enough” to set aside presidential programs, but this did not annoy Kern in the least. He was content that some one had been found in high station with enough strength and prescience to point the way to the realization of the things he had fought for for many years, and to lead. But this situation kept him busy at his work of conciliation and ironing out differences. It was here that the personality, the character of Kern counted. He was popular with his colleagues on the Democratic side of the chamber, and no one doubted the sincerity of the man who without pretense had grown gray working for the day that had finally dawned, and no one questioned the soundness of his political judgment. His personal appeals for “harness work” for the sake, not only of the immediate principle involved, but of the party’s future reputation as a constructive force, had effect. And it was here that his real strength as a leader impressed the superficial as a weakness. He never permitted temporary disagreements over single issues to deprive him of the friendship and confidence of the recalcitrant, or to lead him to hasty words of criticism or denunciation that would return to plague him in the next battle. When the seven senators deserted and bolted the caucus on the Ship Purchase bill he was saddened by the possibilities of serious future disagreements, but he was silent. Other Democratic senators took it upon themselves to bitterly denounce the “bolters” on the floor of the senate, and some thought this presumption an act of leadership of which Kern was incapable. They were right. It did not appeal to him as wise leadership to drive these men into chronic opposition to administration measures. Kern was too tactful to have broken off relations with all his fellow Democrats who might at times wander from “the reservation.” He was not a bull in the china shop type of leader--fortunately for the Wilson administration and the party.