for a moment was, however, a delegate-Paderewski, representing Poland, with long hair and rather bizarre dress. All the Allied and other plenipotentiaries had been seated and were waiting for the appearance of the Germans, when the noted pianist's tall figure came rapidly through the doorway. Not an eye missed his rather confused progress to his place on the inside of the hollow square formed by the tables.

The whole scene had a setting that suggested peace, the room bright and cheery, and made more so by sunshine that came through great windows on three sides. Through these windows trees were seen in all the beauty of spring foliage, while flowers were growing profusely in the adjoining grounds, giving plenty of color to the background. The day was mellow in its warmth and suggested June rather than May. Nothing was there to bring to the minds of the German delegation the destruction their armed forces had wrought elsewhere in the fair land to which they had come in the humble rôle of representatives of a vanquished nation. The great dining-hall, fifty by seventy feet, was wholly free from any suggestion of French decorations. Walls, ceiling, and fluted columns were all white with no touch of color anywhere. Above hung four enormous chandeliers. Along the tables were blotters and paper for each delegate, and before the blotters squatty ink-bottles and ordinary pencils and penholders. The scene had none of the pomp and glitter of earlier peace gatherings-no display of court and military uniforms such as marked the congresses of Berlin and Vienna. It appeared to gain in impressiveness by these very circumstances.

When the German representatives arrived at the Trianon in automobiles throngs were near, but they stood mute as French orderlies opened automobile doors, and French and British officers conducted the Germans into the palace. Allied officers on the steps at the main entrance either saluted perfunctorily or turned their faces away. While the Entente delegates already inside were being seated, Clémenceau and President Wilson were observed engaged in conversation. After five minutes of waiting, Colonel Henri, the French liaison-officer, appeared at the door to herald the approach of the German delegation. An instant later a French functionary appeared wearing the glittering chain of his office, and announced in a loud voice: "Messieurs, the German delegates." Count von BrockdorffRantzau then slowly entered with gloves in his hand, and conspicuously undiplomatic in appearance. Neither he nor his associates looked to right or left. Nor did they pause, but moved with dignified steps to the places reserved for them. After a moment's hesitation all the Allied delegates and their secretariat personnel arose and stood courteously while the Germans were being seated, showing

only a trace of nervousness and acting as if they were taking part in deliberations on equal terms with their adversaries.

At 2.20 o'clock attendants had brought in huge armfuls of the printed conditions of peace and distributed them, one copy to each delegate, as they went around the hollow rectangle. To the Germans a copy was not delivered until 3.17, while a translation was being made of Premier Clémenceau's introductory speech, in which, as President of the Congress, he declared the session opened and explained to the Germans the conditions of the meeting that was taking place with them. There were to be no oral discussions; the Germans were to submit within fifteen days, and in writing, any observations they had to make. He then read aloud the headings of the treaty and made a suggestion that within a few days the Germans should be ready to present their observations in writing. Clémenceau concluded with the inquiry, "Has any one observations to make?" whereupon Count von Brockdorff-Rantzau raised his hand. "Count von Brockdorff-Rantzau has the floor," said Clémenceau.

The head of the German delegation wore big horn spectacles and did not rise as Clémenceau had done in making his speech-indeed, as all the delegates had done when the Germans came in—but read his speech while he remained sitting. This apparent discourtesy to his adversaries was explained by the Count's friends as due to his physical condition, but he had offered no excuse or explanation for his conduct. As he spoke his guttural German repeatedly gave emphasis to particular phrases or words, as, for instance, when he declared that the admission by Germany of her sole guilt for the war would have been "a lie," or when he forbade the Allies to complain of "cruelty and murder" in view of the suffering and death German civilians had experienced under the blockade as continued since the armistice was signed. The interpreter of the Count's speech, in giving an English version, made the most of his opportunities, both in voice and selection of words. The Count's bold and unrepentant declarations as translated gave rise to a murmur of indignation throughout the chamber. As he proceeded with an increasing attitude of decision in his manner, the bodies of the other Germans perceptibly stiffened and with folded arms they sat stern and silent. Only Clémenceau and Wilson appeared unconcerned, the latter leaning back in his chair, with his hands in his pockets. On concluding his speech, Count von Brockdorff-Rantzau replaced his spectacles in their case, spread his hands on the table, and took an attitude of waiting. Clémenceau immediately rose and in two sentences brought the proceedings to a close. Brockdorff-Rantzau had accused the Allied nations of having murdered in cold blood, since the armistice became effective, hundreds of thousands of in

GERMANY'S OCCUPIED TERRITORY

Under the conditions of the Treaty of Peace, Germany's Rhine Province, including what is known as the Palatinate, will be evacuated by Allied and American troops in three installments-the portion in the north marked 1 in five years, Part 2 in ten years, Part 3 in fifteen years

nocent German people. Many eyes were at once turned by this statement to Clémenceau, who seemed disturbed. Some thought he intended to interrupt the speaker with a show of resentment, but he let the stricture pass, and a sigh of relief went around the room.

Germany's European area by the treaty laid before the German delegates was reduced one-sixth, and it might be reduced one-fifth if the proposed plebiscites in the Saar Valley, Schleswig, and East Prussia should go against her. The area absolutely alienated totaled 34,437 square miles, that subject to plebiscites, 9,310 square miles. This reduction looked more serious than it was. In an economic and military sense Germany was only slightly crippled by her territorial losses, since the parts amputated were on the outer fringes of her domain. Excepting the small area of the Saar Valley and the Briey mineral region in Lorraine, no important industrial districts were alienated. Most of the territory marked for cession was inhabited by disaffected populations whom Germany had been unable to assimilate. Alsace-Lorraine, North Schleswig, and Posen had been liabilities for her as well as assets.

The greatest shrinkage occurred in the east, where a small fraction of Silesia (subject to a plebiscite), nearly all of Posen, and nearly all of West Prussia west of the Vistula were to be surrendered to Poland. Danzig was to be internationalized, a strip about Memel to be yielded and West Prussia, east of the Vistula, and the southern third of East Prussia to be disposed of by referendums. This part of Prussia was agricultural and economically stagnant. It had been of great value, however, as a base of operations in case of war with Russia. Now that Poland had been interposed as a buffer State and Russia had ceased to be a great power, Germany would no longer have need for a strong eastern military frontier, even if the Allies had allowed her to retain her old character as a militarist State. With all these cessions of territory, plebiscite sections included, Germany lost only about 7,000,000 inhabitants-one-tenth of her population-most of them strongly anti-German in blood and sentiment. Her losses, both in area and in population, would have been more than covered if the Peace Conference had left the door open for a union between Germany and what was left of Austria.

Under the treaty the great German General Staff was abolished and the army reduced for a time to 200,000 men, but eventually to 100,000, including 4,000 officers. These two requirements alone sufficed to tell the story of the limitation of military strength imposed upon Germany. She would not now be able to disturb the peace of Europe in our time, and perhaps never again. With her people released from the burden of taxation to keep up a great army and navy, her military system shattered, her military caste

deprived of its arrogant power and dispersed, German statesmen could indulge no more in dreams of world empire. The old order had passed. A new order had come in which would be devoted to peace and industry, for great reparation costs had to be paid, and Germany had to qualify by good works and self-discipline to reenter the family of nations and acquire their respect.

In 1912 the handbook of the German army gave the number of available trained and untrained men in the country as 9,898,000, made up as follows: Trained rank and file, including reserve and Landwehr, 3,302,000; trained Landsturm, 623,000; one-year volunteers, 85,000; non-commissioned officers of peace establishment, 92,000; total trained, 4,102,000; in addition, partially trained Ersatz reserve, 113,000, and untrained Ersatz reserve and Landsturm, 5,683,000. During the war Germany actually had placed 10,000,000 men in the field, altho her peace establishment was only 769,938 noncommissioned officers and men and 36,088 officers. The great expansion that had been brought about was not a meeting of an emergency in the sense in which the term is used in democratic countries. Under the German Constitution of 1871 every man able to bear arms was counted as a soldier, and all were under orders from the Emperor, who had power to declare war. The Treaty of Peace by a stroke of the pen had reduced the German army eventually to 100,000, or 1 per cent. of the enormous force which Germany had organized, trained and put into the field during the war.

No opportunity was left to the German Government to create a large army by stealth and double dealing. Interallied commissions of control, with authority to establish headquarters at Berlin, were to be kept on the watch against the manufacture of munitions, except in quantities sufficient for small land and sea services; the importation of arms and all war material was forbidden; nor could Germany manufacture munitions for foreign Governments; she was to have no dirigibles, and no airplanes except 100 machines which were to be retained until October 1, in order to search for submarine mines. Finally, conscription was abolished. As far as human ken could search the future, Germany was to become impotent to make war even on the smallest nation contiguous to her territory. She had been stricken from the list of land and sea powers, and made powerless to resist the sentence that had been passed upon her. There was nothing ahead for her but hard work, self-denial, and rigid economy, which was punishment for her misdeeds, but her submission might prove to her a blessing in disguise.

Against the German peril the world was apparently made safe. Loss of her navy in itself became a vital guaranty of good behavior, for altho she might have millions of men in the field her coasts would