'We read these things. They make not the smallest impression on us. Why? How is it that we are not horrified and do not resolve that not for a single day shall any preventable evil exist? How is it, that, on the contrary, for two years we have been cheerfully engaged in intensifying the sum of human suffering? Why are we so heedless? Why are we so callous? Why do we allow to be committed, in our name, a thousand atrocities, and to be written, in our name and for our delectation, a million vile words which reveal the most amazing lack either of feeling or of common sense? 'There have been crimes perpetrated by the politicians--by all the politicians--which no condemnation could fitly characterise. But the peoples must be blamed. The peoples support the war-making politicians. It is my business to follow the course of events day by day, and it is sometimes difficult to stand back and take a general view. Whenever I do so, I am appalled at the blundering or the wickedness of the leaders of the world. Without party prejudices or personal predilections, an impartial observer, I cannot conceive how it is possible to be always blind to the truth, the glaring truth, that since the Armistice we have never sought to make peace, but have sought only some pretext and method for prolonging the War. 'Hate exudes from every journal in speaking of certain peoples--a weary hate, a conventional hate, a hate which is always whipping itself into a passion. It is, perhaps, more strictly, apathy masquerading as hate--which is worst of all. The people are _blasé_: they seek only bread and circuses for themselves. They regard no bread for others as a rather boring circus for themselves.' Mr. Huddleston was present throughout most of the Conference. This is his verdict:-- ' ... Cynicism soon became naked. In the East all pretence of righteousness was abandoned. Every successive Treaty was more frankly the expression of shameful appetites. There was no pretence of conscience in politics. Force rules without disguise. What was still more amazing was the way in which strife was stirred up gratuitously. What advantage was it, even for a moment, to any one to foment civil war in Russia, to send against the unhappy, famine-stricken country army after army? The result was so obviously to consolidate the Bolshevist Government around which were obliged to rally all Russians who had the spirit of nationality. It seemed as if everywhere we were plotting our own ruin and hastening our own end. A strange dementia seized our rulers, who thought peace, replenishment of empty larders, the fraternisation of sorely tired nations, ignoble and delusive objects. It appeared that war was for evermore to be humanity's fate.