I

NO single administration since the days of Jefferson has ever approached the record of the first administration of Woodrow Wilson in constructive achievement, either in the quantity or quality of it. One month after assuming office the congress was called in extraordinary session, and from April 7th, 1913, until October 24th, 1914, it was kept continuously at the grind, engaged all the while with administrative and party measures of the first magnitude. During the four years that Senator Kern had the grave responsibility of piloting these measures through the senate, the congress was in session 1,022 days, which means that out of four years there were only eleven months that it was not engaged with a legislative program of vital importance. During the first two years the responsibility upon the senate leader was especially heavy because of the meager Democratic majority and the ever-present possibility that some few Democrats might refuse to work in harness and thus precipitate confusion, embarrassment and defeat. The program throughout was uncompromisingly progressive, and in accord with party sentiment, but there were not a few Democratic senators of reactionary or ultra-conservative tendencies who were not enthusiastic over the program, and it was necessary to cultivate by conciliation the few Republicans of progressive leanings. When after four months the Underwood tariff law was passed, The Boston Herald, commenting on the victory, called attention to the fact that a president usually had his wishes reasonably met in the house, but disregarded by the senate, said that “Mr. Wilson with a small majority in the senate has been able to hold it in line.” And yet there were animated discussions and numerous disagreements among the majority senators that had to be ironed out in caucuses; one Democratic senator bolted the caucus and denounced it as being “machine-run” on the senate floor; and during the intolerable sultry days of the mid-summer it was with the greatest difficulty that all the Democrats were kept in Washington and within call in the event of a Republican “surprise.” Even at its best the national capital is not a summer resort. The heat is intensified by the humidity, and the town swelters and steams. The senate chamber, with no outside ventilation, the light streaming gloomily through the glass above, becomes deadening and depressing, and even the great revolving fans fail to make it comfortable. As the tariff fight dragged on into July and August and the call of the seashore and the mountains became insistent, it was with difficulty that the Democratic majority could be maintained in Washington. And even when they remained in Washington it was almost impossible to keep a quorum at the capitol. Walter Johnson was pitching at the ball park, the racing season was on in Maryland, the refreshing shadows of Rock Creek park were an attraction, and after responding to the morning roll call the senators drifted from the chamber and away from the hill, and for days at a time the senate, seen from the gallery, seemed deserted. But some one had to know where to reach them should the enemy plan a surprise attack; some one had to remain in the chamber throughout the day on guard—and that “some one” was Kern. The man who for years had so weakened in mid-summer as to make it necessary for him to seek the breezes of Michigan, was forced to shut himself within the stuffy chamber in one of the most enervating summer cities in the country. This eternal watchfulness and anxiety told upon him, but he was sustained by his joy in seeing the things he had so long sought being realized. At times when the regular Democratic attendance had dwindled to a corporal’s guard his impatience manifested itself in caucus, where on one occasion he supplemented his appeal with sarcastic protests, and a “party whip” was selected to assist him. The “whip” sent out an eloquent letter of appeal, apologizing in advance for the unpleasant necessity of insisting upon a regular attendance, and almost immediately disappeared. On his return Kern accosted him effusively in the cloak room:

“I am delighted to find you have recovered,” he said. “Your appearance is good and I hope you are now feeling better.”

The flabbergasted statesman, taken by surprise, stammered:

“But, Senator, I have not been ill.”

“Not ill?” said Kern. “Well, I had not seen you around for several days and supposed, of course, that you were ill.”

Another senator who had been enjoying the shades of the verandas and wooded spaces of a summer resort was wired by Kern to return to Washington as he was needed. His secretary called upon the Indianian the next day to explain that his chief’s return had been delayed by his inability to get a seat in the chair car. Taking from his vest pocket a number of clippings from The Washington Post, Kern dryly observed that the senator had been playing a good game of golf, had attended a number of dances, and given a dinner.

Still another statesman, a popular figure among Democrats because of his impetuous partisan devotion upon the stump, remained in Washington at his home without so much as reporting for the morning roll call, and repeated expostulations failed to persuade him to resume his duties, until he was threatened with a denunciation and caucus action.

When at length the tariff bill was passed, the prevalent sentiment was for adjournment, but the president insisted upon the immediate consideration of the proposed Federal Reserve law. The country applauded, but there were gutteral grumblings in the cloak rooms.

Almost immediately opposition to many features of the administration’s measure asserted itself among Democratic senators; the demand was made for prolonged hearings; Senator Lewis assured The Chicago Inter Ocean that there would be no currency legislation that session; the committee on Banking and Currency found itself deadlocked and a caucus of Democratic senators was called to break it; until finally things were so whipped into shape that a Democratic conference was able to agree after the Thanksgiving holidays that there should be no Christmas recess unless the currency bill had passed by December 24th.