The net result, however, was an enormous demonstration of how the free-born American citizen can cheer for a democratic legend. Only the "Daily Chronicle" of the British papers sent a staff correspondent with Lloyd George and the hostile rest prepared to ignore or to scorn him. The Chronicle's accounts of audiences vaster than any possible in Britain and of enthusiasm more freely expressed than any Britain would deem quite seemly forced them into some measure of the same publicity themselves. And then Mr. Lloyd George had one of his lucky breaks.

The reparations situation seemed to be at a deadlock with affairs in the Ruhr getting nearer and nearer to disaster every day. Rolling through Canada one Monday morning Mr. Lloyd George, asked by the newspaper correspondents on the train what the answer to it all would be, said,

"The only solution of Europe's difficulties lies through the acceptance of the proposals made last year by your Mr. Secretary Hughes. But they were turned down," and he looked gravely out the car window. Now I don't know what will happen."

That remark was telegraphed all over the world. The correspondent of the Associated Press on the train was keen enough to send to his Washington Bureau a request that a question as to the then status of the

Hughes proposals be submitted at the meeting of President Coolidge with the Washington correspondents, scheduled for the next morning. The next morning that question was asked, and the answer was,

"The Hughes proposals still stand, but the initiative this time must come from Europe. We will participate in an independent investigation of Germany's capacity to pay, but all the nations concerned must ask us."

The deadlock had been broken by that remark in a railway car in Canada. At the end of a growingly demonstrative tour Mr. Lloyd George left Washington with a letter from President Coolidge congratulating him on an important work for international peace accomplished while here. The Baldwin government in London had taken up President Coolidge's hint and, though action was held up for months until M. Poincaré could devise a scheme of his own that would save the previous very hard face he had made at the first Hughes proposal, the second real effort to settle the war was under way.

Mr. Lloyd George was welcomed home to England. on the very eve of another general election. He was welcomed home amid scenes of enthusiasm equalled only during the war. His prestige was so restored that he was able to force a settlement, a settlement he had long desired, with the Asquithian wing of the

Liberal party. The reconciliation was affected too late to affect substantially the results of the election and as this is written a labor government seems inevitable in Britain. But the forces of liberalism have been united and there is even a chance that they may be further strengthened by accessions from the ranks of the non-Tory conservatives. Whether the latter happens or not Mr. Asquith's advancing age makes it certain that the vital element in the personnel of the liberal party will come from Mr. Lloyd George.

None of the correspondents who, like myself, spent a month with Mr. Lloyd George in his special train have any doubts of the vitality of his personality. A month in a special train will destroy hero worship if any exists. Personally I believe Mr. Lloyd George to possess more quality of charm and to exercise it more skillfully than any other man I know, perhaps than any other man I have read of. Through many irritations and through many disagreements the feeling persists, as it persisted in the other hard-bitten correspondents who made the trip, that the man himself is likeable. He is full of the quality called temperament. He has a nasty temper that animates a bitter tongue when it breaks from control. It breaks frequently over little things. But no observer can see him feel and sway an audience without realizing his beautiful skill and none can see his affection for

his daughter, Megan, without believing that the inner human qualities of the man are sound.

She is a remarkable girl, concentrating in herself and in her feminine way many of her father's qualities of brilliance. She is more than the confidante of his moods. She helps mould some and shares all his important thoughts. He is affectionate towards, but has little in common with the other members of his family. Mrs. Lloyd George, "Maggie," is the ideal squiress of the small country town. She is concerned with her household and the households of those with whom she comes in contact, however wide the contacts be. She is timid in society and always seems a little afraid of the great. But she knows all about babies and flowers and housekeeping and she worships the ground her own great man walks on. Neither of Mr. Lloyd George's surviving sons has given evidence of more than respectable ability and his other daughter, Mrs. Cary Evans is the wife of an Indian Civil Servant and contributes to her father's inner life only a very beautiful little granddaughter who makes him long, intimate and romping visits.

His career is full of instances of men with whom he had much in common but for whom he had little real affection. The single exception would probably be Bonar Law. There was real feeling, not to be accounted for by mere political loss, when he announced

to the House of Commons that his yokemate for seven years had collapsed under the strain. Despite Mr. Law's subsequent part in overthrowing the coalition Mr. Lloyd George has again and again testified to his affection for him. But, as has been said, Bonar Law was the exception. There remains now but Megan, and Megan shares among others her father's quality of ambition. A very good friend of hers told me she hopes for a brilliant marriage and her idea of a brilliant marriage is one in which her charm can help some fine man whom she loves in a good and important work, preferably in politics.

Mr. Lloyd George lacks Roosevelt's tremendous capacity to convince of his sincerity, but, in many ways, is like him in energy and in methods of using energy to good purpose. He moves so fast from one thing to another that people get only the flashes of the high lights, and by the time they are picking flaws in the shadows he is off making new high lights to dazzle them. His conquest of the fatigues of six thousand miles of travel and seventy-eight speeches in a month furnish American proof of an energy familiar enough to those who know him at home.

He is a tremendous worker, but not of the spadeworking type. When he was Prime Minister he was called shortly after 7 in the morning and all of the newspapers that matter and some people