M. Clemenceau, whose remarkable mental alacrity, self-esteem, and love of sharp repartee occasionally betrayed him into tactless sallies and epigrammatic retorts, deeply wounded the pride of more than one delegate of the lesser Powers in a way which they deemed incompatible alike with circumspect statesmanship and the proverbial hospitality of his country.  For he is incapable of resisting the temptation to launch a bon mot, however stinging.  It would be ungenerous, however, to attach more importance to such quickly forgotten utterances than he meant them to carry.  An instance of how he behaved toward the representatives of Britain and France is worth recording, both as characterizing the man and as extenuating his offense against the delegates of the lesser Powers.

One morning[51] M. Clemenceau appeared at the Conference door, and seemed taken aback by the large number of unfamiliar faces and figures behind Mr. Balfour, toward whom he sharply turned with the brusque interrogation:  “Who are those people behind you?  Are they English?” “Yes, they are,” was the answer.  “Well, what do they want here?” “They have come on the same errand as those who are now following you.”  Thereupon the French Premier, whirling round, beheld with astonishment and displeasure a band of Frenchmen moving toward him, led by M. Pichon, the Minister of Foreign Affairs.  In reply to his question as to the motive of their arrival, he was informed that they were all experts, who had been invited to give the Conference the benefit of their views about the revictualing of Hungary.  “Get out, all of you.  You are not wanted here,” he cried in a commanding voice.  And they all moved away meekly, led by M. Pichon, the Minister of Foreign Affairs.  Their services proved to be unnecessary, for the result reached by the Conference was negative.

M. Tardieu cannot be separated from his chief, with whom he worked untiringly, placing at his disposal his intimate knowledge of the nooks and crannies of professional and unprofessional diplomacy.  He is one of the latest arrivals and most pushing workers in the sphere of the Old World statecraft, affects Yankee methods, and speaks English.  For several years political editor of the Temps, he obtained access to the state archives, and wrote a book on the Agadir incident which was well received, and also a monograph on Prince von Buelow, became Deputy, aimed at a ministerial portfolio, and was finally appointed Head Commissary to the United States.  Faced by difficulties there—­mostly the specters of his own former utterances evoked by German adversaries—­his progress at first was slow.  He was accused of having approved some of the drastic methods—­especially the U-boat campaign—­which the Germans subsequently employed, because in the year 1912, when he was writing on the subject, France believed that she herself possessed the best submarines, and she meant to employ them.  He was also challenged to deny that he had written,