important points.  On the following morning, or a few days later, the world’s workers would meet again, and either begin at the beginning, traveling over the same familiar field, or else break fresh ground.  In this way in one day they are said to have skimmed the problems of Spitzbergen, Morocco, Dantzig, and the feeding of the enemy populations, leaving each problem where they had found it.  The moment the discussion of a contentious question approached a climax, the specter of disagreement deterred them from pursuing it to a conclusion, and they passed on quickly to some other question.  And when, after months had been spent in these Penelopean labors, definite decisions respecting the peace had to be taken lest the impatient people should rise up and wrest matters into their own hands, the delegates referred the various problems which they had been unable to solve to the wisdom and tact of the future League of Nations.

When misunderstandings arose as to what had been said or done it was the official translator, M. Paul Mantoux—­one of the most brilliant representatives of Jewry at the Conference—­who was wont to decide, his memory being reputed superlatively tenacious.  In this way he attained the distinction of which his friends are justly proud, of being a living record—­indeed, the sole available record—­of what went on at the historic council.  He was the recipient and is now the only repository of all the secrets of which the plenipotentiaries were so jealous, lest, being a kind of knowledge which is in verity power, it should be used one day for some dubious purpose.  But M. Mantoux enjoyed the esteem and confidence not only of Mr. Wilson, but also of the British Prime Minister, who, it was generally believed, drew from his entertaining narratives and shrewd appreciations whatever information he possessed about French politics and politicians.  It was currently affirmed that, being a man of method and foresight, M. Mantoux committed everything to writing for his own behoof.  Doubts, however, were entertained and publicly expressed as to whether affairs of this magnitude, involving the destinies of the world, should have been handled in such secret and unbusiness-like fashion.  But on the supposition that the general outcome, if not the preconceived aim, of the policy of the Anglo-Saxon plenipotentiaries was to confer the beneficent hegemony of the world upon its peoples, there could, it was argued, be no real danger in the procedure followed.  For, united, those nations have nothing to fear.

Although the translations were done rapidly, elegantly, and lucidly, allegations were made that they lost somewhat by undue compression and even by the process of toning down, of which the praiseworthy object was to spare delicate susceptibilities.  For a limited number of delicate susceptibilities were treated considerately by the Conference.  A defective rendering made a curious impression on the hearers once, when a delegate said:  “My country, unfortunately, is situated in the midst of states which are anything but peace-loving—­in fact, the chief danger to the peace of Europe emanates from them.”  M. Mantoux’s translation ran, “The country represented by M. X. unhappily presents the greatest danger to the peace of Europe.”