DIVERS EMPLOYMENTS OF JOHN LAW
"And when shall I send these garments to your Lordship?" asked the
haberdasher, with whom Law was having speech on the morning following
the first night in London.
"Two weeks from to-day," said Law, "in the afternoon, and not later than
four o'clock. I shall have need for them."
"Impossible!" said the tradesman, hitherto obsequious, but now smitten
with the conviction regarding the limits of human possibilities.
"At that hour, or not at all," said John Law, calmly. "At that time I
shall perhaps be at my lodgings, 59 Bradwell Street, West. As I have
said to you, I am not clad as I could wish. It is not a matter of your
convenience, but of mine own."
"But, sir," expostulated the other, "you order of the best. Nothing, I
am sure, save the utmost of good workmanship would please you. I should
like a month of time upon these garments, in order to make them worthy
of yourself. Moreover, there are orders of the nobility already in our
hands will occupy us more than past the time you name. Make it three
weeks, sir, and I promise--"
His customer only shook his head and reiterated, "You heard me well."
The tailor, sore puzzled, not wishing to lose a customer who came so
well recommended, and yet hesitating at the exactions of that customer,
sat with perplexity written upon his brow.
"So!" exclaimed Law. "Sir Arthur Pembroke told me that you were a clever
fellow and could execute exact any order I might give you. Now it
appears to me you are like everybody else. You prate only of hardships
and of impossibilities."
The perspiration fairly stood out on the forehead of the man of trade.
"Sir," said he, "I should be glad to please not only a friend of Sir
Arthur Pembroke, but also a gentleman of such parts as yourself. I
hesitate to promise--"
"But you must promise," said John Law.
"Well, then, I do promise! I will have this apparel at your place on the
day which you name. 'Tis most extraordinary, but the order shall be
executed."
"As I thought," said John Law.
"But I must thank you besides," resumed the tradesman. "In good truth I
must say that of all the young gentlemen who come hither--and I may show
the names of the best nobility of London and of some ports beyond
seas--there hath never stepped within these doors a better figure than
yourself--nay, not so good. And I am a judge of men."
Law looked at him carelessly.
"You shall make me none the easier, nor yourself the easier, by soft
speech," said he, "if you have not these garments ready by the time
appointed. Send them, and you shall have back the fifty sovereigns by
the messenger, with perhaps a coin or so in addition if all be well."
"The air of this nobility!" said the tailor, but smiling with pleasure
none the less. "This is, perhaps, some affair with a lady?" he added.
"'Tis an affair with a lady, and also with certain gentlemen."
"Oh, so," said the tailor. "If it he, forsooth, an enterprise with a
lady, methinks I know the outcome now." He gazed with professional pride
upon the symmetrical figure before him. "You shall be all the better
armed when well fitted in my garments. Not all London shall furnish a
properer figure of a man, nor one better clad, when I shall have done
with you, sir."
Law but half heard him, for he was already turning toward the door,
where he beckoned again for his waiting chair.
"To the offices of the Bank of England," he directed. And forthwith he
was again jogging through the crowded streets of London.
The offices of the Bank of England, to which this young adventurer now
so nonchalantly directed his course, were then not housed in any such
stately edifice as that which now covers the heart of the financial
world, nor did the location of the young and struggling institution, in
a by-street of the great city, tend to give dignity to a concern which
still lacked importance and assuredness. Thither, then, might have gone
almost any young traveler who needed a letter of credit cashed, or a
bill changed after the fashion of the passing goldsmiths.
Yet it was not as mere transient customer of a money-changer that young
Law now sought the Bank of England, nor was it as a commercial house
that the bank then commanded attention. That bank, young as it was, had
already become a pillar of the throne of England. William, distracted by
wars abroad and factions at home, found his demands for funds ever in
excess of the supply. More than that, the people of England discovered
themselves in possession of a currency fluctuating, mutilated, and
unstable, so that no man knew what was his actual fortune. The shrewd
young financier, Montague, chancellor of the exchequer, who either by
wisdom or good fortune had sanctioned the founding of the Bank of
England, was at this very time addressing himself to the question of a
recoinage of the specie of the realm of England. He needed help, he
demanded ideas; nor was he too particular whence he obtained either the
one or the other.
John Law was in London on no such blind quest as he had himself
declared. He was here by the invitation, secret yet none the less
obligatory, of Montague, controller of the financial policy of England.
And he was to meet, here upon this fair morning, none less than my Lord
Somers, keeper of the seals; none less than Sir Isaac Newton, the
greatest mathematician of his time; none less than John Locke, the most
learned philosopher of the day. Strong company this, for a young and
unknown man, yet in the belief of Montague, himself a young man and a
gambler by instinct, not too strong for this young Scotchman who had
startled the Parliament of his own land by some of the most remarkable
theories of finance which had ever been proposed in any country or to
any government. As Law had himself arrogantly announced, he was indeed a
philosopher and a mathematician, young as he was; and these things
Montague was himself keen enough to know.
It promised, then, to be a strange and interesting council, this which
was to meet to-day at the Bank of England, to adjust the value of
England's coinage; two philosophers, one pompous trimmer, and two
gamblers; the younger and more daring of whom was now calmly threading
the streets of London on his way to a meeting which might mean much to
him.
To John Law, adventurer, mathematician, philosopher, gambler, it seemed
a natural enough thing that he should be asked to sit at the council
table with the ablest minds of the day and pass upon questions the most
important. This was not what gave him trouble. This matter of the
coinage, these questions of finance--they were easy. But how to win the
interest of the tall and gracious English girl whom he had met by chance
that other morn, who had left no way open for a further meeting; how to
gain access to the presence of that fair one--these were the questions
which to John Law seemed of greater importance, and of greater
difficulty in the answering.
The chair drew up at the somber quarters where the meeting had been set.
Law knew the place by instinct, even without seeing the double row of
heavy-visaged London constabulary which guarded the entrance. Here and
there along the street were carriages and chairs, and multiplied
conveyances of persons of consequence. Upon the narrow pavement, and
within the little entrance-way that led to the inner room, there bustled
about important-looking men, some with hooked noses, most with florid
faces and well-fed bodies, but all with a certain dignity and sobriety
of expression.
Montague himself, young, smooth-faced, dark-eyed, of active frame, of
mobile and pleasing features, sat at the head of a long table. The
high-strung quality of his nervous system was evidenced in his restless
hands, his attitude frequently changed.
At the left of Montague sat Somers, lord keeper; older, of more steady
demeanor, of fuller figure, of bold face and full light eye, a
politician, not a ponderer. At the right of Montague, grave, silent,
impassive, now and again turning a contemplative eye about him, sat that
great man. Sir Isaac Newton, known then to every nobleman, and now to
every schoolboy, of the world. A gem-like mind, keen, clear, hard and
brilliant, exact in every facet, and forsooth held in the setting of an
iron body. Gentle, unmoved, self-assured, Sir Issac Newton was calm as
morn itself as he sat in readiness to give England the benefit of his
wisdom.
Beyond sat John Locke, abstruse philosopher, a man thinner and darker
than his _confrère_, with large full orb, with the brow of the student
and the man of thought. In dignity he shared with the learned gentleman
sitting near him.
All those at the board looked with some intentness at the figure of the
young man from the North, who came as the guest of Montague. With small
formality, the latter rose and advanced to meet Law with an eager grasp
of the hand. He made him known to the others present promptly, but with
a half apology.
"Gentlemen," said he, "I have made bold to ask the presence with us of a
young man who has much concerned himself with problems such as those
which we have now in hand. Sir Isaac Newton, this is Mr. Law of
Edinboro'. Mr. Law, the fame of John Locke I need not lay before you,
and of my Lord Somers you need no advice. Mr. Law, I shall pray you to
be seated.
"I shall but serve as your mouthpiece to the Court, gentlemen," resumed
Montague, seating himself and turning at once to the business of the
day. "We are all agreed as to the urgency of the case. The king needs
behind him in these times a contented people. You have already seen the
imminence of a popular discontent which may shake the throne of England,
none too safe in these days of change. That we must reorganize the
coinage is understood and agreed. The question is, how best to do this
without further unsettling the times. My Lord Keeper, I must beg you for
your suggestions."
"Sir," said Somers, shifting and coughing, "it is as you say. The
question is of great moment. I should suggest a decree that the old coin
shall pass by weight alone and not by its face value. Call in all the
coin and have it weighed, the government to make future payment to the
owner of the coin of the difference between its nominal and its real
value. The coin itself should be restored forthwith to its owner. Hence
the trade and the credit of the realm would not suffer. The money of the
country would be withdrawn from the use of the country only that short
time wherein it was in process of counting. This, it occurs to me, would
surely be a practical method, and could work harm to none." My Lord
Somers sat back, puffing out his chest complacently.
"Sir Isaac," said Montague, "and Mr. Locke, we must beg you to find such
fault as you may with this plan which my Lord Keeper hath suggested."
Sir Isaac made no immediate reply. John Locke stirred gently in his
chair. "There seemeth much to commend in this plan of my Lord Keeper,"
said he, leaning slightly forward, "but in pondering my Lord Keeper's
suggestion for the bringing in of this older coin, I must ask you if
this plan can escape that selfish impulse of the human mind which
seeketh for personal gain? For, look you, short as would be the time
proposed, it taketh but still shorter time to mutilate a coin; and it
doth seem to me that, under the plan of my Lord Keeper, we should see
the old currency of England mutilated in a night. Sir, I should opine in
the contrary of this plan, and would base my decision upon certain
principles which I believe to be ever present in the human soul."
Montague cast down his eye for a moment. "Sir Isaac," at length he
began, "we are relying very much upon you. Is there no suggestion which
you can offer on this ticklish theme?"
The large, full face of the great man was turned calmly and slowly upon
the speaker. His deep and serene eye apparently saw not so much the man
before him as the problem which lay on that man's mind.
"Sir," said Sir Isaac, "as John Locke hath said, this is after all much
a matter of clear reasoning. There come into this problem two chief
questions: First, who shall pay the expense of the recoinage? Shall the
Government pay the expense, or shall the owner of the coin, who is to
obtain good coin for evil?
"Again, this matter applieth not to one man but to many men. Now if one
half the tradesmen of England rush to us with their coin for reminting,
surely the trade of the country will have left not sufficient medium
with which to prosper. This I take to be the second part of this
problem.
"There be certain persons of the realm who claim that we may keep our
present money as it is, but mark from its face a certain amount of
value. Look you, now, this were a small thing; yet, in my mind, it
clearly seemeth dishonesty. For, if I owe my neighbor a debt, let us say
for an hundred sovereigns, shall I not be committing injustice upon my
neighbor if I pay him an hundred sovereigns less that deduction which
the realm may see fit thus to impose upon the face of my sovereign?
This, in justice, sirs, I hold it to be not the part of science, nor the
part of honesty, neither of statesmanship, to endorse."
"Sir Isaac," cried Montague, striking his nervous hands upon the table,
"recoin we must. But how, and, as you say, at whose expense? We are as
far now from a plan as when we started. We but multiply difficulties.
What we need now is not so much negative measures as positive ones. We
must do this thing, and we must do it promptly. The question is still
of how it may best be done. Mr. Law, by your leave and by the leave of
these gentlemen here present, I shall take the liberty of asking you if
there doth occur to your mind any plan by which we may be relieved of
certain of these difficulties. I am aware, sir, that you are much a
student in these matters."
A grave silence fell upon all. John Law, young, confident and arrogant
in many ways as he was, none the less possessed sobriety and depth of
thought, just as he possessed the external dignity to give it fitting
vehicle. He gazed now at the men before him, not with timorousness or
trepidation. His face was grave, and he returned their glances calmly as
he rose and made the speech which, unknown to himself, was presently to
prove so important in his life.
"My Lords," said he, "and gentlemen of this council, I am ill-fitted to
be present here, and ill-fitted to add my advice to that which has been
given. It is not for me to go beyond the purpose of this meeting, or to
lay before you certain plans of my own regarding the credit of nations.
I may start, as does our learned friend, simply from established
principles of human nature.
"It is true that the coinage is a creature of the government. Yet I
believe it to be true that the government lives purely upon credit;
which is to say, the confidence of the people in that government.
"Now, we may reason in this matter perhaps from the lesser relations of
our daily life. What manner of man do we most trust among those whom we
meet? Surely, the honest man, the plain man, the one whose directness
and integrity we do not doubt. Truly you may witness the nature of such
a man in the manner of his speech, in his mien, in his conduct.
Therefore, my Lords and gentlemen, it seems to me plain that we shall
best gain confidence for ourselves if we act in the most simple fashion.
"Let us take up this matter directly with Parliament, not seeking to
evade the knowledge of Parliament in any fashion; for, as we know, the
Parliament and the king are not the best bed-fellows these days, and the
one is ready enough to suspect the other. Let us have a bill framed for
Parliament--such bill made upon the decisions of these learned gentlemen
present. Above all things, let us act with perfect openness.
"As to the plan itself, it seems that a few things may be held safe and
sure. Since we can not use the old coin, then surely we must have new
coin, milled coin, which Charles, the earlier king of England, has
decreed. Surely, too, as our learned friend has wisely stated, the loss
in any recoinage ought, in full justice and honesty, to fall not upon
the people of England, but upon the government of England. It seems
equally plain to me there must be a day set after which the old coin may
no longer be used. Set it some months ahead, not, as my Lord Keeper
suggests, but a few days; so that full notice may be given to all. Make
your campaign free and plain, and place it so that it may be known, not
only of Parliament, but of all the world. Thus you establish yourselves
in the confidence of Parliament and in the good graces of this people,
from whom the taxes must ultimately come."
Montague's hands smote again upon the table with a gesture of
conviction. John Locke shifted again in his chair. Sir Isaac and the
lord keeper gazed steadfastly at this young man who stood before them,
calmly, assuredly, and yet with no assumption in his mien.
"Moreover," went on John Law, calmly, "there is this further benefit to
be gained, as I am sure my countryman, Mr. Paterson, has long ago made
plain. It is not a question of the wealth of England, but a question of
the confidence of the people in the throne. There is money in abundance
in England. It is the province of my Lord Chancellor to wheedle it out
of those coffers where it is concealed and place it before the uses of
the king. Gentlemen, it is confidence that we need. There will be no
trouble to secure loans of money in this rich land, but the taxes must
be the pledge to your bankers. This new Bank of England will furnish you
what moneys you may need. Secure them only by the pledge of such taxes
as you feel the people may not resent; give the people, free of cost, a
coinage which they can trust; and then, it seems to me, my Lords and
gentlemen, the problem of the revenue may be thought solved simply and
easily--solved, too, without irritating either the people or the
Parliament, or endangering the relations of Parliament and the throne."
The conviction which fell upon all found its best expression in the face
of Montague. The youth and nervousness of the man passed away upon the
instant. He sat there sober and thoughtful, quiet and resolved.
"Gentlemen," said he at last, slowly, "my course is plain from this
instant. I shall draw the bill and it shall go to Parliament. The
expense of this recoinage I am sure we can find maintained by the
stockholders of the Bank of England, and for their pay we shall propose
a new tax upon the people of England. We shall tax the windows of the
houses of England, and hence tax not only the poor but the rich of
England, and that proportionately with their wealth. As for the coin of
England, it shall be honest coin, made honest and kept honest, at no
cost to the people of old England. Sirs, my heart is lighter than it has
been for many days."
The last trace of formality in the meeting having at length vanished,
Montague made his way rapidly to the foot of the table. He caught Law by
both his hands.
"Sir," said he, "you helped us at the last stage of our ascent. A
mistake here had been ruinous, not only to myself and friends, but to
the safety of the whole Government. You spoke wisely and practically.
Sir, if I can ever in all my life serve you, command me, and at whatever
price you name. I am not yet done with you, sir," resumed Montague,
casting his arm boyishly about the other's shoulder as they walked out.
"We must meet again to discuss certain problems of the currency which, I
bethink me, you have studied deeply. Keep you here in London, for I
shall have need of you. Within the month, perhaps within the week, I
shall require you. England needs men who can do more than dawdle. Pray
you, keep me advised where you may be found."
There was ill omen in the light reply. "Why, as to that, my Lord," said
Law, "if you should think my poor service useful, your servants might
get trace of me at the Green Lion--unless I should be in prison! No man
knoweth what may come."
Montague laughed lightly. "At the Green Lion, or in Newgate itself,"
said he. "Be ready, for I have not yet done with you."