President de Mesmes entered the Grand Chamber, singing with quite a solemn air,-- "Sirs, sirs, great news! What is it?
It's--They've smashed Law's carriage all to bits." The whole body jumped up, more regardful of their hatred than of their dignity; and "Is Law torn in pieces ?" was the cry.

Law had taken refuge at the Palais Royal.

One day he appeared at the theatre in the Regent's box; low murmurs recalled to the Regent's mind the necessity for prudence; in the end he got Law away secretly in a carriage lent him by the Duke of Bourbon.
Law had brought with him to France a considerable fortune; he had scarcely enough to live upon when he retired to Venice, where he died some years later (1729), convinced to the last of the utility of his system, at the same time that he acknowledged the errors he had committed in its application.

"I do not pretend that I did not make mistakes," he wrote from his retreat; "I know I did, and that if I had to begin again I should do differently.

I should go more slowly but more surely, and I should not expose the state and my own person to the dangers which may attend the derangement of a general system." "There was neither avarice nor rascality in what he did," says St.Simon; "he was a gentle, kind, respectful man, whom excess of credit and of fortune had not spoilt, and whose bearing, equipage, table, and furniture could not offend anybody.
He bore with singular patience and evenness the obstructions that were raised against his operations, until at the last, finding himself short of means, and nevertheless seeking for them and wishing to present a front, he became crusty, gave way to temper, and his replies were frequently ill-considered.