Surrounded as he was by hostile kings, Napoleon felt the need of supports. In creating the Confederation of the Rhine, in putting his brothers upon adjacent thrones, in bestowing fiefs upon his high officials, he believed himself to be throwing out barriers against foreign foes, and propping his empire with the self-interest and resources of all these subject princes whom he had created, never dreaming that in the day of adversity his own brothers and sisters would think of saving themselves at his expense. * * * * * On the very night of Napoleon’s return to Paris from the army, he summoned his council. The finances were in confusion; there had been something of a panic, and only the victory of Austerlitz restored confidence. The minister, who had brought about this state of things by his mismanagement, was Barbé-Marbois, a royalist whom Napoleon had recalled from banishment and elevated to high office. During the Emperor’s absence the minister had allowed the contractors and speculators to become partners in the management of the treasury, had allowed these speculators to use public funds, and had carried his complaisance to such an extent that they now owed the government more than $25,000,000. Under the Old Régime it was quite the usual thing to allow contractors and speculators to use and misuse public funds. In our own day it is the universal rule. No well-regulated Christian government would think of issuing a loan, undertaking public improvements, or refunding its debt without giving to some clique of favored capitalists a huge share of the sum total: just as it would shock a modern government to its foundation if the principle were enforced that public funds should be rigidly kept in public depositories to be used for public purposes only. Napoleon, however, was neither a ruler of the ancient Bourbon type, nor a Christian governor of the modern sort. He would not float loans, levy war taxes, nor allow his treasury to become the hunting-ground of the Bourse. England was fighting Napoleon with paper money, was floating loan after loan, was giving to speculators and contractors golden opportunities to enrich themselves. In the end, England’s paper money, loans, and war taxes were to whip the fight; but in the meantime Napoleon believed himself right and England wrong. He honestly believed that England would sink under her debt, taxes, and worthless currency. When he saw her grow in strength year by year, her manufactures increase, her trade increase, her wealth, power, and population increase, he was unable to comprehend the mystery. Mr. Alison, the Tory historian, who chronicles the facts, explains, kindly, that this growth of England was illusive and fictitious. To Napoleon, sitting desolately on the rock at St. Helena, housed in a remodelled cow barn and tormented by rats, it must have seemed that this paper-money growth of English power was not quite so illusive as Mr. Alison declared.