Mr Walter Thornbury makes a brave and ingenious attempt to explain “the mystery still shrouding the great Fauntleroy swindle,” and “to conjecture for what purpose the dishonest banker preserved in a private box so carefully a suicidal statement of his own misdoings.” His conclusion is that Fauntleroy invented the lie so it should not be thought that he had been influenced by motives of greed, but that as time went on he began actually to credit the untruth, and, treasuring the paper for conscience’ sake, was for years “buoyed up by the secret excuse of an absurd and illogical revenge.” It is only a want of lucidity that prevented Mr Thornbury from unshrouding the mystery, for the explanation--the key of which he held in his hand--is a simple one. There was method in Fauntleroy’s seeming madness. The document found in his private box, which gave a list of his forgeries, and contained the footnote explaining that his motive was revenge against the Bank, was dated May 7, 1816. It is notorious that never in her history was the Old Lady of Threadneedle Street so unpopular as at this time. For nearly twenty years she had borne the odium caused by the suspension of cash payments, and by the alarming depreciation of paper money. In like manner, the panic which overthrew so many provincial houses in 1814, 1815, and 1816 was ascribed to her envied monopoly; and her consequent prosperity, owing to the demand for Bank of England notes, helped to increase the widespread jealousy. Never had forger a more splendid shield than Henry Fauntleroy. Although he had hoped and believed that the proceeds of his first frauds would enable his firm to weather the financial storm, yet if Nemesis should overtake him before he had struggled through the slough, he was justified in supposing that the Board of Directors might hesitate to prosecute a man who would be hailed as a popular champion. Indeed, had his crime been as paltry as that of Henry Savary, it is quite probable that the public would have regarded him as an intrepid enemy of the Bank’s monopoly, and that a like storm which compelled the financial legislation of 1819 and 1825 might have saved him from the scaffold. Fate compelled him to overreach himself, or the crafty story of revenge might have been believed. NOTE V.--_The History of the Catnach Press._ By Charles Hindley (1886), p. 73. But for the indefatigable researches of this author we should know little of the immortal Jemmy, who, it must be remembered, was the Alfred Harmsworth of his day. NOTE VI.--_Dic. Nat. Biog._