Pawnbrokers’ shops, or loan banks, were established from motives of charity in the fifteenth century. Their object was to lend money to the poor upon pledges and without interest. Originally they were supported by voluntary contributions, but as these proved insufficient to pay expenses, it became necessary to charge interest for the money lent. These banks were first distinguished by the name of _montes pietatis_. The word _mont_ at this period was applied to any pecuniary fund, and it is probable that _pietatis_ was added by the promoters of the scheme, to give it an air of religion, and thus procure larger subscriptions. Well, these banks were not only called mounts of piety, but were known also as Lombards,[2] from the name of the original bankers or money-lenders. Now you see how it is pawnbrokers bear the sign of the goldsmiths. You who know so well where to place your money, both for interest and security, when you have any to spare, can scarcely understand the trouble and annoyance which our merchants and wealthy people experienced at having no place of security wherein they could deposit their money. At one time they sent it to the Mint in the Tower of London, which became a sort of bank, where merchants left their money when they had no need of it, and drew it out only as they wanted it; but this soon ceased to be a place of security. In 1640 Charles I., without leave asked or granted, took possession of £200,000 of the money lodged there. Great was the wrath of the merchants, who were compelled, after this unkingly act, to keep their surplus money at home, guarded by their apprentices and servants. Even here the money was not safe, for on the breaking out of the war between Charles and his Parliament, it was no uncommon occurrence for the apprentices to rob their masters and run away and join the army. When the merchants found that neither the public authorities nor their own servants were to be trusted, they employed bankers, and these bankers were goldsmiths. Many a tale, however, has reached me of the shifts and contrivances of people to secure their savings and surplus money—people whose experience had taught them to distrust both authorities and places, and who would not, under the new state of things, have anything to do with the bankers. One I will relate to you. A man whose life had been one of hard work and self-denial, and who had two or three times lost his all through the untrustworthiness of the people with whom he had lodged it, determined to be their dupe no more. Money began once more to accumulate, and all things prospered with him; but no one could imagine what he did with it; as far as his household could tell, he did not deposit it with anyone outside the house, neither could they discover any place within where it was possible to stow it away. No persuasion could move the man to speak one word concerning it.