These various decrees wrought a revolution in the fiscal arrangements of the country. No one appreciated more fully their danger than Law himself, but extraordinary circumstances such as those with which he was forced demanded the employment of extraordinary methods to counteract them. He was presented with the alternative of certain collapse of his schemes if he did not resort to arbitrary measures, or of a possible chance of saving the situation if he could force the currency of paper by withdrawing all the specie from circulation and holding it in the hands of the Bank. Had he succeeded in doing this, confidence in the notes of the Bank would undoubtedly have largely been restored since that depends entirely upon the knowledge of the public that behind them there are liquid reserves available for conversion whenever required. It is questionable if any other methods could have been devised than those followed by Law, and in judging their character it is necessary to bear in mind the ultimate object he had in view. It was natural that these tyrannical steps should have had the immediate effect of rousing a storm of opposition amongst the public towards Law, and if we are to believe Lord Stair, they also prejudiced him in the eyes of the Regent, to whom the hostile attitude of the people was a matter of grave concern. On the day following the issue of the decree of 11th March, he wrote to Craggs, “The rage of the people is so violent, that, in the course of one month, he will be pulled to pieces; or his master will deliver him up to the rage of the people. You may depend upon it that he is mightily shaken in his master’s good opinion, who, within these few days last past, has used him most cruelly to his face, and called him all the names that can be thought of, ‘Knave and madman,’ &c. He told him he did not know what hindered him to send him to the Bastille; and that there never was anyone sent thither deserved it half so well. To make matters better, Law’s head is so heated that he does not sleep at nights, and he has formal fits of phrenzy. He gets out of bed almost every night and runs, stark staring mad, about the room making a terrible noise; sometimes singing and dancing, at other times swearing, staring and stamping, quite out of himself. Some nights ago his wife, who had come into the room upon the noise he made, was forced to ring the bell for people to come to her assistance. The officer of Law’s guard was the first that came, who found Law in his shirt, who had set two chairs in the middle of the room and was dancing round them, quite out of his wits. This scene the officer of the guard told Le Blanc, from whom it came to me by a very sure conveyance. Le Blanc is in despair about the state of Law’s health and discredit in which he stands with the Regent. At the same time, there is a most formidable party formed against him, and almost everyone who held their tongues out of fear, now take courage to speak