Colonel House was nothing until he gravitated to Mr.
Wilson. He is going back to be nothing to-day, nothing but a kind,
lovable man, a gentle soul rather unfitted for the world, with an
extraordinary capacity for friendship and sympathy, and that fine
pair of eyes.
I remember at Paris the affecting evidences of the little man's
loyalty to his great friend, of whom he could not speak without
emotion. He was never tired of dilating upon the wonder of
President Wilson's mind:
"I never saw," he would say, "so quick a mind, with such a capacity
for instant understanding. The President can go to the bottom of
the most difficult question as no one else in the world can."
House's endless "formulae" always bore the self-effacing condition,
"if Mr. Wilson approves." "If Mr. Wilson approves" was the D. V. of
Colonel House's religion. Too much awe of another mind is not good
for your own, or carries with it certain implications about your
own.
Colonel House's loyalty to Mr. Wilson did not, however, make him
hate the men at Paris who stood across the President's path. The
personal representative's heart was too catholic for that. He--
Liked what e're he looked on
And his looks went everywhere.
He had a kindly feeling for the "old man," Clemenceau. He was a
warm friend of Orlando, with whom Mr. Wilson had his quarrel over
Fiume.
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