I was then, in fact, aware only that I was seated between two men of strong and mutually unsympathetic natures; and that they seemed equally to feel this natural antagonism. Wilson revealed it by his request that he be allowed to speak last: he plainly wished to study his rival before he made his own oratorical appearance. Borah was even more palpably depressed by the presence, at the same table with him, of this strange, new, powerful personality, whose glittering intellect and polished manner were so strikingly contrasted with his own blunter, though, in their way, also powerful weapons and character. The Senator was so disturbed by this impact with Wilson’s personality that his own speech of the evening fell far below his usual high standard. He himself was so deeply impressed with this deficiency that twice afterward he recalled to me his comparative failure of that evening. These two men thus seemed predestined to a combat which with natures so intense and powerful could be nothing less than mortal. When, in 1920, Wilson lost (as I believe, only for the moment) his gallant campaign for the League of Nations, and fell truly a soldier stricken on the field of battle, partly because of blows that were dealt by Senator Borah, I could not but revert in memory to the vivid picture of that evening in New York in 1911, when the two men met and took each other’s measure. They were not alone in this measuring of mettle. Governor Wilson’s speech of that evening was a revelation to all of us who listened. We saw in him a man of lofty idealism, and a knightly spirit; his convictions grounded on the secure foundation of a deep study of governmental institutions, and of the history of the human race; his political philosophy erected symmetrically upon these firm foundations; its façade adorned with a beautiful conception of democracy and justice as the ideals of political endeavour. I, for one, felt that here truly was an inspired leader behind whom all men like myself could range themselves and know that their efforts to advance his fortunes would be an effective participation in the highest form of public service. My own acceptance of his leadership was instant and decisive. I asked him whether he was really a candidate for President of the United States, and told him that I had a definite object in asking him the question. I was delighted with his reply. Looking me squarely in the eye, he said: “I know a great deal more about the United States than I do about New Jersey.” “Governor,” I said, “my object in asking you this question was to offer my unreserved moral and financial support of your candidacy.” The enthusiastic impression I gained upon that evening was confirmed and strengthened two days later, when I attended the dinner of the National Democratic Club, at which the Governor was again a guest of honour. Here, again, he made a speech that was heartening to all who sought leadership in the struggle for the regeneration of America.