CHAPTER XXI

CONFIDENCE AND GREATNESS

Confidence, I have said, is, in the production of economic wealth,

the vitalizing element. In economics it plays the part that faith

plays in religion. Confidence and credit have like derivations, like

connotations. Confidence is a confiding in, credit a believing in. But,

we must ask, a confiding or believing in what? Confidence, the spirit

of economic prosperity, is distinct from what is called Lombard Street

credit. Confidence is vastly more potent than Lombard Street credit.

If confidence be dead Lombard Street credit cannot of itself revive

it. But confidence can revive Lombard Street credit. When the nation

is prostrate and languid confidence alone can revivify it. It is the

economic tonic.

In the money article it would excite derision if we wrote: “In Lombard

Street to-day confidence was again in superabundant supply, and lenders

were offering it on nominal terms. Confidence over the night could be

obtained in liberal quantity from 1½ per cent. downwards, and for a

week at no more than 1¾ per cent. In fact, balances of confidence were

unlendable. Owing to the cheapness of confidence the discount market

was again exceedingly weak, and rates continued to fall.”

Yet, it is said, we have built up in this country a vast superstructure

of confidence, or belief, based on a slight foundation of gold.

Now there may be in Lombard Street, and often is, a vast amount of

“credit,” but merchants and the public have not the confidence to use

it. Why? To quote Mr. Withers: “Credit depends on the assumption that

goods produced will come to market and be sold and that securities that

are based on the earning power of production will fetch a price on

the exchanges of the world.” In other words, if we have no confidence

in the future, we are afraid to spend our money. So we eke it out, or

hoard it, or practise thrift and live in misery. And if we cease to buy

we cease to consume, production diminishes, goods perish in markets,

and men are thrown out of employment.

When we say the credit of the British Government stands high, we do

not mean that the credit-money of the Government has a high value, or

price. We mean that confidence in the British Government--that is, in

the British nation--is exceedingly strong. When, therefore, foreigners

buy British Consols they buy them because they know they can have

strong confidence in British wealth and British character: not because

our joint stock banks have high gold reserves, nor because London is

the world’s banker and a free market for gold. Foreigners know that

our gold reserves are insignificant compared with the gold reserves of

the leading continental countries, but they know that Great Britain is

the richest and the _greatest_ country in the world, and the British

Empire the richest and greatest empire the world has seen.

Confidence, therefore, is based ultimately upon _greatness_, and

our greatness as a nation and an empire was never more strikingly

demonstrated and vindicated than during the war crisis. Greatness can

exist, therefore, apart from gold reserves.

Let us look back upon the years preceding the crisis. Let us go back

to the American crisis in 1907. This crisis was the result of a lack

of confidence in America’s economic and moral greatness. It was the

result of scandalous dishonesty, the kind of dishonesty that we know

to be impossible in this country. Yet London could not but be shaken

by the panic there. London was, indeed, shaken by it more than by the

crisis last August. The United States took gold from London in huge

quantities at a loss, and the Bank of England rate, in order to try to

stop these exports, had to be raised to a high figure for an indefinite

time. Some of our banks were even accused of assisting the United

States to the hurt of our own banking position. But the storm was faced

and weathered. Years before then it had faced and weathered another

great storm in the Baring crisis. These historical happenings show how

mightily strong is that superstructure we have raised in our midst,

whether it be a structure of paper or of iron.

Then came the Morocco crisis, which was the beginning of the Stock

Exchange depression, and which has culminated in the European war.

When I speak of Stock Exchange depression I distinguish it from trade

depression, for depression on the Stock Exchange often coincides with

trade activity. The Morocco crisis brought the fear of war upon the

world. If Germany was prepared one day to fight she began to make

financial preparations for it. There can be little doubt that she

prepared insidiously for this by depressing in recent years values on

the Stock Exchange, selling securities to weaken us and strengthen

herself. This culminated in the colossal selling weeks before the war,

and in the heavy purchases of gold in the London bullion market.

There were, however, other unhappy events. There were the revolution

in Mexico, the financial crises in Argentina and Brazil, the political

and financial crises in France, the Balkan wars, the labour upheavals

in South Africa, the epidemic of strikes in this country, the failure

of the Birkbeck Bank, the Home Rule crisis, and the financial troubles

of our colonies and heavy borrowings on their part. One trouble quickly

followed another, peril succeeded peril, and never, perhaps, has the

world struggled amidst such political and financial trials. They were

years of darkness, and the dawn of a new and a brighter day seemed

remote. The nations were groping, knowing not what new peril would

confront them. Then the greatest peril of all came in the world-wide

catastrophe.

These constantly occurring troubles could not but gradually weaken

confidence in the future. When a man gropes his way in an impenetrable

fog, in a place strewn with snares and pitfalls, ignorant of his

whereabouts, knowing not whether he is progressing or going round in a

dangerous circle, he cannot feel confident of avoiding a fatal end. He

can trust only in hope and in his destiny.

This nation trusted in its destiny. Amidst these multiplying trials and

difficulties it trusted in the strength of its own soul. Therefore,

while prices were falling on the Stock Exchange, trade was growing and

booming. More capital for trade was needed. So wealth in the shape of

securities was turned into cash capital, which helped the downfall in

stocks and shares. There was no lack of confidence evidently in our

economic position and future. Our economic prosperity is not dependent

upon Stock Exchange speculation. The Stock Exchange has often boomed

and flourished during economic depression. This is because, when we

have idle capital or surplus, we gamble with it, or invest it, if we

cannot employ it profitably in business and commerce. We must never,

therefore, assume that when inactivity reigns on the Stock Exchange

and prices fall there, and stocks and shares become depreciated, that

the nation is losing confidence, and that economic stagnation has

come. If prices fall on the Stock Exchange through political and other

causes, and because merchants and others are turning securities into

cash, the aggregate value of the nation’s wealth may be rising and

accumulating far in excess of the depreciation on the Stock Exchange.

It is probable that this has been so in recent years. Banks, for

instance, have had to write down their investments year after year,

yet they have earned large profits and have easily maintained their

dividends. They could not have done this unless their losses in one

direction had been counterbalanced by their gains in another. So it has

been with other great financial institutions. They have easily kept out

of the bankruptcy court.

We have had a remarkable demonstration, then, of the power of

confidence even in recent years and in last year’s crisis. The

measures taken by the Government did not weaken that confidence, but

strengthened it.

Take the moratorium, the first real moratorium this country has

experienced. Had academic critics been told in the beginning of July

that war would break out in the beginning of August, and that the

Government would declare a moratorium, I believe they would unanimously

have predicted disaster, complete and irretrievable. If they foresaw

disaster as the certain end of a steady increase in armaments, nothing

short of the fall of the skies would follow a moratorium. Nothing would

more surely precipitate a panic, for if anything would bring about a

state of bewildering confusion it would be a moratorium.

Once again, then, the imaginative vigour of these prophets was

overrated. It was not equal to the strain of foreseeing the probable

effects of unexperienced causes. The position was tackled, not by

pedants, but by practical minds; not by nervous pedagogues, but by bold

experts. And the shallow-minded and timid amongst us were amazed. We

were veritably awe-stricken by the cool skill of our financial mariners

steering us in safety in the unchartered waters of an unknown sea.

The prolonged Bank holiday, the indefinite closing of the Stock

Exchange, were also decisions that in prior contemplation would have

filled with terror the hearts of pundits, who unhesitatingly would

have pronounced the doom of the mighty British Empire. The closing of

the Stock Exchange would, in their convictions, so have stricken down

confidence that it might never arise.

Then there was the subsequent arrangement made whereby those who had

made loans to the Stock Exchange could obtain from the Bank of England

advances up to 60 per cent. of the value of the securities held by the

lenders against loans outstanding on July 29th. The Bank of England

was not to press for the repayment of these advances until one year

after the conclusion of peace, or after the expiry of the Courts

(Emergency Powers) Act, 1914, whichever should happen first; nor would

it demand in the meantime further margin.

This arrangement has also been highly successful.

The fixing of minimum prices for high-class securities on the Stock

Exchange was another prudent step. It was artificial, but no one will

pretend that the position in this country and throughout the world

was a natural position. Measures of precaution and of defence were

as necessary to protect the financial as the military citadel. Were

they not taken, the consequences that might have followed might in

all probability have been immeasurably worse than the consequences

of restricted liberty. These minimum prices prevented attacks from

the enemy, and, therefore, destruction by the enemy. The defensive

position was greatly strengthened by the further restrictions imposed

by the Treasury when the Stock Exchange reopened. These were designed

to prevent wholesale selling by enemy countries and investors; and

capitalists in this country were thereby saved from the incalculable

losses such sales might have occasioned.

All the measures taken by the Government in this unprecedented crisis

must be tested by their success. Two or three years hence we shall be

able to survey them in clearer perspective and in truer proportion.

But we can say with assurance even now that they have been successful.

The real measure of that success we may calculate with greater

certainty some day.

The banking position and the banking system have stood calm amidst

it all. Even had the banks or the nation possessed that hypothetical

reserve advocated by some, and had it at hand in some safe corner of

London, this would not of itself have made the position more secure.

Other remedial or precautionary measures would still have had to be

taken. Had it not been the particular measures that were actually

conceived and taken, there would have been others. But we happened to

be fortunate in the measures that were adopted, measures that deepened

and strengthened the nation’s confidence.

The war and our financial fabric · 第 21 / 23 章