“When I took service in France,” he wrote to the Duke of Orleans, “I had as much property as I needed. I was without debts and I had credit; I left the service without property of any kind. Those who placed confidence in me have been driven to bankruptcy, and I have not the means of paying them.”
At the time of his great failure, and for a long time afterwards, if not to the present day, Law was looked upon as a mere swindler; whereas he was nothing worse than a sanguine, over-confident, perhaps even reckless speculator. It has been seen that by his speculations he impoverished himself as well as others.
“The machine he had invented,” says one of his critics, M. Gautier, “was ingenious; but in a country like France, without industrial resources, it could not find sufficient motive power. Law thought he could remove this difficulty by joining to his mechanism an artificial motive power. He was wrong. The banks can no more found credit than credit can produce capital. They can turn to the best account a value that exists. But to create value is beyond their power.”
According to another French economist, M. Levasseur, “Law acted with the precipitation and violence of a man who, penetrated with the truth of his own ideas, marches straight towards his goal without caring whether the generality of persons understand him or not, and who becomes irritated when natural obstacles present themselves which he had not foreseen.”
Law himself, while asserting his own moral integrity, admitted that he had made mistakes. “I do not maintain,” he said, “that I was right on every point. I acknowledge that I committed errors, and that if I had to begin again I should act differently. I should advance more slowly {296} but more surely, and should not expose the State and my own person to the dangers necessarily resulting from a general panic.” He persisted, however, in asserting that, though his mode of action had been faulty, he nevertheless possessed the true secret of national wealth. “Do not forget,” he wrote from his place of exile, “that the introduction of credit has done more for commercial transactions between the countries of Europe than the discovery of India; that it is for the Sovereign to give credit, not to receive it, and that the people of every country have such absolute need of it that they must return to it in spite of themselves, however much they may mistrust the principle.”
“We must render to this man,” says M. Levasseur, “the justice he merits. He was not, as has sometimes been said, an adventurer who had come to France to profit by the weakness of the Regent. If he was wanting in that political prudence by which nations should be guided, and if he was wrong in some of his theories, he had at least fixed principles, and he occupied his whole life, not in making his fortune, but in ensuring the triumph of his ideas.... France allowed him to die in poverty. Yet if the recollection of the misery caused by the ruin of his system was somewhat too recent to give place to gratitude, France ought nevertheless to have felt grateful to him for the generous ideas he had put forth. He laboured to extend the commerce of the country, to re-establish the navy, to found colonies. He suppressed onerous privileges. He endeavoured to do away with venality in the magistracy; to create a less tyrannical and more simple administration of the tax system. Finally he established a bank, which, could it have survived, would have helped powerfully to develop commerce and would have augmented considerably the wealth of the country.”{297}
It is not generally known that, besides introducing a new system of credit, Law was the inventor of pictorial advertisements. Specimens, however, have been preserved of the pictures issued by him in connection with the “flotation” of his Mississippi scheme, one of which represents the Indians on the banks of the river, dancing with joy at the approach of the French, who had come to civilise them.