sky--bright, waving leaves, that as often as the sun kisses them,
laugh out in sparkling triumph over the heated, anxious, jaded
toilers and schemers below? Yet so it is.

Again in Threadneedle Street, and turning to the left, we reach, at
the termination of the Bank-front, Bartholomew Lane, famous for
nothing that I am aware of, save Capel Court, situate at about the
centre, on the right-hand side. At the end of Capel Court is the
Stock-Exchange, within whose sacred precincts subscribers only, and
their clerks, may enter--a regulation strictly enforced by the
liveried guardian at the door. But you can hear enough of the
stentorian gabble going on within where we now are. Hark! 'A
thousand pounds' consols at 96-3/4-96-1/2.' 'Take 'em at 96-1/4,' is
the vociferous reply of a buyer. 'Mexican at 27-1/2-27; Portuguese
fours at 32-7/8-32-1/2; Spanish fives at 21; Dutch two-and-halfs at
50-1/2-50-1/4:' and so roars on the distracting Babel till the hour
for closing strikes. Much of this business is no doubt
legitimate--the _bonâ fide_ sale and purchase of stock by the
brokers, for which they charge their clients the very moderate
commission of 2s. 6d. per L.100. The ruinous gambling of the
Stock-Exchange is another matter, and is chiefly carried on by