The Peace of Paris is a signpost in the vast realm of possibility pointing out the paths over which the great powers of to-day have travelled. It stands at the crossways. Here the ancient kingdoms of the East met the new world in the West. The fates of Indian princes and redskin chiefs were alike decided by the white man at Fontainebleau. Their civilisations and religions alike were doomed when their lands passed under the suzerainty of his Most Gracious Majesty George III. Those who met at the signpost in 1762, and those who travel back to it along paths half obscured by the growth of two centuries, agree that it is no ordinary landmark. Contemporaries differed in their estimation of the peace, but they all agreed as to its importance. It was the great political question which agitated the courts of London, Paris, Madrid, Berlin, Vienna and St. Petersburg from the beginning of 1761 till December 1762, when the preliminaries of the peace were approved in the House of Commons by the huge majority of 319 to 65. George III. spoke of the peace as glorious. Charles Townsend praised it. Hans Stanley, one of the few good English diplomatists of the eighteenth century, defended it ably in the House. Pitt alone opposed it with any force. His speech, though familiar as a burst of oratory, has long been an enigma when treated as an historical document. Why did the great War Minister so absolutely condemn the peace which laid the foundations of the British Empire, the peace which is generally regarded as the result of his own successful policy?