nations of the world in a vast league of peace-loving, law-abiding communities.  But the faith of France’s leaders differed little from unbelief.  Guaranties first and the protection of the League afterward was the French formula, around which many fierce battles royal were fought.  In the end Mr. Wilson, having obtained the withdrawal of the demand for the Rhine frontier, gave in, and the Covenant was reinforced by a compact which in the last analysis is a military undertaking, a unilateral Triple Alliance, Great Britain and the United States undertaking to hasten to France’s assistance should her territory be wantonly invaded by Germany.  The case thus provided for is extremely improbable.  The expansion of Germany, when the auspicious hour strikes, will presumably be inaugurated on wholly new lines, against which armies, even if they can be mobilized in time, will be of little avail.  But if force were resorted to, it is almost certain to be used in the direction where the resistance is least—­against France’s ally, Poland.  This, however, is by the way.  The point made by the Italians was that the League of Nations being thus admittedly powerless to discharge the functions which alone could render strategic frontiers unnecessary, can consequently no longer be relied upon as an adequate protection against the dangers which the possession of the strongholds she claimed on the Adriatic would effectively displace.  Either the League, it was argued, can, as asserted, protect the countries which give up commanding positions to potential enemies, or it cannot.  In the former hypothesis France’s insistence on a military convention is mischievous and immoral—­in the latter Italy stands in as much need of the precautions devised as her neighbor.  But her spokesmen were still plied with the threadbare arguments and bereft of the countervailing corrective.  And faith in the efficacy of the League was sapped by the very men who were professedly seeking to spread it.

The press of Rome, Turin, and Milan pointed to the loyalty of the Italian people, brought out, they said, in sharp relief by the discontent which the exclusive character of that triple military accord engendered among them.  As kinsmen of the French it was natural for Italians to expect that they would be invited to become a party to this league within the League.  As loyal allies of Britain and France they felt desirous of being admitted to the alliance.  But they were excluded.  Nor was their exasperation allayed by the assurance of their press that this was no alliance, but a state of tutelage.  An alliance, it was explained, is a compact by which two or more parties agree to render one another certain services under given conditions, whereas the convention in question is a one-sided undertaking on the part of Britain and the United States to protect France if wantonly attacked, because she is unable efficaciously to protect herself.  It is a benefaction.  But this casuistry fell upon deaf ears.  What the people felt was the disesteem—­the term in vogue was stronger—­in which they were held by the Allies, whom they had saved perhaps from ruin.