might have united them to his empire and in a single reign would have extended Russia from the Gulf of Bothnia to the mouths of the Danube. Catherine the Great could not have done more,” said Napoleon, growing more and more excited as he paced up and down the room, repeating to Balashev almost the very words he had used to Alexander himself at Tilsit. “All that, he would have owed to my friendship. Oh, what a splendid reign!” he repeated several times, then paused, drew from his pocket a gold snuffbox, lifted it to his nose, and greedily sniffed at it.
“What a splendid reign the Emperor Alexander’s might have been!”
He looked compassionately at Balashev, and as soon as the latter tried to make some rejoinder hastily interrupted him.
“What could he wish or look for that he would not have obtained through my friendship?” demanded Napoleon, shrugging his shoulders in perplexity. “But no, he has preferred to surround himself with my enemies, and with whom? With Steins, Armfeldts, Bennigsens, and Wintzingerodes! 3 Stein, a traitor expelled from his own country; Armfeldt, a rake and an intriguer; Wintzingerode, a fugitive French subject; Bennigsen, rather more of a soldier than the others, but all the same an incompetent who was unable to do anything in 1807 and who should awaken terrible memories in the Emperor Alexander’s mind. . . . Granted that were they competent they might be made use of,” continued Napoleon—hardly able to keep pace in words with the rush of thoughts that incessantly sprang up, proving how right and strong he was (in his perception the two were one and the same)—“but they are not even that! They are neither fit for war nor peace! Barclay is said to be the most capable of them all, but I cannot say so, judging by his first movements. And what are they doing, all these courtiers? Pfuel proposes,4 Armfeldt disputes, Bennigsen considers, and Barclay, called on to act, does not know what to decide on, and time passes bringing no result. Bagration alone is a military man. He’s stupid, but he has experience, a quick eye, and resolution. . . . And what role is your young monarch playing in that monstrous crowd? They compromise him and throw on him the responsibility for all that happens. A sovereign should not be with the army unless he is a general!” said Napoleon, evidently uttering these words as a direct challenge to the Emperor. He knew how Alexander desired to be a military commander.

“The campaign began only a week ago, and you haven’t even been able to defend Vilna. You are cut in two 5 and have been driven out of the Polish provinces. Your army is grumbling.”
“On the contrary, Your Majesty,” said Balashev, hardly able to remember what had been said to him and following these verbal fireworks with difficulty, “the troops are burning with eagerness . . .”
“I know everything!” Napoleon interrupted him. “I know everything. I know the number of your battalions as exactly as I know my own. You have not two hundred thousand men, and I have three times that number. I give you my word of honor,” said Napoleon, forgetting that his word of honor could carry no weight—“I give you my word of honor that I have five hundred and thirty thousand men this side of the Vistula. The Turks will be of no use to you; they are worth nothing and have shown it by making peace with you. As for the Swedes—it is their fate to be governed by mad kings. Their king was insane and they changed him for another—Bernadotte,6 who promptly went mad—for no Swede would ally himself with Russia unless he were mad.”
Napoleon grinned maliciously and again raised his snuffbox to his nose.
Balashev knew how to reply to each of Napoleon’s remarks, and would have done so; he continually made the gesture of a man wishing to say something, but Napoleon always interrupted him. To the alleged insanity of the Swedes, Balashev wished to reply that when Russia is on her side Sweden is practically an island: but Napoleon gave an angry exclamation to drown his voice. Napoleon was in that state of irritability in which a man has to talk, talk, and talk, merely to convince himself that he is in the right. Balashev began to feel uncomfortable: as envoy he feared to demean his dignity and felt the necessity of replying; but, as a man, he shrank before the transport of groundless wrath that had evidently seized Napoleon. He knew that none of the words now uttered by Napoleon had any significance, and that Napoleon himself would be ashamed of them when he came to his senses. Balashev stood with downcast eyes, looking at the movements of Napoleon’s stout legs and trying to avoid meeting his eyes.
“But what do I care about your allies?” said Napoleon. “I have allies—the Poles. There are eighty thousand of them and they fight like lions. And there will be two hundred thousand of them.”
And probably still more perturbed by the fact that he had uttered this obvious falsehood, and that Balashev still stood silently before him in the same attitude of submission to fate, Napoleon abruptly turned round, drew close to Balashev’s face, and, gesticulating rapidly and energetically with his white hands, almost shouted:
“Know that if you stir up Prussia against me, I’ll wipe it off the map of Europe!” he declared, his face pale and distorted by anger, and he struck one of his small hands energetically with the other. “Yes, I will throw you back beyond the Dvina and beyond the Dnieper, and will re-erect against you that barrier 7 which it was criminal and blind of Europe to allow to be destroyed. Yes, that is what will happen to you. That is what you have gained by alienating me!” And he walked silently several times up and down the room, his fat shoulders twitching.
He put his snuffbox into his waistcoat pocket, took it out again, lifted it several times to his nose, and stopped in front of Balashev. He paused, looked ironically straight into Balashev’s eyes, and said in a quiet voice:
“And yet what a splendid reign your master might have had!”
Balashev, feeling it incumbent on him to reply, said that from the Russian side things did not appear in so gloomy a light. Napoleon was silent, still looking derisively at him and evidently not listening to him. Balashev said that in Russia the best results were expected from the war. Napoleon nodded condescendingly, as if to say, “I know it’s your duty to say that, but you don’t believe it yourself. I have convinced you.”
When Balashev had ended, Napoleon again took out his snuffbox, sniffed at it, and stamped his foot twice on the floor as a signal. The door opened, a gentleman-in-waiting, bending respectfully, handed the Emperor his hat and gloves; another brought him a pocket handkerchief. Napoleon, without giving them a glance, turned to Balashev:
“Assure the Emperor Alexander from me,” said he, taking his hat, “that I am as devoted to him as before: I know him thoroughly and very highly esteem his lofty qualities. I will detain you no longer, General; you shall receive my letter to the Emperor.”
And Napoleon went quickly to the door. Everyone in the reception room rushed forward and descended the staircase.

1. Alexander Dmitrievich Balashev (1770-1837) was appointed Chief of Police in Petersburg in 1808, Military (Governor in 1809, Head of Ministry of Police in 1810, and he accompanied the Tsar to Vilna in 1812. Napoleon’s speeches to him are taken from Thiers and Danilevski.—A.M.
2. The Niemen, in 1812, was the frontier between Russia and Poland.—A.M.
3. Baron H. F. K. von Stein (1757-1831) was a German statesman who entered the Prussian service in 1780. In 1807 he succeeded Hardenburg—whom Napoleon had refused to deal with—as minister with very wide powers, and he proposed the abolition of serfdom, later accomplished by Hardenburg in 1811. Stein promoted the military reorganization of the country, and Napoleon demanded his dismissal and expulsion from Germany. He Bed to Bohemia, but in May, 1812, was invited by Alexander to visit Petersburg. Subsequently in Russia Stein promoted the coalition against Napoleon and played an important part in accomplishing his downfall.
   Count G. M. Armfeldt (1757-1814) was a distinguished general and a faithful supporter of Gustavus III of Sweden and of his son Gustavus IV. When the latter lost power Armfeldt was expelled from Sweden and found refuge in Russia, where he obtained much influence with Alexander, who entrusted him with the management of the affairs of Finland, which had then recently been annexed. He secured for the Finns the retention of their ancient constitution.
   Count L. A. von Bennigsen (1745-182 6) passed from the Hanoverian service in 1773 to enter the Russian. He was active in the conspiracy which involved the assassination of the Emperor Paul. He claimed a victory over the French at Pultusk (1806) (see Bilibin’s letter, Book Five, p. 405), and was commander in chief at the indecisive battle of Preussisch-Eylau (1807), but was defeated with heavy loss at Friedland (1807), which reverse led to the alliance concluded at Tilsit. He fought at Borodino and defeated Murat at Tarutino, but quarreled with Kutuzov and had to retire from the service. After Kutuzov’s death he again obtained a command and led one of the columns which decided the victory at Leipzig (1813), for which service he was made a count.
   Baron F. T. Wintzingerode (1770-1818) was an Austrian who in the course of his career passed more than once from the Austrian