That the dominant party’s plans had been sadly disarranged by Kern’s activities was disclosed in its resentment toward him manifested in the passage of a resolution two days after the passage of the bill “extending on behalf of the majority our thanks to the minority and the governor for their assistance in passing the Nicholson law, and especially to Senator Kern of Marion for his drug store amendment to said bill, which he failed to honor by his affirmative vote.”
This resolution was not a mere bit of jocularity, but an attempt to at least neutralize the responsibility of the Republican party in violating the Evansville pledge to the “wets.” Governor Matthews had taken no part in the fight and had merely signed the bill when presented to him in due course for his signature, and the introduction of his name was merely intended to call the attention of the “wets” to the fact that a Democratic governor had signed and not vetoed it. And the special reference to Kern was in line with the excuse made to the “wets” for failure to smother the bill or to hopelessly emasculate it that but for his resolution calling upon the committee to report it would not have seen the light of day. In this they succeeded. There was never a time after that when Kern was not looked upon as unfriendly by the so-called liberal element, and his mandatory resolution compelling a report on the Nicholson bill was always given as evidence of his hostility. As a matter of fact he was not in favor of the bill. He expressed his views in his vote on the final passage. But the Republican leaders had solemnly pledged the party to genuine temperance legislation and had been overwhelmingly placed in power with that understanding—at the same time receiving the support of the liberals through a secret understanding. The hypocrisy of their position disgusted Kern, who deliberately set about to compel them to legislate in accordance with pre-election promises to the temperance forces whose support they had received, or to expose their hypocrisy. He succeeded in both, and he was never forgiven by either the Republican politicians or the liberals. It is not recorded either that he ever profited greatly from the temperance people. But he satisfied himself.
All in all the session of 1895 was one of the most vicious in the history of the commonwealth. The charges made by Kern in his speech against the gerrymander were true. It was literally true that the Burns’ statutes purchased with the state’s money for the state, to be used during the session by members, were actually stolen and carried away. But he might have added that there have been few sessions of the Indiana legislature during which there was so much general talk of the corrupt use of money. The hotels swarmed with lobbyists, and even the female lobbyist, a rather rare species at that time in Indiana, made her appearance, and in one instance created something of a scandal by being ejected from a hotel. Until then most of the lobbying had been done in the capitol, openly, but this session ushered in a new departure—the lobbyists did their work in hotels and other places.
This ended Kern’s career in the state senate. It had profited him greatly in that it had presented to the Democracy of the state a new Kern—a Kern seasoned, sobered by experience, who retained his youthful fire, intensity and eloquence. He entered the senate personally popular and widely known, but generally looked upon as a merely effective campaign speaker; he left it a recognized leader of the party in the state.
The estimate of his colleagues has been furnished me by Hon. M. A. Sweeney of Jasper, who served with him:
“He was by common consent, and without the least assumption on his part, the admired and beloved leader of our party there. I feel fully justified in asserting that no member on either side of that body of legislators ever questioned his mental superiority, personal integrity or magnanimity. In that arena of public debate, in which the flow and ebb of acrimonious clashings in verbal swordsmanship afford so splendid an opportunity to draw the line of cleavage between the cheap politician and the true gentleman and statesman, it was there he stood without a peer, personifying the calmness of power.
“His kind assistance to, and his painstaking patience with the embryonic, ambitious, would-be statesmen of his own or of the opposite party, were almost paternal in him; if your cause had merit, you ever found a true and helpful friend. No matter how arduous and exacting his senatorial duties were, and they were multifarious and onerous, he never hesitated to listen graciously to our crude ideas of state craft, and he gave very much of his valuable time in aiding and advising us in whipping into legal forms statutes the vain glory for which was worn by others, while he was always willing to remain unknown in all such affairs. He did not have an enemy in that body, and if he had it was not Senator Kern’s fault, for his suavity of manner and his courtliness of bearing toward every one won all to him.
“His arguments before the senate, or before its important committees, coming from his well-stored and well-balanced mind, always gained keen attention, for they were characterized by clearness, force, and dignity of diction; they were made to enlighten and instruct his audience, and he never permitted himself to descend to buncombe, billingsgate, specious pleading, or petty politics. His language was chaste Anglo-Saxon ‘from the pure well of English unalloyed.’ He preferred to inform his hearers by presenting plain, pertinent facts rather than to resort to the tricks of the rhetorician in order to secure the passing tribute of applause.”