IT'S 1861. Victoria is on the throne, and will be widowed when Albert dies from typhoid fever in December. Across the Atlantic, the Americans are fighting each other and Lincoln will become 16th president.

Here at home, Palmerston is Prime Minister with, as Chancellor of the Exchequer, one William Ewart Gladstone.

Gladstone has seen banks collapse and public confidence in financial institutions shaken (no change there, then). To restore confidence and encourage even the smallest of savers, he introduces the Post Office Savings Bank.

Eventually, the "post office book" became a familiar sight in virtually every home. I had one from birth, a buff-covered book with red lettering and "the property of the postmaster general".

I remember how proud I was, at the age of seven, to be allowed to sign my name on the first page, in the careful round-hand inculcated by an infant teacher who believed in pothooks and hangers. I still have that book though it was superseded by a blue, plastic-covered version.

There were still 13m passbooks around, said the National Savings and Investments spokesman whose Saturday peace I invaded, but only 2.7m were "active" accounts and 10m others contained less than £10. Many lie forgotten in drawers and cupboards, surfacing only as relatives clear the house when the account-holder dies.

Times and money have changed and, after 143 years, it's goodbye, old friend. What is now National Savings and Investments has this week closed Mr Gladstone's baby to new investors. By July 31, existing customers must move to the new Easy Access account or take their money elsewhere.

Easy access because, although it means yet another plastic card to lose and PIN to forget, it can be operated by post, telephone, cash machines or, like the passbook, at 15,000 post offices. If you can't manage the keypads now installed at post office counters, sub-postmasters are trained to cope, I'm assured.

The good news is that the interest is better and rises in stages; the maximum investment is up from £10,000 to £2m (in your dreams) and there is no need to send to Glasgow to have interest added.

The bad news is that the minimum balance is £100; that the first £70 of interest is no longer tax-free and, owing to the access to cash machines, under-11s can't join and the account they can now use needs a month's notice of a withdrawal.

If you have a passbook and NS and I knows your current address, it'll write but, given 10.3m dormant accounts, there could be hordes of householders receiving letters for the last occupant but several. "We're not going to reach them all," said NS and I's spokesman rather mournfully.

It's nearly spring-cleaning time. See what turns up at the back of a drawer.