counter-compromises, all sound and fury signifying nothing, on what was
an unreal question anyhow, the great issues of the morning's meeting
forgotten and neglected; and Clemenceau silent and aloof on the
outskirts--for nothing which touched the security of France was
forward--throned, in his gray gloves, on the brocade chair, dry in soul
and empty of hope, very old and tired, but surveying the scene with a
cynical and almost impish air; and when at last silence was restored and
the company had returned to their places, it was to discover that he had
disappeared.

He felt about France what Pericles felt of Athens--unique value in her,
nothing else mattering; but his theory of politics was Bismarck's. He
had one illusion--France; and one disillusion--mankind, including
Frenchmen, and his colleagues not least. His principles for the peace
can be expressed simply. In the first place, he was a foremost believer
in the view of German psychology that the German understands and can
understand nothing but intimidation, that he is without generosity or
remorse in negotiation, that there is no advantage be will not take of
you, and no extent to which he will not demean himself for profit, that
he is without honor, pride, or mercy. Therefore you must never negotiate
with a German or conciliate him; you must dictate to him. On no other
terms will he respect you, or will you prevent him from cheating you.
But it is doubtful how far he thought these characteristics peculiar to
Germany, or whether his candid view of some other nations was
fundamentally different. His philosophy had, therefore, no place for
"sentimentality" in international relations. Nations are real things, of
whom you love one and feel for the rest indifference--or hatred. The
glory of the nation you love is a desirable end,--but generally to be
obtained at your neighbor's expense. The politics of power are
inevitable, and there is nothing very new to learn about this war or the