An angry book, by an old, old man. The Tiger, like Bismarck, spent the last years of his life in bemoaning the destruction of his work, and this volume may well be compared to the third volume of Bismarck's memoirs. But Clemenceau, the disillusioned skeptic and agnostic, would probably have taken his bitterness with him to the grave had it not been for the publication of Foch's conversations with Recouly, which brought the blood of the old fighter to the boil. The full details of the personal differences between the two men present an extremely unedifying picture. The importance of the present volume lies chiefly in the discussion of Clemenceau's attitude toward the peace settlement and the demands raised by Foch and Poincaré. Clemenceau certainly deserves credit for having resisted the dangerous demand for the Rhine frontier, though little enough can be said for his unbending and unrelenting attitude towards those who, after the war, tried to restore international confidence. The book may not enhance his reputation, but it is a true reflection of the man, with all his greatness and all his narrow bigotry. He may not have been a good subject for hero worship, but he was a personality.