In our loose and indefinite way--as a result, maybe, of our defective vision--we talk of a vast superstructure of credit erected on a tiny gold basis. We gaze upon this mighty fabric and shake our heads ominously. As we gaze we see the structure grow, extending upwards and outwards, enlarging itself by some invisible and mysterious agency, and when we cast our gaze to the foundations we see that it looks like a towering edifice perched insecurely on a small, uneven piece of rock. No wonder we have feared that when storms break the whole crazy thing will come crashing down, scattering ruin and devastation in a vast area around it. It seems to us like a structure built by a madman, in defiance of the laws of architecture, and that there can be but one end, sooner or later, to so fantastic a fabric. So have we been told time and again that our superstructure of credit has been built only for fair weather and not for foul. Well, it has withstood much foul weather since the building of it commenced generations ago. Storms have beaten against it, and to the naked eye it has hardly swerved. The storms have made no rents in its walls, and it still stands, growing visibly, pointing its rising apex to the skies, and millions of people to this day--stolid, unimaginative Britishers, maybe--enter within its portals fearlessly and without suspicion of their peril. They heed not those who warn them that the whole thing may fall about their heads at any moment, that it needs but an earthquake, and all will be over in the twinkling of an eye. “Foolish people!” these architectural guardians of safety cry. “We have warned you, and you have heeded us not. Let your fate be upon your own heads. Let him who is guided by the feeble, confusing light of his own folly, suffer the doom of his folly. We, at least, have done our duty, bravely, like voices crying unto the lost multitude, drunk with its ignorance and conceit.” Well! well! Perhaps, after all, this superstructure may have no counterpart in reality. It may be but a fantastic dream, or nightmare, after all, yet seemingly so vivid to our fearsomeness that we find it almost impossible to believe that it can be but a creation of the imagination. Would it not be more accurate to say that we have erected in our midst a vast superstructure of wealth? And cannot we say that this superstructure is based, not upon a slight foundation of gold, but upon the solid wealth of the nation, the empire, the world? If it can be proved to our nervous eyes that this is the real superstructure, after all, and not the one we have seen in disturbing visions, perhaps we shall feel more secure against and less apprehensive of the force of storms. Let us look more closely at that balance sheet, for then we shall come into actual physical contact with the composition of this awe-striking structure. We will analyse the various ingredients which we shall describe as the assets of a bank.