e
attempt failed dismally.

There was not a responsive throb, not even a vague echo. Mr. Knox
knew that he possessed not the merest shred of the leadership
necessary to a presidential candidate.

He went back to the Senate, where he had succeeded Matthew Quay
upon his resignation from the Cabinet, sadder if wiser, while
William H. Taft draped upon his broad shoulders the mantle of
Roosevelt.

Mr. Knox has never quite recovered from that disappointment, but he
did not altogether abandon hope. He accepted a place in the Taft
Cabinet as Secretary of State, more for the opportunities it
offered than for the pleasure of the associations, for Mr. Knox's
attitude toward President Taft was never more than passive
tolerance tinged with contempt. This new venture was no more
successful than the old. He made it quite evident that a new regime
was to be established in the State Department. The policies
originated by John Hay and developed with singular brilliancy by
Mr. Root were shunted into the background and a new era was
proclaimed. It is unnecessary to comment on the dismal essay at
"dollar diplomacy" and the Mexican policy of that period. The
simple fact is that Mr. Knox's name is not associated with a single
successful foreign policy. Some might have succeeded but
unfortunately the energy displayed at the outset of his career in
this new field was soon dissipated. Mr. Knox disliked the methods
of diplomacy. He lacked both the patience and the finesse. He went
to the Department, over which he was supposed to preside, but
rarely. For weeks at a time Washington saw nothing of him. The
administration of the Department was left largely to Huntington
Wilson, whose ineptitude was colossal.

Fortunately for Mr. Knox the extent of his failure was somewhat
screened from public view by the dust and clatter of the collapse
of the Taft Administration, but it left its mark on him. He had
failed dismally to eclipse his predecessor, Elihu Root. He had
eliminated himself from all consideration as one of the very great
statesmen of his period. He was a bitterly disappointed man. Not
only his associates but the members of the diplomatic corps were
made to feel the sting of his resentment against overwhelming
circumstances. Such references as that directed at the French
Ambassador, M. Jules Jusserand, now dean of the diplomatic corps,
whom he called "the magpie," cost him many friends.

Upon the inauguration of President Wilson Mr. Kno