hump-back made a little fortune by hiring the use of it as a desk, for the financial operations of the multitude. The street must have been a lively one in every sense of the word. The pickpocket naturally follows the crowd, and the Rue de Guincampoix became the grand scene of petty larceny. Other adjuncts of the dissipation of a great capital followed; and at length the soldiery were found necessary to keep the street clear at nightfall. The whimsicality of this scene was still carried on, when Law, for the purpose of preventing the tumult, removed to the Place Vendome. The brokers and buyers flocked after him, and the square presented the appearance of a place of public festivity. Tents were erected for the transaction of business, and the sale of refreshments; gaming-tables were of course among the ornaments of the scene, and the Place Vendome was the grand lounge of Paris. From this position he removed again, and only with the effect of exhibiting the grotesque frenzy of the people in a stronger light. The Chanceilor of France, whose court was in the Place Vendome, had complained of the perpetual noise as disturbing his court. Law, who was in all probability wearied with it himself, acceded to the wish of this high functionary, and took the Hotel Soissons, a large mansion, in a more retired situation, and with a garden of several acres in the rear. The hotel belonged to the Prince de Langnan, whose conduct showed that a capital specu lator had been thrown away, when he was born a prince. In selling the house to Law, which was done at an enormous price, the prince dexterously reserved the garden for himself. Immediately afterwards, an edict was issued, however obtained, prohibiting the sale of stock any where but in the gardens of the hotel. The prince let out his privilege to a handsome purpose. Nearly five hundred small tents and pavilions were immediately erected for the mingled purposes of trade and festivity. In France, every thing on which a riband can be hung, has its riband, and the tents were made as gay and glittering as possible. The Parisians crowded to the garden, and music, feasting, and making fortunes were the order of the day; but the prince was the substantial gainer. He let out his tents at the rate of five hundred livres a month; his monthly receipts were calculated at 250,000 livres, equal to ten thousand pounds sterling, or at the rate of £120,000 a-year. We doubt whether any prince on record made a better bargain than himself, or land was ever made so much of before. Of course the great magician, the master of the gold mine, the discoverer of this philosopher's stone, led a life of celebrity. Law was the true monarch of France. The regent could not command courtiership enough for a levee. Every body was at the "Court" of the Hotel de Soissons. Judges, Peers, and even Prelates, were seen duly and daily doing homage in his antechambers, and waiting the will of this new distributor of the grand matériel of power, luxury, and existence. Dukes and duchesses were too happy if they obtained a smile. It may be presumed that the humbler grades of society were not backward to enforce their claims when they saw the front rank on their knees. Six hours was an usual time of waiting for even a look of recogni- . tion, and the man who received a nod looked upon his fortune as made. His domestics had a fine season for their harvest too. Large sums were constantly poured into their ever open palms, simply for engaging them to announce the givers' names. The ladies of France, at no time remarkable for timidity in pursuing their objects, came round the great financier in such crowds, and 'solicited him for shares with such smiling perseverance, that he often declared that they were more formidable than all the battalions and squadrons of foot and horse which charged him from hour to hour. It is only astonishing that Law, who well knew the world, who, of course, knew that the bubble must burst, and who had no kind of scruple on the subject of personal appropriation, did not run away in the height of the frenzy, carry off half a dozen millions of livres, and seat himself in a German principality, or take wing for America, purchase half a continent, and anticipate the rebellion. But if farce could detain him, where could the earth show him any thing the hundredth part so farcical as the scene which he saw every day from his win dows? The grand object of life was, to find any mode of making way to M. Law. A lady who could discover no other means of introduction, ordered her coachman to overturn her carriage in front of his hotel. It was done, the lady was taken out fainting, and Law ordered her to be brought into the house. While he was in the act of sprinkling her face with essence, she sprang up, threw her arms round his neck, and insisted on her being put down for a share. Another lady, knowing where Law was engaged to dine, drove to the door, and gave the alarm of fire. The company rushed out, and Law among the rest, but soon discovering the trick, he made his escape, and left the fair engineer behind. The regent happened to mention in the presence of his minister his intention of sending a lady of the rank of a duchess to attend on his daughter at Madeira, adding: "But I do not know exactly where to find one." "Indeed!" observed one of the party, in affected surprise, "I can tell you where to find every duchess in France. Send to M. Law's, you will see every one of them in his antechamber." The rapidity with which those shares rose, was, like every thing else belonging to them, astonishing. A large holder, thinking himself dying, sent his servant to sell out 250 shares at 8000 livres, each, the price of that morning. The servant went, but by the time of his arrival at the Jardin de Soissons, they had risen 2000 livres each; the difference on the 250 shares being thus-500,000 livres, £20,000 sterling, with which he fled from France. The poor suddenly started into opulence. Law's coachman grew so wealthy, that he determined to be a servant no longer, and gave his master warning. His master desired him, before he left his place, to find him another coachman. In the evening, the fellow returned, bringing with him two candidates, and bidding Law "take his choice of them, as he intended to take the other himself." The details of this kind were numberless, as we may, well conceive, in a country where every thing excites every body, and where whim is the study of the nation. But, with the burlesque, was sometimes mingled atrocity, as might be expected among a multitude maddened by the passion for wealth, and gaining it in the most stimulating style. Paris had become one huge gaming-house, and, of course, had the passions of a gaminghouse. One affair of conspicuous barbarity attracted general attention. The Count d'Horn, a younger brother of the Prince d'Horn, and related to some of the first French families, connecting himself with Mille, an Italian officer, and Lestang, a Fleming, laid a plan to rob and murder a broker, who was known to carry India shares about his person. The contrivance was, to inveigle him to a low publichouse near the Place Vendome, and there plunder him. The unfortunate man came, induced by an appointment for the purchase of Indian shares; he was met by the confederates, and while he was conversing on the pretended purchase, the count threw himself upon him, and gave him three stabs of his poniard. The man fell expiring, on the ground. The count robbed his portfolio of Mississippi and Indian shares to the amount of 100,000 crowns, while the Italian, with brute ferocity, stabbed the dying man again and again. But he still struggled, until his cries brought persons to the spot. Lestang, who had been planted at a window to watch, leaped from it, and escaped. But the Count and Mille were seized in the fact. A crime of this dreadful order could not be passed over even in the most relaxed state of society, and the two assassins were brought to trial next day, and condemned to be broken on the wheel. The noble families to whom the count was related made the most powerful efforts to save him, but the regent was not to be moved. They next tried to avert the disgrace of a public execution. The regent answered in the fine phrase of Corneille, "Le crime fait la honte, et non pas l'échafaud." (The guilt, and not the scaffold, makes the shame.) The Duke de St Simon, a man of great influence, was then sent to represent to the regent, that in Germany, where the family had large possessions, no relative of an individual broken on the wheel could obtain any public office until a whole generation had passed away. He prayed for be heading, as less degrading. The Regent was inclined to yield. But Law urged him so strongly on the other side, that he determined not to interfere. The murderer must die like the lowest felon. Another attempt was made to evade this horrid sentence. The Prince de Robec Montmorency made his way to the dungeon, and offered the count poison, but the wretched culprit refused to drink it, and Montmorency contemptuously turned away, with the words, "Die, wretch, you are fit only for the hands of the hangman!" To all these remonstrances the regent gave a direct refusal, influenced by Law, who insisted that justice ought to be strictly done, and who probably thought that he was regarded as the especial representative of the moneyed interest, and therefore had a peculiar right to be heard on this occasion. Within six days from the murder, the Count and Mille were broken on the wheel; Lestang was never heard of. Portions of this national frenzy were so frivolous, that it is difficult to regard the matter as serious in any point of view. But the narrative is important, from its proof of the extraordinary influence which a sudden increase of the circulation may have upon a great country, and of the imminent hazards to which it exposes the people. The first effects of this redundancy of imaginary wealth were absolutely dazzling. Paris was said to increase its population by 350,000; such was the conflux of strangers, come to traffic, to spend, and to enjoy. By a natural consequence, the whole tribe of hotel-keepers were making fortunes; lodgings of all kinds were let at high prices, and the streets were suddenly so full of equipages, that, to prevent their running over each other, they were obliged to go at a foot pace. The manufacturers of lace, silk, velvet, and all the materials of luxury, found abundant customers in the new opulence of a nation with its hands full of paper; all were soon in full operation, and the prices rose fourfold. Provisions followed the rise of manufactures, as usual; the wages of labour followed the provisions; the man who had once gained fifteen sous a-day, now gained sixty; new buildings rose in all quarters, and land increased in value. Men suddenly found themselves ten times richer, fifty times, a hundred times, richer than they ever were before-yet none knew why. Luxury, ostentation, and extravagance, were universal. All were treading on paper, and bankruptcy was below-the great gulf ready to swallow them all. Law, as might be presumed, was not the last to profit by the national frenzy. He bought two great estates in the provinces, and was in treaty for the marquisate of Rasny. The regent now offered to make him comptroller-general of the finances, but his Protestantism stood in the way. Law soon determined that it should be no obstacle, and the wretched man apostatized, and was received into the Popish arms by the Abbe de Teucin, in the cathedral of Melun, with appropriate pomp. His first honour, however, was the churchwardenship of St Roch, for which he paid with princely liberality; his donation on this occasion amounting to 500,000 livres. This scandalous conversion was remembered afterwards, and produced the following jeu-d'esprit, and probably hundreds better and worse. "Foin de ton zele seraphique, Malheureux Abbe de Teucin, But left all France a Capucin" the poverty of the Capucins being a part of their vows; and France being soon very much in the same condition. All the nobility were gamesters in this stock, but all were not sufferers. Some even made large sums-among the rest the Duke de Bourbon, son of Louis XIV. by Madame de Montespan. With his gains he rebuilt Chantilly, and, being fond of horses, he added to its buildings the finest stables in Europe, to which he brought a hundred and fifty of the finest English horses. Law still rose in popularity. He was more than regent-he was more than man. Such crowds followed him in the streets, that the government ordered him the escort of a troop of cavalry. This royal compliment he repaid in a royal manner. A diamond merchant had offered the famous jewel for sale, afterwards called the Regent, one of the finest diamonds in the world for brilliancy; as large as a green gage plum, without flaw, and weighing five hundred grains. The regent, though eager for the purchase, shrank from the price. But Law, the resistless and exhaustless Law, was at hand, bade him be of good cheer, and bought the gem for 2,000,000 of livres. The most astonishing of the wonders of this whole scheme, was its continuance. In any country of Europe at the present dayit could not fast three months -in France it lasted three years. The American shares had been established in 1717-the Indian in 1719-and at the commencement of 1720 the stock was still regarded as gold, and better than gold. But there was one evil preying upon the scheme, which arose from the cupidity of the government. As new issues of notes were in constant demand for the increased purchases of the shares, they were issued without limit the regent being delighted to find so simple a way to indulge the profusion of the most profligate court on earth. Thus millions on millions continued silently to swell the circulation, for which there was not a livre of corresponding specie in the bank. The act of an angry noble gave the first blow. The Prince of Conti, offended at some refusal of shares by Law, suddenly sent all his paper to the bank, demanding payment in specie. The paper was in such quantity that it filled three waggons. Law was indignant and alarmed. An example of this order once becoming fashionable, would have extinguished him. He flew to the regent. Power did what nothing else could have done. The regent gave the prince a severe lecture, and commanded him to send back to the bank two-thirds of the specie which he had thus hazardously drawn. The order was submitted to, with whatever illwill; and as the prince happened to be a man of unpopular manners, the whole nation joined in an outcry against his vindictiveness, and in the clamour, the real culprits, the regent and Law, were forgotten. But the blow was coming. The Prince of Conti's experiment had partially failed, but it brought the truth before the eye of some of those sagacious people who have sense enough to learn wisdom from the folly of others. The sight of these waggon loads of paper parading through the streets of Paris, suddenly suggested the idea, that there was a vast quantity of paper wandering through the public hands, while specie was scarcely to be seen. Some of the leading stockholders now began silently to get as much of the specie as they could purchase, and when the specie was not to be had, they bought plate and diamonds, and sent the whole three across the frontier.. In one instance, a stock-dealer, gathering a million of livres in gold and silver, and not choosing to trust them to other hands, hired a cart, covered his money with dung, and wearing a smock frock, drove his cart into Flanders; from which he speedily transferred himself and his freight to Amsterdam, then supposed to be the safest spot for money in Europe. These performances and hoarding, rapidly diminished the specie in circulation, and, at length, the people began to ask what had become of ithow they were to do without it? If France at that time had credit enough to borrow from Holland or England, she might have reinforced her coin, and thus kept off the evil day for a while. But it must have come at last. Paper cannot pay paper; and, for the numberless small transactions of life, coin is essential, even if paper may be sufficient for the larger. The remedy now proposed by the government showed only its ignorance; though it is difficult to say how far this remedy was to be imputed to so sagacious a brain as Law's. It was the issuing of an edict, declaring the coin to be five per cent below the value of the paper! This produced naturally no other effect than hoarding, or sending more coin out of the country. Another edict followed, depreciating the value ten per cent; this would have been only worse and worse, but for its being accompanied with an order that no one cash payment should be made by the bank, of more than one hundred livres in gold, and ten in silver. This was nominal safety, but virtual bankruptcy. The catastrophe was now all but visible. The ruin is still more instructive than the rise. Specie almost totally disappeared, as it always has done under restriction. The government edicts only showed its superiority to the go vernment paper. There was but one measure wanting to destroy the bank, and it was adopted. In February 1720, an edict was issued, forbidding any person to keep more than 500 livres (£20) in his hands, under penalty of fine and confiscation. This was equivalent to the total disappear. ance of coin. But it was further prohibited to buy up jewellery and plate with the paper. This was equivalent to the total depreciation of the paper, for if it could not buy what men chose, it had lost its use. But this was connected with a still worse measure, the employment of informers, who were to receive half the amount of their discoveries. France was instantly covered with this worse thau locust host. No family, no individual was safe. Arrests and con fiscations were universal; the simple word of an informer, that he suspected gold in any man's house, was enough to authorize a search warrant. Robbery and revenge naturally availed themselves of this desperate privilege, and all kinds of offences and insults were offered. Lord Stair, the British ambassador, wittily said of this extraordinary act of tyranny, that Law had now completed the proof of his sincerity in turning papist-having first shown his faith in transubstantia. tion, by turning all the gold of France into paper, and next having thrown all France into the Inquisition. The blow was struck. Popular terror now began to flame into popular rage. Coin was not to be had, or if had, any sum above 500 livres brought the possessor or offerer to ruin. No one would touch the paper of the bank. Conspiracies began to be organized. Threats of a new St Bartholomew were heard in all quarters. All was poverty, misery, and vengeance; and the government were still more frantic than the people. The curse of despotism was now thoroughly felt. Force attempted every thing, in an instance where it could do nothing. The excess of paper had been the origin of the evil: the government, in its desperation, absolutely swelled that excess. Between the 1st of February and the last of May, it issued notes to the amount of 1500 millions of livres (£60,000,000 sterling.) This only increased the general depreciation. The president of the par liament of Paris told the regent to his face, that he would rather have 100,000 livres in specie, than 5,000,000 in his paper. We can follow those details no longer. On the 27th of May, the bank stopped payment in specie. Law and D'Argenson were both dismissed from the ministry. D'Aguesseau was made chancellor again, and by some temporary arrangments the bank was enabled to pay small sums in coin. This produced new riots; the rush to the bank was so furious, that people were frequently crushed to death. In one day, fifteen were thus killed. The bank itself would have been plundered, but for the soldiers, who met the crowd with fixed bayonets. Law's equipage happening to be in the court-yard of the Palais Royal, to which some of the bodies of the dead were carried by an immense mob, to show the regent the effect of his measures, the carriage was torn to pieces; and the president of the parliament, which was then sitting, happening to bring the news, the whole assembly rose with a general acclamation-a voice being heard above it all, crying out, " And Law himself, is he torn to pieces?" The president is said to have even turned poet on the occasion, and, in his rapture, to have entered the hall, saying or singing Messieurs, Messieurs, bonne nouvelle ! Le carosse de Law est reduit en canelle." The French are certainly a singular people. In this conflict the shares of the Great Indian Company were continually going down. The regent made another hopeless attempt to raise them. The parliament, now tenfold fortified by the public opinion, contemptuously refused to register the decree. The regent, in return, banished the whole body to Pontaise. The parliament took a comic, but characteristic revenge. They gave a succession of balls and suppers. Never was banishment so amusing before. All the wits and all the beauties of Paris flocked to their parties. Judges and councillors danced, sung, and gamed, like so many court pages. All was calembourgs, caricatures, farces, and flirtations. Pontaise was city and court together, and gayer than either had ever been. This continued for weeks, until the |