Prior to 1914 Reid was developing a plan for a pulp and paper mill on the Humber River, but it was soon abandoned when war broke out. With costs rising and the construction of the branch lines curtailed, the company began to lose money, and he himself took a hand in the operation of the railway. He was irritable and arbitrary. According to a former employee, {d-0}He upset the entire staff with spur of the moment dismissals or promotions and a peculiar system whereby engines were assigned to particular jobs or sections and only certain engines were allowed to handle express trains. . . . Staff turnover was extremely high.{d-1} Although he was awarded a knighthood in the New Year{apos}s honours list of 1916, he sank into a gloom in July of that year when Robert Bruce Reid, his eldest son and heir apparent, was killed at Beaumont-Hamel (Beaumont), France, fighting with the Newfoundland Regiment [see Owen William Steele*].

[I am grateful for the personal recollections supplied by Ian Job Reid of St John{apos}s, a grandson of W. D., during interviews in 1997. Mr Reid also provided access to family papers in his possession. r.r.]

AO, RG 80-5-0-213, no.3979. Canadian Pacific Arch. (Montreal), RG 1 (William Van Horne corr.); RG 2 (T. G. Shaughnessy corr.). Centre for Newfoundland Studies, Arch., Memorial Univ. of Nfld (St John{apos}s), Reid papers. New South Wales Registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages (Sydney, Australia), Pioneers index, 1867/99. PANL, MG 17, esp. file 412. Cadet (St John{apos}s), March 1915: 19–20; March 1916: 9–10. Canadian Railway and Marine World (Toronto), [19] (1916): 55–56; 27 (1924): 178. W. J. Chafe, I{apos}ve been working on the railroad: memoirs of a railwayman, 1911–1962 (St John{apos}s, 1987). Engineering News and American Contract Journal (New York), 18 (July–December 1887): 270–72. J. K. Hiller, The Newfoundland Railway, 1881–1949 (St John{apos}s, 1981); {d-0}The politics of newsprint: the Newfoundland pulp and paper industry, 1915–1939,{d-1} Acadiensis (Fredericton), 19 (1989–90), no.2: 3–39; {d-0}The railway and local politics in Newfoundland, 1870–1901,{d-1} in Newfoundland in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries: essays in interpretation, ed. J. [K.] Hiller and P. [F.] Neary (Toronto, 1980), 123–47. P. T. McGrath, Newfoundland in 1911: being the coronation year of King George V and the opening of the second decade of the twentieth century (London, 1911). A. B. Morine, The railway contract, 1898, and afterwards, 1883–1933 (St John{apos}s, 1933). P. B. Motley, {d-0}Double tracking of the Canadian Pacific{apos}s St. Lawrence River bridge,{d-1} Canadian Railway and Marine World, [17] (1914): 149–56. A. R. Penney, A history of the Newfoundland Railway (2v., St John{apos}s, 1988–90).

Dyce W. Saunders was educated at Trinity College School in Port Hope, Ont., where he played some of his earliest cricket. In 1879 he was captain and wicketkeeper for Trinity{apos}s first eleven. Later that year he was admitted into the Law Society of Upper Canada as a student-at-law. Articled with Kingsmill, Cattanach, and Symons in Toronto, he joined this firm after he was called to the bar in Michaelmas term 1884. Saunders would remain with Kingsmill for his entire career, becoming a partner in 1891 and senior partner in 1913. He served as president of the County of York Law Association in 1906-7, was named kc in 1908, and was elected a bencher of the law society on 23 Nov. 1922. Despite such recognition, little is known of his legal work; in 1928 he was appointed to chair a board of arbitration over a wage dispute at the Toronto Transportation Commission.

As a law student, Saunders had lived with his sisters who ran a private school in Yorkville (Toronto). After coming to Toronto, he had continued his interest in cricket, as a wicketkeeper for both the Guelph Cricket Club and the Toronto Cricket Club, his sporting home for over 40 years. Cricket was a gentlemen{apos}s sport, the preserve largely of a male elite who supported a code that eschewed professionalism. Contests between local clubs were social affairs; greater importance was attached to international contests, called test matches. Saunders{apos}s first international appearance came in 1881 at age 19 against the United States; he went on to play in the annual international match versus the United States 12 times. Between 1885 and 1905 he represented Canada on 20 occasions against teams from America, Ireland, Scotland, and England. In 1887 he and fellow lawyer and TCC member George Goldwin Smith Lindsey assembled an all-star Canadian team for a tour of England, which they chronicled in a book written largely for insiders. The {d-0}gentlemen of Canada{d-1} had embarked {d-0}to learn upon the English cricket fields by the lesson of experience the best features of the good old game.{d-1} In doing so they hoped to {d-0}inaugurate a new era in Canadian Cricket.{d-1} Saunders, who participated in 17 of the team{apos}s 19 matches between 30 June and 27 August (five wins, five loses, nine draws), finished with the second-highest batting average on the squad, 23.58 runs per inning. He would take part in another tour of England in 1922. The {d-0}new era{d-1} in cricket at home did not happen, however. The continued play of the game for elitist recreation and socialization meant that it would not become widely popular in Canada.

Saunders{apos}s reputation was based on both his play as a wicketkeeper, a position of responsibility on the pitch, and his administrative work for cricket. On 28 March 1892 he was one of 34 delegates, all male and most based in Toronto, at the founding meeting there of the Canadian Cricket Association. From 1904 to 1908 he was its president. The association oversaw the J. Ross Robertson Cricket Cup, which recognized the winner of a national competition; in 1911 Saunders was the trustee of this trophy. At his death he was honorary vice-president of the TCC and the Toronto District Cricket Council. By this time, however, the game had declined in the limited popularity it enjoyed. Cricket and international competition were attracting little attention from the sports press as it followed games with broader consumer appeal, such as baseball and hockey, which were often dominated by professional teams.

Outside law and cricket, Saunders{apos}s interests included Anglicanism and its educational offshoots. (A Conservative, he was never active politically.) Following his marriage to Amy Bréhaut in 1889, Saunders had settled on Lowther Avenue in Yorkville; for their entire married life they would live in exclusive neighbourhoods in north Toronto. By early 1891 the couple had joined the Anglo-Catholic congregation of St Thomas{apos}s Church on Huron Street, where Dyce became a chorister, a representative to synod, and a warden. In this last capacity he was instrumental in 1908 in the construction of a parish hall and the purchase of an adjacent house for use as a rectory. In addition, the church acquired the former residence of Edward Blake*, Humewood, which was converted and opened in 1912 as a maternity home, with Saunders as a trustee. In St Thomas{apos}s, a window was donated by the Saunderses in memory of their eldest son, Thomas Brehaut, a lieutenant in the Royal Highlanders of Canada who was killed in action at Sanctuary Wood in Belgium on 16 Oct. 1916. Saunders participated as well in the Missionary Society of the Church of England in Canada and was a member of the national committee of the Laymen{apos}s Missionary Movement. From May 1927 until his death he was chancellor of the diocese of Toronto. In education, he was secretary of Bishop Bethune College in Oshawa and a member of the board of governors of Trinity College School (where he led a fund-raising campaign for a new building) and, in Toronto, of the council of Bishop Strachan School and the corporation of Trinity University.

Saunders was in London to argue a case before the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council, and to take in a cricket match, when he died suddenly in June 1930. Following a service there at Grosvenor Chapel on South Audley Street, his remains were cremated; his modest estate was valued at $26,000. On his passing, noted sportswriter William Abraham Hewitt* called the former wicketkeeper the {d-0}dean of Canadian cricket.{d-1} The Toronto Daily Star recalled that {d-0}in the days when international cricket was played between Canada and the United States, an international team was said not to be complete without him.{d-1} Despite these accolades, obituaries in Toronto and Guelph newspapers drew more attention to Saunders{apos}s legal career and diocesan contributions than to his lifelong involvement with cricket.

ANQ-M, CE601-S77, 12 sept. 1889. AO, RG 22-305, no.65064; RG 80-27-2, 79: 21. Law Soc. of Upper Canada Arch. (Toronto), 1-1 (Convocation, minutes), 18: 205-6; Ontario bar biog. research project database. Gazette (Montreal), 14 Sept. 1889. Globe, 14 June 1930. Guelph Weekly Mercury and Advertiser, 12, 19 Sept. 1889. Times (London), 14, 17 June 1930. Toronto Daily Star, 13 June 1930. K. E. Boller, {d-0}Canada has colourful cricket history{d-1} (typescript, Toronto, 1984; revised 2001; copy available at the Canadian Cricket Assoc., Mississauga, Ont.); {d-0}Canadian Cricket Association celebrates centenary, 1892-1992,{d-1} Canadian Cricketer (Toronto), 20 (1992), no.1: 4; {d-0}Canadian wicket-keeper Dyce Saunders could bat with the best{d-1} (typescript, Toronto, 1983; copy available at the Canadian Cricket Assoc.). Canada Law Journal (Toronto), 21 (1885): 27. Canadian annual rev., 1922: 674; 1928-29: 210. David Cooper, {d-0}Canadians declare {s-0}It Isn{apos}t Cricket{s-1-unknown}: a century of rejection of the imperial game, 1860-1960,{d-1} Journal of Sport Hist. ([Lamont, Pa]), 26 (1999): 51-81. Directory, Toronto, 1884-1930. J. E. Hall and R. O. McCulloch, Sixty years of Canadian cricket (Toronto, 1895). Household of God: a parish history of St. Thomas{apos}s Church, Toronto, ed. D. A. Kent (Toronto, 1993). Alan Metcalfe, Canada learns to play: the emergence of organized sport, 1807-1914 (Toronto, 1987).

SCALLION, JAMES WILLIAM, teacher, farmer, and agrarian leader; b. 14 Feb. 1842 in County Wexford (Republic of Ireland), elder son of William Scallion and Catherine O{apos}Donohue; d. unmarried 24 April 1926 in Virden, Man.

By 1900 Manitoba{apos}s economy was booming. Farmers were creating huge surpluses of grain for export, but most believed that their prosperity was greatly impeded by high tariffs and the monopoly grain-elevator companies held on the local market. To avoid the high dockage fees exacted by these companies and the low prices they paid, farmers wanted to load boxcars directly and ship their grain themselves. The federal government responded with the Manitoba Grain Act of 1900, which required railway companies to make grain cars available to farmers as requested. Bumper wheat crops in 1901 and 1902 created a severe shortage of cars, however, and farmers believed that elevator companies received precedence. This situation persuaded agriculturists in the North-West Territories to strengthen their voice by forming the first grain growers{s-1-unknown} association, officially established in January 1902. Scallion joined a committee of agriculturalists from Virden to arrange a special meeting with William Richard Motherwell*, one of the founders of the Territorial Grain Growers{s-1-unknown} Association. The meeting, held on 7 Jan. 1903, resulted in the formation of the Virden Grain Growers{s-1-unknown} Association with Scallion as president. Scallion travelled extensively across Manitoba, encouraging other communities to follow Virden{apos}s example, until the Manitoba Grain Growers{s-1-unknown} Association, a provincial organization independent of the territorial organization, was created in Brandon in March 1903. Scallion, chosen president, told the assembly that {d-0}40,000 farmers had produced 100,000 bushels of wheat and they should all be wealthy but where was the wealth? Certainly not in the farmers{s-1-unknown} hands but in the homes of the manufacturers, railway promoters, and grain dealers.{d-1} In 1904, suffering from impaired hearing, he retired as president; he would remain honorary president for life. He continued to travel to meetings across the province, urging support for the establishment of a cooperative grain company. Formed in 1906 to handle members{s-1-unknown} grain in competition with private companies, the Grain Growers{s-1-unknown} Grain Company would evolve into the United Grain Growers Limited in 1917.

In December 1910 Scallion joined other agrarian leaders, such as Ernest Charles Drury*, Robert Sellar*, and James Speakman*, in taking a delegation of over 800 farmers to Ottawa to put their grievances directly before the Canadian government. At the meeting there, Scallion spoke in support of the removal of the high tariff that crippled farmers who were dependent upon imports of agricultural products and implements from the United States. The election of 1911 was fought primarily on the issue of reciprocity with the United States, but the Liberals, whose finance minister, William Stevens Fielding, had introduced the reciprocity agreement, were defeated. The fact that some prominent Liberals, including Clifford Sifton, opposed reciprocity heightened farmers{s-1-unknown} belief that neither political party represented the interests of western farmers.

By the end of World War I farmers were ready to take political action. The national farmers{s-1-unknown} platform of resolutions first presented in 1910 [see Speakman] was revised in 1918 and farmers were encouraged to vote for candidates who endorsed it. In January 1920 the Manitoba Grain Growers{s-1-unknown} Association adopted the platform, changed its own name to the United Farmers of Manitoba, and committed itself to political action. Scallion was nominated for the presidency of the new organization, but his name was withdrawn because he was too ill to serve. In 1922 the United Farmers formed the first farmers{s-1-unknown} government in Manitoba under John Bracken*. That same year the Manitoba Agricultural College honoured Scallion for {d-0}his contribution to the social and economic betterment of the farm community.{d-1} He had taken the first steps in his province to provide farmers with a mechanism for altering the balance of economic power in western Canada.

AO, RG 2-128-1-3; RG 2-128-6-2; RG 2-301-1-3, certificate 2499. LAC, RG 31, C1, 1861, Ancaster, Ont.; 1871, Delaware, Ont.; 1881, Thorold, Ont.; 1891, 1901, Virden, Man. Man., Legislative Library (Winnipeg), Biog. scrapbooks, B8: 73. Brandon Daily Sun (Brandon, Man.), 1903-26. Grain Growers{s-1-unknown} Guide (Winnipeg), 1910-26. Manitoba Free Press, 1903-26. Virden Empire-Advance, 1907-26. Ida Clingan, The Virden story, 1882-1957: Virden{apos}s 75th anniversary celebration, July 21 to 26, 1957 (Virden, 1957). R. D. Colquette, The first fifty years: a history of the United Grain Growers Limited (Winnipeg, 1957). F. H. Schofield, The story of Manitoba (3v., Winnipeg, 1913). L. A. Wood, A history of farmers{s-1-unknown} movements in Canada (Toronto, 1924; repr., intro. F. J. K. Griezic, Toronto and Buffalo, N.Y., 1975).

William D. Scott was descended from Scottish Presbyterian pioneers in Dundas. In 1925 the Ottawa Evening Citizen would note that {d-0}the old Scott homestead, {s-0}Craigleith,{s-1-unknown} is one of the beauty spots of the district, comprising 15 acres of undulating garden and orchard.{d-1} Educated at Dundas High School, Scott began studies to become a lawyer. In 1881 he abandoned this career and went to Manitoba, where he was employed by the Canadian Pacific Railway as a land agent, thus commencing a career of over 40 years in the area of immigration and settlement.

Scott joined the Manitoba immigration office in Toronto as a clerk in January 1889. In October 1890 he was put in charge of Manitoba{apos}s immigration program in central and eastern Canada. A slogan used on the letterhead of his office reads, {d-0}Help to keep Canadians in Canada.{d-1} He aggressively promoted the western province in Ontario, Quebec, and the Maritimes, as well as in Michigan, attending dozens of meetings of Farmers{s-1-unknown} Institutes and farmers{s-1-unknown} picnics. He had to persuade potential settlers that it was worth their while to purchase land in Manitoba, where free land was largely already taken, rather than seek free homesteads farther west, and also {d-0}that in settling in Manitoba they are not leaving civilization, but going into a country with all the advantages of churches, schools, roads, etc.{d-1} When he met steamers in Halifax and Montreal, he had to counter propaganda amongst prospective immigrants to the effect that there was no work in Manitoba and that they {d-0}would freeze in winter.{d-1}

Clifford Sifton, minister of the interior in Sir Wilfrid Laurier*{apos}s government, recommended Scott to the minister of agriculture, Sydney Arthur Fisher, for a place on the commission charged with preparing the Canadian exhibit at the universal exposition in Paris in 1900, an appointment made officially from 1 Jan. 1899. Scott was delighted to accept the post, believing, as he told Sifton, {d-0}I can do credit to our Western Country and to your Government.{d-1} The exhibit was a great success, and Scott subsequently promoted Canada at exhibitions in Glasgow, London, Wolverhampton, and Cork. He also supervised the erection of the great arch of Canadian grain in Whitehall for the coronation of Edward VII in 1902. The following year, on 5 January, Sifton appointed him superintendent of immigration in the Department of the Interior. Scott retained this position until 20 Feb. 1919 when he was made assistant deputy minister of the recently created Department of Immigration and Colonization.

The most extensive exposition of Scott{apos}s thinking is in his 1913 essay for Canada and its provinces, {d-0}Immigration and population.{d-1} Between 1905 and 1911 he was interviewed periodically by the House of Commons standing committee on agriculture and colonization, and here too his ideas sometimes emerge. His statements faithfully reflected the views of the government. Its purpose was to encourage {d-0}farmers, farm labourers and domestic servants{d-1} from the United States, Great Britain, and northern Europe. In advertising, a major issue was {d-0}how Canada may be prominently brought before the countries whose climatic conditions promise a suitable class of settlers for the Dominion.{d-1} Scott denied an opposition charge in 1905 that Canada was receiving the {d-0}offscourings of civilization,{d-1} insisting that {d-0}we are getting a fine class of people.{d-1} He later pointed out that between 1900 and 1907 Canada received 7,000 more settlers from the British Isles than did the United States. As for {d-0}foreigners,{d-1} the government{apos}s policy, Scott assured its critics, was to {d-0}try to scatter them as much as possible.{d-1} Moreover, {d-0}we put these foreigners on land that you could not put English-speaking settlers on,{d-1} on {d-0}the poorest land.{d-1}

In his day Scott was recognized for presiding over the years of record immigration to Canada before World War I, and in particular for the growth of population in the west. Yet more recent writers have associated him with policies of restriction and deportation, especially with strict implementation of the changes to the Immigration Act passed with near-parliamentary unanimity between 1906 and 1910. Indeed, the opposition charged the government with being insufficiently restrictive, and with inadequate inspection of intending immigrants resulting in unnecessarily high levels of deportation. Scott pointed out that policy changes in 1910 were intended to exclude {d-0}undesirables,{d-1} which included the {d-0}physically, mentally or morally unfit,{d-1} those {d-0}unlikely to assimilate,{d-1} and those likely to add to urban congestion. Regulations deliberately impeded immigration from Asia and from southern and eastern Europe. Scott developed the curious argument that the open-door policy of previous years actually had discouraged desirable immigrants who saw that {d-0}all and sundry might enter,{d-1} whereas the new restrictions made Canada attractive to them because they now had confidence {d-0}that due care is being exercised in the admission of new settlers.{d-1} In Scott{apos}s opinion, readiness {d-0}to assimilate and adopt Canadian customs . . . should be the final test as to the desirability of any class of immigrants.{d-1} It was essential to sift {d-0}{s-0}the wheat from the chaff{s-1-unknown} in the multitudes who seek [Canada{apos}s] shores.{d-1}

In 1911 responsibility for Chinese immigration was moved from the Department of Trade and Commerce to the Department of the Interior, and on 2 October Scott was given the additional task of chief controller of Chinese immigration. As his title implied, the government{apos}s purpose was to restrict such immigration, with greater limits on the movement of Chinese immigrants and fewer exemptions from the $500 head tax for those registered in educational institutions, as well as enforcement of the {d-0}continuous journey{d-1} requirement for intending immigrants [see Harnam Kaur*]. Still, the Chinese continued to come in record numbers, so in 1915 the Conservative government of Sir Robert Laird Borden* prohibited arrival at British Columbia ports of artisans and labourers, skilled or unskilled, a measure that dramatically reduced the numbers; only merchants and their families and those attending institutions of higher learning were admitted. This exclusionary policy was formalized by the Liberal administration of William Lyon Mackenzie King* in the Chinese Immigration Act of 1923.

In failing health, Scott retired from the public service on 30 June 1924. The following winter a cold led to pneumonia and other complications which resulted in his death on 27 Jan. 1925. He had been an able and respected civil servant who contributed strongly to the implementation of the immigration policy of the governments of the day, much of it discriminatory on racial grounds, while avoiding controversy. He also was, as obituaries put it, {d-0}a man of the most kindly disposition and beloved by all who knew him,{d-1} who had provided {d-0}earnest, anonymous, yet distinguished service.{d-1}

William Duncan Scott is the author of {d-0}Immigration and population,{d-1} in Canada and its provinces: a history of the Canadian people and their institutions . . . , ed. Adam Shortt and A. G. Doughty (23v., Toronto, 1913-17), 7: 517-90.

LAC, MG 27, II, D15; MG 30, C62. Globe, 27 Jan. 1925. Manitoba Free Press, 28 Jan. 1925. Ottawa Citizen, 27-29 Jan. 1925. Ottawa Evening Journal, 27-29 Jan. 1925. Ruth Cameron, {d-0}The wheat from the chaff: Canadian restrictive immigration policy, 1905-1911{d-1} (ma thesis, Concordia Univ., Montreal, 1976). Can., Dept. of the Secretary of State, The civil service list of Canada . . . (Ottawa), 1918; House of Commons, Journals, 1905-10/11; Parl., Sessional papers, 1904-25. Canadian men and women of the time (Morgan; 1912). Cyclopædia of Canadian biog. (Rose and Charlesworth), vol.3. Ninette Kelley and Michael Trebilcock, The making of the mosaic: a history of Canadian immigration policy (Toronto, 1998). Valerie Knowles, Strangers at our gates: Canadian immigration and immigration policy, 1540-1997 (rev. ed., Toronto, 1997). P. S. Li, The Chinese in Canada (Toronto, 1988). Man., Legislative Assembly, Sessional papers, 1889-99. Barbara Roberts, Whence they came: deportation from Canada, 1900-1935 (Ottawa, 1988).

In the spring of 1865 - evidently en route to the Big Bend of the Columbia River, which at the time was experiencing a gold rush of its own - Semlin came to Cache Creek. It would remain his home for the rest of his life. He soon found work in the area at Ashcroft Manor, managing the roadhouse and adjacent ranch of Clement Francis Cornwall and his brother Henry. Several months later he and a partner, Philip Parke, purchased a roadhouse of their own, Bonaparte House. Their advertisements stressed its strategic location at the junction of the wagon roads north to the Cariboo and east to Savona{apos}s Ferry (Savona) and the upper Thompson River. Parke sold out his interest to Wilson Henry Sanford in 1868 and in 1870 Semlin took over Sanford{apos}s share. Semlin traded the hotel to James Campbell in 1870, exchanging it for ranch land. He had been acquiring land in the area since 1867 through pre-emption and purchase. He gradually consolidated his holdings into one of the largest ranches in the region, which he would operate as the Dominion Ranch until his death in 1927.

Although Semlin became a successful rancher - the Dominion Ranch carried 15,000 head of cattle and was one of the most notable of the large interior ranches - he also engaged in many activities typical of early European settlers. He was the first postmaster in Cache Creek, for example. In 1873 he successfully lobbied the government for a public boarding school in the interior, so that the region{apos}s scattered population of school-age children could receive formal education. As an mla, he introduced the legislation of 1874 that led to the establishment of the school in Cache Creek and he oversaw its official opening in June.

Semlin{apos}s career as a politician had begun in 1871, when he was elected in Yale to the inaugural session of the provincial legislature following British Columbia{apos}s entry into confederation that year. His election was fortuitous. He and another candidate having tied for third place in the three-member riding, the returning officer allegedly put their names in a hat and declared Semlin elected when his name was drawn. His first years as a politician were not especially notable. He ran unsuccessfully in Yale in the general elections of 1875 and 1878. Then his fortunes improved; he was returned in 1882 and would retain his seat in the general elections of 1886, 1890, 1894, and 1898. He became leader of the opposition after the election of 1894, largely in consequence of Robert Beaven*{apos}s failure to win re-election.

Semlin was premier of British Columbia for just 18 months, from 15 Aug. 1898 to 27 Feb. 1900. As many contemporaries later recalled, it was a tempestuous period, in part because of the loose affiliations and informal structures that held political groups together. Uniting such diverse elements would have been a formidable challenge for the most accomplished politician, and Semlin was not a forceful leader. His difficulties also reflected divisions within his cabinet, which included fellow Conservative Francis Lovett Carter-Cotton* as minister of finance and the mercurial Martin as attorney general. The two men detested each other, an animosity that contributed to the disintegration of the government. Semlin{apos}s efforts to initiate wide-ranging reforms compounded his problems. Moves such as legislating an eight-hour day for hardrock miners were angrily denounced by mine owners and led to a lengthy and bitter strike (June 1899-February 1900) in the Kootenays. Similarly, the many dismissals that accompanied efforts to purge the civil service of patronage appointments caused heated protests and further eroded government support.

A speech by Attorney General Martin ultimately led to the collapse of the Semlin government. On 20 June 1899, just after the Kootenay miners{s-1-unknown} strike began, Martin addressed a banquet in Rossland. Irate mine owners in attendance began to heckle. The speech deteriorated into a shouting match and ended in a brawl which had to be broken up by the police. Semlin demanded Martin{apos}s resignation, which he tendered only after the caucus had sided with the premier.

When the next legislative session began in January 1900, Martin sat with the opposition. Semlin had not enjoyed a comfortable majority even with Martin in the cabinet; his departure called the government{apos}s survival into question. The fatal blow came with the defeat at the end of February of a major government bill concerning electoral redistribution. When Semlin advised Lieutenant Governor McInnes of the defeat, he requested time to see if he could regain the confidence of the house. After several days of negotiations, he found several opposition figures willing to join his ministry. McInnes ignored this development and dismissed the government, calling on Martin to form a ministry. The lieutenant governor{apos}s decision created an uproar in the assembly, which responded by passing a motion of no-confidence in Martin. The political situation in British Columbia was degenerating into chaos. Martin could not govern without a popular mandate, which he failed to win in the provincial election of June 1900. McInnes then turned to James Dunsmuir* to form an administration.

Semlin, who had represented Yale since British Columbia entered confederation, did not stand for election in 1900. He later commented that {d-0}I felt that I had done my share, and that it was time that younger shoulders were taking up the burdens of public life.{d-1} He returned briefly to politics, winning a by-election early in 1903, but he opted not to run in the provincial election held that autumn. He campaigned once more, in 1907, but was unsuccessful.

Throughout his time as a politician Semlin had remained active in his community. He was said to have helped to form a local agricultural association in 1888, probably the Inland Agricultural Society of British Columbia of which he was elected president in 1889. He participated in the establishment of the British Columbia Cattlemen{apos}s Association in 1889 and he continued to play a role as the ranching industry faced a series of challenges, including greater competition from ranches in neighbouring Alberta, the formation and proliferation of company-owned ranches, and growing numbers of sheep in the area. Semlin followed other pursuits as well. His interest in Canadian history was well known and he served as president of the Yale and Lillooet Pioneer Society for many years. A good speaker, he was often asked to chair meetings or act as master of ceremonies, a role he continued to fill until well into his eighties.

Although known as a lifelong bachelor - even his death certificate lists him as single - Semlin raised a daughter, Mary, and left much of his estate, valued at just over $50,000 and consisting mainly of stock in the Dominion Ranch Limited, to his grandchildren. One account of his life, written after his death by a friend, states that he had adopted the girl. This appears to be contradicted by the census records of 1881, which list Mary{apos}s mother, Caroline Williams, a native woman, as living with Semlin and using his surname, but which do not describe them as married.

When Semlin died in 1927, the Vancouver Daily Province carried the news on its front page, noting that he was the last surviving member of the province{apos}s first legislature. Its editorial columns reflected on this fact, pointing out that Semlin{apos}s adult life had spanned the history of the province of British Columbia since its formal creation in 1871. In his own community the local newspaper observed that his grave was next to a cenotaph commemorating European pioneers, {d-0}of which the deceased was one of the most beloved.{d-1}

BCA, E/C/Se5, 1879-90, 1896-1904; E/D/Se5, 1901-14; GR-1952, file 1928/2; MS-0700. LAC, RG 14, Parl., E-1, vol.1989, 5th session, 8th Parl., Addresses: For copies of all correspondence between the premier, secretary of state, and the lieutenant-governor of British Columbia, having reference to the dismissal of premiers Turner and Semlin. Univ. of B.C. Library, Rare Books and Special Coll. (Vancouver), Charles Semlin fonds. British Columbian (New Westminster), 22 Sept. 1866. R. E. Gosnell, {d-0}Prime ministers of B.C., 11: Hon. C. A. Semlin,{d-1} Vancouver Daily Province, 23 May 1921: 18-19. Mining Review (Rossland, B.C.), 24 April 1897. Vancouver Daily Province, 3, 11, 13 Nov. 1927. J. D. Belshaw, {d-0}Provincial politics, 1871-1916,{d-1} in The Pacific province: a history of British Columbia, ed. H. J. M. Johnston (Vancouver and Toronto, 1996), 134-64. Brian Belton, Bittersweet oasis: a history of Ashcroft; the first 100 years (Ashcroft, B.C., 1986). John Calam, {d-0}An historical survey of boarding schools and public school dormitories in Canada{d-1} (ma thesis, Univ. of B.C., 1962). Canadian men and women of the time (Morgan; 1898 and 1912). Edith Dobie, {d-0}Some aspects of party history in British Columbia, 1871-1903,{d-1} Pacific Hist. Rev. (Berkeley and Los Angeles, Calif.), 1 (1932): 235-51. Electoral hist. of B.C. S. W. Jackman, Portraits of the premiers: an informal history of British Columbia (Sydney, B.C., 1969). F. H. Johnson, John Jessop: goldseeker and educator; founder of the British Columbia school system (Vancouver, 1971). J. B. Kerr, Biographical dictionary of well-known British Columbians, with a historical sketch (Vancouver, 1890). E. B. Mercer, {d-0}Political groups in British Columbia, 1883-1898{d-1} (ma thesis, Univ. of B.C., 1937). W. [R.] Norton, {d-0}Cache Creek: the provincial boarding school, 1874-1890,{d-1} in Reflections: Thompson valley histories, ed. W. [R.] Norton and Wilf Schmidt (Kamloops, B.C., 1994), 26-35. B. C. Patenaude, Golden nuggets: roadhouse portraits along the Cariboo{apos}s gold rush trail (Surrey, B.C., 1998); Trails to gold (Victoria, 1995). W. N. Sage, {d-0}Federal parties and provincial groups in British Columbia, 1871-1903,{d-1} British Columbia Hist. Quarterly (Victoria), 12 (1948): 151-69. J. T. Saywell, {d-0}The McInnes incident in British Columbia (1897-1900), together with a brief survey of the lieutenant-governor{apos}s constitutional position in the Dominion of Canada{d-1} (ba graduating essay, Univ. of B.C., 1950). E. O. S. Scholefield and F. W. Howay, British Columbia from the earliest times to the present (4v., Vancouver, 1914), 4. G. F. G. Stanley, {d-0}A {s-0}constitutional crisis{s-1-unknown} in British Columbia,{d-1} Canadian Journal of Economics and Political Science (Toronto), 21 (1955): 281-92.

In early 1874 Semmens, who wished to work with native people in the north, was sent to open a mission station at Nelson House. He relied heavily on Cree men such as Sandy Harte, Edward Paupanekis*, and William Isbister, an Orkney Cree, to interpret, teach school, and recruit a congregation. Semmens wrote warmly of the Nelson House community and believed his tenure had {d-0}resulted in the complete eradication of paganism and a purified society.{d-1} In 1876 he replaced Young among the Saulteaux at Berens River. From this base he visited outposts at Poplar River, Little Grand Rapids, Fisher River, and Pikangikum (Ont.). He led services, taught in the Berens River Methodist day school, and supported himself by fishing. While he appreciated his well-dressed, orderly congregation of 25, Semmens lamented that the {d-0}material . . . was so crude,{d-1} asserting that the Saulteaux were a hard people, full of the {d-0}viciousness of their heathen ways.{d-1}

In June 1878 the conference transferred Semmens from Berens River. He spent the next six years in mission work at white settlements in Manitoba and Ontario. In June 1884 poverty forced him to request a transfer to Norway House. The conference, unlike parish congregations, paid a regular, and thus secure, salary. While in Norway House he worked with his translator, John C. Sinclair, to transcribe several literary works, such as John Bunyan{apos}s The pilgrim{apos}s progress, and 200 hymns into Cree.

In 1888 Semmens{apos}s sons were of school age and he felt that they needed better educational opportunities. He asked to be released from Norway House, in part because he believed that {d-0}Indian life was not altogether wholesome. . . . There was nothing stimulating or uplifting in our surroundings.{d-1} In June 1888 he went to work in Carberry and later he served in Winnipeg. The Manitoba and North-West Conference elected him secretary in 1891 and president in 1892.

Semmens gave several lectures, wrote magazine articles, and published several small volumes and pamphlets in Cree syllabics, including The hand-book to Scripture truths in 1893. In 1884 he had published an account of his work, The field and the work. Writing of natives for the Methodist Magazine, he lamented that {d-0}darkness covers the land and gross darkness the minds of the people. The hereditary deadening influences . . . have not yet been eradicated.{d-1} Yet he was willing to concede that {d-0}while we have no desire to paint the Red Man white . . . many excellent traits of character are . . . associated with Indians.{d-1} In his ethnocentric and romantic views Semmens was a man of his times, and certainly he was regarded by his contemporaries as an expert in his knowledge and understanding of native people. Nevertheless his harsh judgements of Cree and Ojibwa culture stand out strongly within the missionary literature of the period.

John Semmens{apos}s personal papers, including a copy of his autobiographical Under the northern lights: notes on personal history ([Winnipeg?, 1915?]), can be found in UCC, Manitoba and Northwestern Ontario Conference Arch. (Winnipeg), PP34. Semmens published numerous magazine articles, including {d-0}The Indian missions of the Methodist Church,{d-1} Methodist Magazine (Toronto and Halifax), 41 (January-June 1895): 128-34; a number were incorporated into his The field and the work: sketches of missionary life in the far north (Toronto, 1884). In addition, he is the author of The hand-book to Scripture truths, or, The way of salvation: words of admonition, counsel, and comfort [syllabic transcription into Cree], trans. William Isbister, rev. J. [C.] McDougall (Toronto, 1893), and Trials and triumphs of early Methodism in the great north-west (2nd ed., Toronto, 1910).

SGANISM SM{apos}OOGIT (meaning {d-0}mountain chief{d-1}; also known as Sagawan, meaning {d-0}sharp tooth,{d-1} in reference to a mountain at the mouth of the Nass River, B.C., K{apos}ayax, and Mountain), Nisga{apos}a chief; b. c. 1830, probably in Git{apos}iks or Gunwok, B.C.; d. 1928, probably in Kincolith (Gingolx), B.C.

Ancestry and kinship define the social structure of the Nisga{apos}a and other nations of the northwest Pacific coast. Individuals inherit names that determine their place in the kinship networks and in society. In one of the Eagle clan lineages of the Nisga{apos}a Gitxatin tribe, generations of high-ranking men have held one or all of the names Sganism Sm{apos}oogit, Sagawan, and K{apos}ayax, these names changing with their age and rank in society. Since northwest coast peoples reincarnate within their own lineage, these men in reality inherit their own names. The biography of Sganism Sm{apos}oogit then is that of countless generations of individuals who held this name and led this lineage. The lineage was founded by a people who settled at the mouth of the Nass River after the last ice age and, over time, established the villages of Git{apos}iks and Gunwok. Later, others migrated to the region, bringing their distinct histories and forming a complex network of relationships with those already there. Still later, an Eagle clan group of Athapaskan origin which had first settled along Portland Canal and Observatory Inlet joined the group of Sganism Sm{apos}oogit. Finally, around A.D. 500, many groups of both the Eagle and the Wolf clans arrived from the north and one Eagle clan group among them also settled with Sganism Sm{apos}oogit{apos}s people.

In the late 18th century, when Euro-Canadian history first intersected with that of the Nisga{apos}a, the Wolf and Eagle clan descendants of these migrating peoples had long been established on the Nass River and active in the trade with interior peoples that had been a vital part of the northwest coast economy for several centuries. When the first European ship arrived in Nass Harbour to barter goods for furs, the Sganism Sm{apos}oogit of the period was well positioned to control access to the ships. He strengthened his ties with Legex [see Paul Legaic*], a Tsimshian chief who shared a common ancestry with the last Eagle group to join Sganism Sm{apos}oogit{apos}s people. Together they ensured that their sea otter furs would be the first to be traded. To acquire inland furs for exchange, Sganism Sm{apos}oogit drew on his shared ancestry with the Tsetsaut, the Athapaskan people to the north of Portland Canal.

The first Sganism Sm{apos}oogit identified in European history, born about 1830, grew up during a period of intense competition for the wealth to be gained in the declining fur trade economy. He faced attempts to wrest control of the mouth of the Nass from him and the other lineages there, and a decline in the quantity of furs, especially beaver, from Athapaskan sources. In the 1860s lineages of the Eagle, Wolf, and Killer Whale clans vied for the same control of trade along the Nass that the Tsimshian Eagle clan chief Legex exercised over the Skeena River region to the south. The competition for power took form in a race to raise the tallest totem pole on the Nass.

At a feast he hosted in Git{apos}iks around 1860 Sganism Sm{apos}oogit took his names, assumed the rank of chief, and raised the tallest pole on the Pacific coast, thus confirming his wealth and status. Alfred Mountain, in an interview in company with Albert Allen and William Moore, would later describe the feast, explaining that {d-0}My uncle made this totem pole at Git{apos}iks . . . as a monument to Gitxhon, Txalaxatk and K{apos}ayax [his predecessors] . . . there was a big quantity of copper shields and goods given away at the time the pole was made.

{d-0}It took three days to raise [the pole] and all the people of Laxskiik [Eagle] . . . origin then brought all their wealth such as guns, overcoats, blankets and other valuables [which] were thrown into the hole at the foot of the totem pole.

{d-0}[It was] to be erected in the spring just before the arrival of the eulachons when all of the people of the entire Nass were to be invited as well as those of Tongass and Kasaan and messengers were sent to all of these tribes, inviting them to come to the feast of Mountain.{d-1}

Although only in his thirties, Sganism Sm{apos}oogit had confirmed his lineage{apos}s position at the mouth of the Nass. The establishment of the Hudson{apos}s Bay Company at Fort Simpson (Lax Kw{apos}alaams) in 1831 had lessened the importance of the mouth of the Nass as a key trading location, but the eulachon fishery there still drew people from up and down the coast and still attracted fur traders. Sganism Sm{apos}oogit continued to trade with his Tsetsaut relations, especially Saanik, a leader at Smailx, at the head of Portland Canal, and he established himself at Knagooli, at the gateway to this lucrative enterprise.

When Robert Tomlinson, a Church of England missionary, moved to Kincolith in 1867, the Wolf clan chief Hlidux saw an opportunity to undercut Sganism Sm{apos}oogit{apos}s position. Protected by the missionary and by the navy ships at his disposal, he became Tomlinson{apos}s right-hand man at Kincolith, in the heart of Sganism Sm{apos}oogit{apos}s territory. He had had his eye on Sganism Sm{apos}oogit{apos}s alliance with the Tsetsaut for some time, to the point of killing their leader Saanik in an unsuccessful attempt to force them to trade with him. Hlidux encouraged Tomlinson to visit the Tsetsaut at the head of Portland Canal in the hopes that when William Duncan*, Tomlinson{apos}s mentor and counterpart at Metlakatla, visited Kincolith the Tsetsaut would bring their furs to his trading sloop.

As Txalaxatk (Robert Stewart) would explain in 1948, {d-0}[Tomlinson] soon learned of [the Tsetsaut] with whom Sagawan had been trading for so long. . . . So he went to this village . . . and saw that there was a great many people there, also they had no canoes and a great deal of furs. So he traded several canoes for some of their furs and then invited them to come to Kincolith, telling them to fetch their furs there, to Mr. Duncan{apos}s trading schooner. . . . Tomlinson was accompanied to Smailx by Hlid[u]x, who was his assistant. This man further urged [the new chief] Saanik to move to Kincolith. So bitter became the feelings [of Sagawan toward the new mission and Hlidux] that Sagawan together with his own group moved back to Git{apos}iks.{d-1}

In spite of Tomlinson{apos}s intrusion, Sganism Sm{apos}oogit remained a powerful chief. At the beginning of the 1880s, in protest against Tomlinson{apos}s actions, he and other chiefs joined the Methodist mission of the Reverend Alfred Eli Green in Laxgalts{apos}ap. In 1881 Sganism Sm{apos}oogit and some chiefs of this group led the first land claims delegation from the northwest coast, protesting in Victoria against the creation of reserves in British Columbia and the crown{apos}s assertion of landownership. In 1885 they published a letter in the Victoria Daily Colonist denouncing the inadequacies of the government{apos}s land allotments and incursions on their lands.

Because of his status and enormous knowledge of Nisga{apos}a culture, Sganism Sm{apos}oogit was sought out by anthropologists. American Franz Boas*, who visited the Nass region in 1894, and Canadian Marius Barbeau*, during his first visit in 1927, recorded many of the histories of his lineage. Barbeau asked to purchase his famous totem pole, then at risk of falling in the abandoned village of Git{apos}iks. Sganism Sm{apos}oogit{apos}s response, {d-0}Give me the tombstone of Governor [Sir James Douglas*]; I will give you the totem of my grand-uncles,{d-1} encapsulates his feelings about the request. He was almost 100 years old when he passed away the following year. He had lived through a period of enormous change. While others resorted to force and alliances with Euro-Canadian institutions, he had remained faithful to his heritage and the dignity of his position.

Little is known about the nephew to whom the title Sganism Sm{apos}oogit passed. As was the custom at the time, he took the English translation of his name as his surname when he was baptized, and became Alfred Mountain. In 1928 he and other nephews of the deceased chief sold the totem pole that had been raised by their uncle to the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto, where it has been preserved and displayed ever since.

At the beginning of the 21st century, Sganism Sm{apos}oogit (James Robertson) brought the traditions of his ancestors into the political and legal arena. Drawing on {d-0}ancestral native law in order to protect ancestral lands,{d-1} he contested elements of the Nisga{apos}a Final Agreement of 2000, a treaty which excluded lands he and his lineage shared with their Tsetsaut kin. These ancestral traditions, still alive, stretched back to the first Sganism Sm{apos}oogit at the end of the last ice age.

Canadian Museum of Civilization, Arch. (Hull, Que.), Marius Barbeau fonds, folder: I Gwenhoot (original ms), Narrative no.I 122, box 299, f.5; Mss ready for publication ser., folder: The Gwenhoot of Alaska, box 102, f.3, Marius Barbeau, {d-0}The Gwenhoot of Alaska in search of a bounteous land{d-1} (typescript, Ottawa, 1959); Northwest coast files ser., folder: Gitxatin, B-F-104, box B8, ff.12-13; box B9, f.1. Daily News (Prince Rupert, B.C.), 17, 28 June 2002. Marius Barbeau, Totem poles (2v., Ottawa, 1950-51), 1. Franz Boas, {d-0}Tsimshian mythology,{d-1} Smithsonian Institution, Bureau of American Ethnology, Annual report (Washington), 1909-10: 29-1037. Susan Marsden, Defending the mouth of the Skeena: perspectives on Tsimshian Tlingit relations (Prince Rupert, 2000). Susan Marsden and Robert Galois, {d-0}The Tsimshian, the Hudson{apos}s Bay Company, and the geopolitics of the northwest coast fur trade, 1787-1840,{d-1} Canadian Geographer (Toronto), 39 (1995): 169-83. Peter Murray, The devil and Mr. Duncan (Victoria, 1985). E. P. Patterson, Mission on the Nass: the evangelization of the Nishga (1860-1890) (Waterloo, Ont., 1982).

Born and raised in the industrial Black Country of Staffordshire, Noah Shakespeare, who claimed a distant relationship to William Shakespeare, began work in a local chain factory at age eight. He returned to school briefly and then worked in an iron-rolling mill until he decided to emigrate in the fall of 1862. Having chosen British Columbia because of glowing accounts of the Cariboo gold rush, he arrived in Victoria on 10 Jan. 1863. He found employment in Nanaimo as a labourer with the Vancouver Coal Mining and Land Company and by working double shifts he was able to pay passage for his wife and son within a year. The family moved to Victoria in the summer of 1864. There, Shakespeare learned photography from George Robinson Fardon and subsequently managed his photo gallery for a year. By August 1866 he was running another gallery, which he later took over from its absent owner, Charles Gentile. With the exception of a brief interval in 1870, when he worked for journalist and politician Amor De Cosmos* at the Victoria Daily Standard, he seems to have continued in photography. Towards the end of his life, he would imply that he had moved quickly into real estate and after 1880 he would identify himself as a manufacturer{apos}s agent, but contemporary sources indicate that from 1864 to the late 1870s he was principally a photographer. By 1877 Eliza Jane had opened a {d-0}fancy store.{d-1} An uncommon step for a married woman, her initiative suggests that Shakespeare{apos}s income may not have been adequate for the family{apos}s needs.

In January 1875 Shakespeare had entered politics when he was acclaimed a city councillor for James Bay Ward. The election of the mayor and many of the councillors had been attributed by some of their opponents to the Chinese vote. In view of his later anti-Chinese activities, Shakespeare{apos}s role in helping to defeat a motion in council to disenfranchise Chinese residents in civic elections is ironic. Later in 1875 he initiated a motion to close Chinese brothels in the city. This move may have stemmed from his strong Methodist beliefs or it may have been the beginning of his anti-Chinese platform. Shakespeare ran for council every year from 1876 to 1881, but was successful only in 1878, 1880, and 1881. In the provincial election of 1875 he had run as an independent in suburban Victoria District, but lost to anti-government candidates because of his association with De Cosmos, who had been premier from 1872 to 1874, and with the government of his successor, George Anthony Walkem*.

White working-class hostility towards Chinese immigrants in British Columbia grew in the late 1870s because of fear of their economic competition and professed concern about their morality. Shakespeare, who declared himself an advocate of workingmen, rose to prominence as a leader of the anti-Chinese movement. In August 1878 the Legislative Assembly passed the Chinese Tax Act to enumerate and tax all Chinese residents. Shakespeare was appointed the tax collector in Victoria, on a commission basis. When people refused to pay, he seized their property. The result was a general strike by Chinese workers and shopkeepers in Victoria on 17 Sept. 1878. When Shakespeare{apos}s assistant was accused by Tai Sing of illegally seizing and selling his property, justice John Hamilton Gray* of the Supreme Court of British Columbia ruled that the act was ultra vires the provincial assembly. The following year the federal government disallowed the act, eliminating any chance of future income from this source.

In October 1878 Shakespeare had assumed leadership of the Workingmen{apos}s Protective Association. Formed in Victoria a month earlier, the WPA was an early labour union, with the elimination of Chinese competition its primary goal. Shakespeare expanded the organization to the mainland and used it as a springboard for his political career. Early in 1879 he and the WPA sent a petition with almost 1,500 signatures to parliament, calling for taxation of resident Chinese and the exclusion of new immigrants. In April 1879 he stepped down as president of the declining WPA, but he helped found the Anti-Chinese Association the same year. Its goals were identical and on its behalf he petitioned federal and provincial governments for exclusionary legislation and tried to get Chinese labour barred from work on the proposed transcontinental railway. In spite of varying public support, he persevered.

Shakespeare{apos}s rising profile led to his election as mayor of Victoria in January 1882. He acquitted himself well, the high point of his term being the state visit of the governor general, Lord Lorne [Campbell*], later that year. Playing on the growing Sinophobia caused by the influx of Chinese work crews for the Canadian Pacific Railway, Shakespeare, a Conservative, successfully contested one of the two seats for Victoria in the federal election of June 1882. He continued as mayor until the end of his term and when the House of Commons was reconvened in February 1883 he took his seat. The following year he reached his political zenith when he tabled a motion in the commons for a law to prohibit Chinese immigration. It was made necessary, he claimed, by their unfair economic competition and their immorality. His motion was amended and became law in 1885 as the Chinese Immigration Act, introducing the infamous $50 head tax on each Chinese arrival and limiting the number of immigrants per vessel. It did not provide outright exclusion, but it was the culmination of Shakespeare{apos}s anti-Chinese activity. Later that year in Victoria he established the Labor Bureau, a union of white labourers to fight Chinese competition. In the 1887 election Shakespeare retained his federal seat, but he resigned it to accept an appointment on 1 Jan. 1888 as postmaster of Victoria, a reward for his loyalty to Conservative prime minister Sir John A. Macdonald*. He held the position until his retirement on 31 March 1914, supervising the rapid growth of postal facilities as the city boomed.

From the 1860s Shakespeare had been a leader of the temperance movements in Victoria and British Columbia. In 1877 and 1878 he was elected grand chief templar of the Independent Order of Good Templars for British Columbia and the Pacific northwest states. He maintained a lifelong involvement in temperance and in other issues consistent with his Methodist beliefs and the improvement of workingmen. He served as president of the Victoria Mechanics{s-1-unknown} Institute in 1882, the British Columbia Agricultural Association in 1885, and the Young Men{apos}s Christian Association in Victoria in 1886-87, and as a member of the management committee of the British Columbia Protestant Orphans{s-1-unknown} Home in Victoria at least in 1887 and 1889.

An atypical {d-0}self-made man,{d-1} Shakespeare had become a member of the social elite not through the conventional route of success in business or industry, but by means of a political career based on his being, in the words of historian Patricia E. Roy, British Columbia{apos}s {d-0}first professional anti-Chinese agitator.{d-1} It seems that once he had achieved prosperity and status as postmaster, he abandoned this cause and turned his attention to social issues more consistent with his Methodist beliefs. His period of intense anti-Chinese activism may have been a misguided effort to improve the lot of the white working class or a calculated device to better his own economic and social position. Regardless, he had played a considerable role in defining race and class relations in British Columbia.

BCA, GR-1052, file 10973; GR-1304, file 182/1921; MS-0254; VF130, frames 0641-65. City of Victoria Arch., CRS1 (council minutes), 25 Aug. 1862-16 April 1884. Daily Colonist (Victoria), 1863-1921. Victoria Daily Times, 1887-1921, esp. 10 March 1917. H. T. Allen, Forty years{s-1-unknown} journey: the temperance movement in British Columbia to 1900 (Victoria, 1981). B.C., Legislative Assembly, Sessional papers, 1880: 406. British Columbia Gazette (Victoria), 1878-79. The British Columbia orphans{s-1-unknown} friend: historical number, ed. Alexander MacDonald (Victoria, 1914). Can., House of Commons, Debates, 1879, 1884-85. Cyclopædia of Canadian biog. (Rose and Charlesworth), vol.2. Directories, B.C., 1882-85, 1887, 1889; Victoria, 1868-69, 1874. 1881 Canadian census: Vancouver Island, comp. Peter Baskerville et al. (Victoria, 1990). 1891 Canadian census, Victoria, British Columbia, comp. Eric Sager et al. (Victoria, 1991). Valerie Green, No ordinary people: Victoria{apos}s mayors since 1862 (Victoria, 1992). J. B. Kerr, Biographical dictionary of well-known British Columbians, with a historical sketch (Vancouver, 1890). {d-0}Leading laymen, 4: Mr. N. Shakespeare, Victoria,{d-1} Western Methodist Recorder (Victoria), 1 (1899-1900), no.4: 10. David Mattison, {d-0}The Victoria Theatre Photographic Gallery (and the gallery next door),{d-1} British Columbia Hist. News (Victoria), 14 (1980-81), no.2: 1-14. P. E. Roy, A white man{apos}s province: British Columbia politicians and Chinese and Japanese immigrants, 1858-1914 (Vancouver, 1989). W. P. Ward, White Canada forever: popular attitudes and public policy toward Orientals in British Columbia (2nd ed., Montreal and Kingston, Ont., 1990). Western Methodist Recorder, 20 (1920-21), no.11: 5. Workingmen{apos}s Protective Assoc., Constitution, by-laws and rules of order . . . ([Victoria?], 1878).

At age 14 Thomas Sharpe left school to be apprenticed as a mason. On completing his engagement, he became a clerk with the Provincial Bank of Ireland. After a year and a half there, he immigrated to Canada in 1885 and found journeyman{apos}s work in Toronto at his original trade. Two years later he started his own company, taking contracts for paving and sidewalks. Early in 1892 he went out of business. Soon afterwards he arrived in Winnipeg, where he worked for a short time as a labourer and then as a bricklayer. He supported his trade{apos}s union and in 1892 served on the committee that affiliated it with the American Federation of Labor as a local of the Bricklayers, Masons, and Plasterers{s-1-unknown} International Union of North America. In 1896 he went once again into contracting. Initially his business depended on contracts for laying the city{apos}s first cement sidewalks, but subsequently it expanded into more general contracting and heavy masonry work. By 1901 R. G. Dun and Company judged him a good credit risk with $10,000-20,000 in business assets. In 1905 he accepted his foreman, W. W. College, as a partner and renamed the business Sharpe and College. The firm grew during Winnipeg{apos}s boom. In 1911 its assets were estimated at $125,000-200,000 and it received a high credit rating.

The reorganization of Sharpe{apos}s company had been necessitated as much by his involvement in municipal politics - two two-year terms as alderman from 1900 to 1903 and three one-year terms as mayor from 1904 to 1906 - as by the increase in his business. He had entered politics with the backing of Winnipeg{apos}s wealthiest merchant, James Henry Ashdown, who nominated him for alderman. Noted for {d-0}his candour and free style{d-1} of speech, he frequently took controversial positions.

On the one hand, Sharpe agreed that Winnipeg should undertake its own construction when it could realize savings over tendered work. He urged municipal ownership of utilities and would claim responsibility for the establishment of the city{apos}s quarry and asphalt plant. He recognized Winnipeg{apos}s minimum wage by-law and he agreed that the city should do business only with those who employed unionized labour. On the other hand, the Voice, Winnipeg{apos}s labour paper, charged that he simply accepted practices he knew could not be changed. His real sympathies, the Voice believed, were revealed in his defence of property qualifications for the municipal franchise.

Sharpe{apos}s response to the public protest over prostitution that erupted during his first campaign for the mayoralty demonstrated his selective engagement in some issues. In November 1903 the Winnipeg Ministerial Association, led by Frederic Beal Du Val, complained that the Winnipeg Police Commission knowingly permitted brothels to operate in the city{apos}s west end. Sharpe admitted that, apart from persuading council to take control of the commission when the issue had been first raised by the association two years earlier, he had {d-0}paid little attention{d-1} to the matter. After his election, he quickly pressed the police to close the brothels in the west end. Despite subsequent charges that the problem continued unabated elsewhere, he defended his record of prosecuting vice.

Similarly, Sharpe became defensive in 1904 when the city{apos}s Department of Health reported an increase in typhoid which it attributed to inadequate sewers and waste collection. Sharpe, who had chaired the Board of Works, had campaigned on his record of expanding water and sewer services, so he took the report as a personal attack. He commissioned assessments from two outside experts and conducted his own survey of sanitation systems in large Canadian and American cities. Although the Department of Health{apos}s evaluation was confirmed, he could claim leadership on the issue. In 1905 the city{apos}s charter was amended to enable it to compel sewer and water connections. Thereafter, with an enlarged health department, increased appropriations for waste removal, and more rigorous enforcement of by-laws, the incidence of typhoid was substantially reduced. Sharpe drew the line at seeking a new source for city water, however, arguing that matters affecting the city{apos}s economic development were more important. In 1906 he vigorously and successfully urged voters to approve the necessary appropriation of funds for the city to develop hydroelectric power for manufacturing [see Ashdown].

Sharpe was persuaded that municipal governments needed to achieve greater efficiency. Through his service on the executive of the Union of Canadian Municipalities from 1904 to 1906, his attendance at the conference of the National Municipal League of the United States in 1905, and his visits to major North American cities, he was aware of progressive trends elsewhere. In 1905, with the support of the Winnipeg Board of Trade, he proposed that the city establish a board of control, composed of four full-time members who could devote their attentions {d-0}in a business-like manner{d-1} to municipal affairs. A by-law to this effect passed in 1906.

Sharpe{apos}s commitment to corporate efficiency ultimately led to more overt support for business and property interests. When its employees went on strike in late March 1906, the Winnipeg Electric Railway Company hired strike-breakers protected by private detectives. Crowds of sympathizers blocked the streets and threw stones at the streetcars. The company urged Sharpe to call out the militia and on the second day of the strike he agreed. He authorized troops with bayonets and a machine-gun to clear Main Street and was later reported to have called on them to fire above the crowd, only to have the cooler-headed militia commander ignore his order. {d-0}Gatling Gun Sharpe,{d-1} as the Voice labelled him, had clearly aligned municipal government with the interests of capital in a way that anticipated the events of the Winnipeg General Strike of 1919 [see Mike Sokolowiski*].

Thomas Sharpe had entered municipal politics at a critical juncture in Winnipeg{apos}s history. Population growth had overburdened existing services and taxed the capacity of political institutions to respond to social problems. Supported from the beginning by Winnipeg{apos}s business elite, he proposed reforms that adopted the evolving forms of business organization. His populist claims seemed increasingly to have a hollow ring as the city sided in public disputes with capital against labour.

The son of a builder-architect and future mayor of Toronto, Charles Sheard was raised in the rapidly expanding city of the 1850s and 1860s. After attending Upper Canada College, he enrolled in Trinity Medical School, from which he graduated with an mb in 1878. He then went to Britain and Europe for further training; when he returned to Toronto he was a member of the Royal College of Surgeons of England. Recognized as a leading exponent of scientific medicine and research, he lectured on histology at Trinity from 1880 until its amalgamation in 1903 with the faculty of medicine at the University of Toronto, where he had become a professor of physiology in 1883 and of clinical medicine in 1891. He had received his md, cm (master of surgery) from Trinity College in 1882. From 1884 to 1905 he was on staff at the Toronto General Hospital; there his innovations included sponsoring the use of the metrotome, a cutting instrument for uterine surgery. As professor of preventive medicine at the university from 1903 to about 1910, he promoted {d-0}the science of Sanitation{d-1} as a valid medical specialty.

Sheard also established a successful private practice and became involved in medical politics. He was treasurer (1882-83), vice-president (1889), and president (1892) of the Canadian Medical Association and vice-president (1890) of the Ontario Medical Association. In 1887 Sheard and Dr John Lorenzo Davison had taken over publication of the Canada Lancet, the country{apos}s premier medical journal; Sheard was a co-proprietor until 1893. He thus contributed to the modernization of Canadian medical practice not only through teaching, but also through participation in professional organizations and medical publishing.

Between 1893 and 1910 Sheard had the opportunity to demonstrate his scientific credentials and business skills as Toronto{apos}s medical health officer. In 1890, after the resignation of the city{apos}s first permanent officer, William Canniff*, he had been part of the committee formed to select Canniff{apos}s successor. Its choice, Dr Norman Allen, a young Trinity graduate, lacked the business acumen required for the position and he was dismissed in February 1893. On 17 March Sheard was appointed on a full-time basis to give him time to reorganize the department before he resumed teaching.

During his years in office Sheard introduced Torontonians to the bacteriological phase of the international public health movement. {d-0}A scientist to his finger tips,{d-1} in the estimate of the Globe, he improved the city{apos}s procedures for handling communicable disease, began the bacterial testing of milk and water supplies, and agitated successfully for improved water and sewage systems. After the department of works was added to his jurisdiction in 1905, he moved to eliminate patronage there; his swift dismissals of incompetent employees earned him accolades from the Evening Telegram.

Despite his concern for preventive medicine, Sheard, a social conservative, did not always support demands by reformers for increased government intervention. In 1907, for instance, he opposed calls for medical inspections in schools as a {d-0}fad{d-1} promoted mainly by women and intended to provide jobs for favoured doctors. Yet the same year he pressed the city{apos}s Board of Health to hire, for the first time, a public health nurse to specialize in tuberculin testing and care. In March 1910, fed up with {d-0}the many disappointed cliques and influences existent,{d-1} he resigned as medical health officer. He was persuaded to stay on, however, to deal with an outbreak of typhoid (by chlorinating Toronto{apos}s drinking water) and to conclude an inquiry into the Isolation Hospital. He stepped down for good later that year.

Throughout his career Sheard combined scientific objectivity with strongly conservative politics. During World War I he returned to public life. Running as a Unionist candidate in Toronto South in the federal election of 1917, he easily defeated labour candidate David Arthur Carey. In the House of Commons in 1919 he participated in the debate over the bill creating the Department of Health, described by its sponsor, Newton Wesley Rowell*, as {d-0}a new departure{d-1} in the emphasis it placed {d-0}upon the conservation of the health of the people and upon their social welfare.{d-1} Sheard supported the bill in principle and contributed his professional knowledge, in proposed amendments, to defining the role of the new department. Opposed to unwarranted federal intervention, he argued that it must not infringe on provincial or municipal jurisdictions and must be headed by an effective medical scientist and backed by a bureau of scientific research. In other debates he expressed concern over employment for returned soldiers, applauded the creation of the Civil Service Commission (though he questioned its criteria for appointment), supported demands for funds to dredge Toronto harbour, and advocated stronger legislation on patent and proprietary medicines.

In 1921 Sheard successfully ran for re-election, under the Conservative banner, but he had a much tougher campaign against his well-known Liberal-labour challenger, James Murdock*. Chosen to reply to the Liberals{s-1-unknown} throne speech of 1922, he did not run in 1925. He died four years later.

Charles Sheard{apos}s career represented the transition from doctors as {d-0}professional gentlemen{d-1} to research scientists. His teaching, in particular, was important for diffusing European knowledge among Canadian practitioners. Likewise, his public service demonstrated the slow evolution from committed amateurs to academically trained medical health officers.

Charles Sheard{apos}s publications include his presidential address to the Canadian Medical Association, in the Montreal Medical Journal, 22 (1893): 293-96; {d-0}President{apos}s annual address,{d-1} Assoc. of Executive Health Officers of Ontario, Report of the annual meeting (Toronto), 1897: 31-39; {d-0}How to prevent outbreaks of infectious diseases among school children and the best methods to adopt tending to limit and suppress these diseases,{d-1} Canadian Journal of Medicine and Surgery (Toronto), 15 (January-June 1904): 153-57; {d-0}City of Toronto disposal of sewage and water filtration,{d-1} Empire Club of Canada, Addresses (Toronto), 5 (1907-8): 66-80; and {d-0}Disposal of household waste,{d-1} Canadian Therapeutist and Sanitary Engineer (Toronto), 1 (1910): 294-301 (there is a portrait of Sheard opp. p.287). Sheard{apos}s reports to Toronto{apos}s Board of Health appear in Toronto, City Council, Minutes of proc., 1893-94, 1896-99, 1904, 1907; edited versions of two of the reports were published in Ont., Legislature, Sessional papers, reports of the Provincial Board of Health of Ontario, 1895: 135-37 and 1896: 156-57.

AO, RG 22-305, no.61309; RG 80-5-0-131, no.14543. City of Toronto Arch., SC 215 (Paul Bator coll.), Charles Sheard, letter to mayor of Toronto and Board of Control, 22 Sept. 1910. University Health Network Arch. (Toronto), Toronto General Hospital fonds, Board of trustees, minutes of meetings, vols.3 (1880-93)-4 (1894-1904). Globe, 17, 20 Nov., 7, 17 Dec. 1917; 11, 22, 24 Oct., 23, 28 Nov., 1, 3, 7 Dec. 1921; 8, 11 Feb. 1929. Toronto Daily Mail, 1891, 1893. Toronto Daily Star, 24 Oct., 1-2 Dec. 1921; 8 Feb. 1929. P. A. Bator with A. J. Rhodes, Within reach of everyone: a history of the University of Toronto School of Hygiene and the Connaught Laboratories (2v., Ottawa, 1990-95). Can., House of Commons, Debates, 1918-24. Canadian men and women of the time (Morgan; 1912). Heather MacDougall, Activists and advocates: Toronto{apos}s health department, 1883-1983 (Toronto, 1990). Wendy Mitchinson, The nature of their bodies: women and their doctors in Victorian Canada (Toronto, 1991). Trinity Medical College, Annual announcement (Toronto), 1880/81, 1890/91.

As the daughter of the rector of St John the Evangelist, Port Hope, Emily Shortt was born into a life of service to church and community. After her early schooling in Port Hope, she attended Mrs Lucy Simpson{apos}s seminary for young ladies in Montreal. In 1871 she married Willoughby Cummings, a Toronto barrister; as a prominent young matron, she would become a leader in Toronto{apos}s emerging women{apos}s club movement.

Missionary societies were among the most powerful of the first Canadian women{apos}s clubs, and Emily Cummings was in the forefront of Anglican missionary outreach as a founding member in 1886 of the Toronto diocesan branch of the Woman{apos}s Auxiliary to the Missionary Society of the Church of England in Canada [see Roberta Elizabeth Odell]. She would hold office in this organization, as recording secretary, corresponding secretary, or vice-president, until her death. In 1890, on behalf of mission work, she made a tour of Indian reservations in British Columbia, Manitoba, and the North-West Territories, which she publicized in a series of articles entitled {d-0}Our Indian wards{d-1} for the Toronto Empire in July and August that year and {d-0}A trip through our mission fields{d-1} for the Canadian Church Magazine and Mission News (Hamilton, Ont.) from November 1890 to June 1891.

Representing Canadian clubwomen, Cummings had gone to Washington in 1888 for the founding meeting of the International Council of Women. Although Cummings was urged to launch a women{apos}s council in Canada, the time was not auspicious. In October 1893, however, she assisted the dynamic Lady Aberdeen [Marjoribanks*], wife of Lord Aberdeen [Hamilton-Gordon*], Canada{apos}s governor general, in founding the National Council of Women of Canada. Lady Aberdeen had just been elected president of the International Council when it met at the Columbian exposition in Chicago that summer. Cummings was present as special correspondent for the Toronto Globe and the Manitoba Morning Free Press (Winnipeg). The Chicago fair brought together the three elements, journalism, the National Council, and Lady Aberdeen, that would define the next chapters of Cummings{apos}s life.

Her husband{apos}s death on 14 Sept. 1892 had jolted Emily out of the conventional life of wife, mother, and volunteer activist; she now needed to earn a living. Her impeccable social connections and her journalistic experience ideally situated her to become the Globe{apos}s first society reporter, a position she assumed in 1893 during the editorship of John Stephen Willison. As long-time editor Melvin Ormond Hammond would later observe, at first there were {d-0}wry faces against such {s-0}horrid and vulgar stuff,{s-1-unknown}{d-1} but Cummings managed the role with sufficient professionalism to establish herself in the editorial department of the Globe, the first woman to win such recognition on a Canadian daily. Discretion was crucial; in order to separate her private from her public identity, Cummings adopted the pseudonym Sama, the Japanese word for lady, and might even note in Sama{apos}s accounts of society functions that Mrs Willoughby Cummings was among the guests. She occasionally took the opportunity to tilt at the dictates of style, commenting in 1893 that tight lacing for women was worse than footbinding. {d-0}One can live without walking,{d-1} she noted, {d-0}but it is still necessary and fashionable to breathe.{d-1} She would remain with the Globe until 1903.

Her career required frequent visits to Ottawa to cover the formal social events of the capital. As a house guest of Lord and Lady Aberdeen and working for a Liberal newspaper, Cummings was the ideal go-between when Lady Aberdeen connived in 1896 to meddle surreptitiously in Canadian politics by encouraging Wilfrid Laurier*{apos}s ambition to become prime minister. Lady Aberdeen rejoiced in Cummings{apos}s suitability for the role: {d-0}As she is always in communication with me about the Council, her comings & goings will not be considered unnatural & it is well at such a juncture to have some means of communication with the leader of the Opposition.{d-1}

In common with other women journalists in the heyday of women{apos}s clubs, Cummings was both observer and activist. She continued her central role in the National Council of Women, where she served almost continuously as corresponding or recording secretary from 1894 to 1917 and as vice-president from 1910 to 1930. She was active as well in the Toronto Local Council. In 1896 she represented Lady Aberdeen at the International Congress of Women in Boston. When in 1909 Toronto was the setting for the international meeting, Cummings was both organizer and publicist, using her press connections to ensure public attention.

Emily Cummings{apos}s career in journalism expanded in 1900 when she became editor of {d-0}Woman{apos}s Sphere{d-1} in the Canadian Magazine (Toronto). In the magazine format she was able to branch out into more general social commentary, particularly focusing on questions relating to the education of women. Although she was a member of the British Society of Women Journalists, she was not among the pioneers, such as Katherine Angelina Hughes and Catherine Coleman [Ferguson*], who founded the Canadian Women{apos}s Press Club in 1904 and she did not join until after World War I. Philanthropic rather than professional clubs continued to consume her. She was an original member of the ladies{s-1-unknown} committee of the Toronto Industrial Exhibition (Canadian National Exhibition) when it began in 1901 and was particularly proud of the Babies{s-1-unknown} Rest which she established in 1919 to allow mothers to tour the exhibits while their infants were watched by trained nurses. Cummings was also on the executives of the Women{apos}s Canadian Historical Society of Toronto [see Sara Mickle], the ladies{s-1-unknown} committee of the Toronto Technical School, and the Victorian Order of Nurses.

Cummings{apos}s labour on behalf of women and social reform was accorded national recognition in 1910. On 1 April the dominion government made her field secretary in the women{apos}s department of the old age annuities branch of the Department of Trade and Commerce, at a salary of $1,200. That same year she became the first Canadian woman to receive an honorary degree when King{apos}s College in Windsor, N.S., made her a dcl.

When the Great War broke out Cummings, then in her sixties, became chairwoman of the Toronto Women{apos}s Patriotic League. For a time she represented the National Council of Women on the National Service Committee, a clearing house for patriotic work, and she was president of the Toronto branch of the Woman{apos}s Emergency Corps of Military District No.2, whose aim was to aid recruiting by registering women capable of doing the work of men eligible for active service. In 1918 she was nominated by the dominion government to represent the interests of Canadian women at the Ottawa war conference.

She never abandoned her early involvement with missionary work: she was frequently a delegate to international pan-Anglican conferences; she edited the official newsletter of the Woman{apos}s Auxiliary from 1903 until her death, expanding and modernizing it, and for a time she was associate editor of the Mission World (Toronto); and around 1919 she became organizing secretary of the women{apos}s department of the Anglican {d-0}Forward Movement.{d-1} In the last years of her life Cummings wrote the history of the Woman{apos}s Auxiliary: Our story.

An exemplary clergyman{apos}s daughter to the last, Emily Cummings elevated conventional feminine duties into new public roles in journalism, social reform, and government service. She died in Toronto on 1 Nov. 1930.

In addition to her articles in newspapers and magazines, Emily Shortt Cummings wrote Our story: some pages from the history of the Woman{apos}s Auxiliary to the Missionary Society of the Church of England in Canada, 1885 to 1929 (Toronto, [1929?]).

AO, F 1075-3, [M. O. Hammond], {d-0}Ninety years of the Globe{d-1} (typescript, [1934]), 196; F 1104, Mrs Willoughby Cummings to Mary Bouchier Sanford, 17 Nov. 1897; RG 80-5-0-14: 222. Globe, 22 April 1893. Barbara Freeman, {d-0}Laced in and let down: women{apos}s fashion features in the Canadian dailies of the 1890s{d-1} (paper presented at the annual CHA meeting, Victoria, 1990). Sandra Gwyn, The private capital: ambition and love in the age of Macdonald and Laurier (Toronto, 1984). Marjory Lang, Women who made the news: female journalists in Canada, 1880-1945 (Montreal and Kingston, Ont., 1999). [I. M. Marjoribanks Hamilton-Gordon, Marchioness of] Aberdeen [and Temair], The Canadian journal of Lady Aberdeen, 1893-1898, ed. J. T. Saywell (Toronto, 1960). National Council of Women of Canada, Year book (Ottawa; Toronto), 1894-1930. Standard dict. of Canadian biog. (Roberts and Tunnell). V. J. Strong-Boag, The parliament of women: the National Council of Women of Canada, 1893-1929 (Ottawa, 1976). These fifty years, 1886-1936: Woman{apos}s Auxiliary to the Missionary Society of the Church of England in Canada, and to diocesan missions ([Toronto, 1936?]).

Arthur Lewis Sifton{apos}s father was the son of Anglo-Irish Protestant immigrants to Canada; his mother was born in Ireland and immigrated with her parents. John Wright Sifton was by turn a farmer, a land speculator, an oilman, and a railway contractor. This peripatetic career meant that Arthur was educated in a variety of schools across southern Ontario, including a boys{s-1-unknown} school at Dundas and the high school in London. The family moved to Manitoba in 1875 to permit J. W. Sifton to take up contracts for telegraph and railway construction in the expanding west. Arthur completed high school in Winnipeg before he and his younger brother, Clifford, were sent in 1876 to Victoria College, a Methodist institution in Cobourg, Ont. Though evidently capable of intellectual brilliance, Arthur was by no means a disciplined student. Rather like his father, he was restless and impulsive, happily skipping classes while confident of his own ability to pass, choosing to broaden his mind in other ways. His fellow students awarded him a prize for being {d-0}intellectually, morally, physically and erratically preeminent in virtue and otherwise, especially otherwise.{d-1} Following his graduation with a ba in 1880, Arthur began to article in the Winnipeg law office of Albert Monkman, a career path from which he was soon temporarily diverted.

In 1881 J. W. Sifton moved to Brandon, hoping to take advantage of the boom in real estate caused by the construction of the Canadian Pacific Railway in western Manitoba. Arthur quickly abandoned his law books and joined his father in the scramble for profits. Though officially he presided over a Brandon branch of Monkman{apos}s law firm, he had not qualified for independent practice. In addition to speculating in real estate, he was active in the temperance movement and in organizing a loan company. He also was elected as an alderman to Brandon{apos}s first city council, on which he served two terms, in 1882 and 1883. On 20 Sept. 1882 he married Mary H. Deering; their first child, Nellie Louise, would be born the following August. Perhaps the prospect of becoming a father turned his attention to the need to complete his legal training: in the spring of 1883 he passed his barrister{apos}s examinations, though not those for attorney, and was called to the Manitoba bar; in June he became a full-fledged partner in his brother{apos}s law firm, now Sifton and Sifton. In addition to his service in civic politics, Arthur was elected to the school board, and he was active in the Reform Association, the Brandon Agricultural Society, and the Literary Society of the local Methodist church. Briefly in 1884 he even considered running for mayor, but he concluded that he had insufficient support.

Yet, despite all this success and apparent prospects for the future, in 1885 he removed with his family to Prince Albert (Sask.), dissolving the partnership of Sifton and Sifton. He was made a notary public that year and was enrolled as an advocate in 1886. Why he made the move is unclear. Prince Albert once had had high hopes of being on the main line of the transcontinental railway, but it was facing a more constrained future by 1885, since the CPR was being built far to the south. While making useful political connections and writing for the local newspaper, Sifton found time to earn his ma from Victoria College and his llb from the University of Toronto, both in 1888. He moved to Calgary, apparently because of his wife{apos}s health, the following year. There he established a practice on Stephen Avenue, was appointed qc in 1892, and served at least some time in the office of the city solicitor. He later joined the firm of Sifton, Short, and Stuart and acted as crown prosecutor. In February 1898 his second child, Lewis Raymond St Clair, was born.

During this time his brother had remained in Brandon, building his law practice, speculating successfully in western Manitoba lands, and becoming attorney general of Manitoba in 1891 and minister of the interior in the federal government of Wilfrid Laurier* in November 1896. As interior minister, Clifford was responsible in the cabinet for the whole of western Canada, and in this capacity he relied heavily upon Arthur for advice about the welfare of the Liberal party in the Calgary region and for other services, such as settling a difficult election protest in Prince Albert. Arthur, meanwhile, plied Clifford with suggestions about patronage issues in Calgary and Banff. He did not hesitate to put himself forward. As early as August 1896 he had suggested that the North-West Territories needed a chief justice for its Supreme Court and that a promotion from the existing bench would open up a vacancy for which {d-0}there is no one else in the Territories eligible except myself.{d-1} No court appointment could be made immediately, but Clifford managed from time to time to throw an occasional plum to Arthur, such as a retainer for a coroner{apos}s inquest in 1897. Finally, Arthur decided once more to take the plunge into politics, challenging the popular and long-time member for Banff, Dr Robert George Brett, a Conservative, in the territorial elections of 1898. At first Sifton thought he had won by a majority of 36, but after a series of court challenges to the validity of some of the votes, Brett was declared the victor in 1899 by a margin of two. Sifton in turn successfully protested Brett{apos}s election, on the basis of corrupt practices, and he won the ensuing by-election in June 1899. Named president of the Alberta Liberal Association that year, he actively supported the federal Liberals in the dominion election of 1900. The pay for being an mla was small, however, and Arthur told his brother that the law business, both civil and criminal, was very slow. Clearly he wanted something more remunerative.

At this point, yet another career beckoned. As early as September 1901 his brother had proposed the chief justiceship of the territories to him. Arthur had thought it best not to accept, having just taken up his ministerial duties, but made it clear that he would like the post in the long run. He obtained it in January 1903, when the court{apos}s first chief justice, Thomas Horace McGuire, retired. Sworn in on the 13th, Sifton occupied the position until 16 Sept. 1907, when he became chief justice of the Supreme Court of the new province of Alberta. As had been the case when he joined the territorial government, his appointment was denounced by the Conservative press as the most crass form of nepotism. The malign hand of Clifford Sifton, rather than merit, was seen to be behind it. Yet Arthur was indeed very able, and took on an exceptionally heavy workload; by July 1903 he was able to tell Clifford, {d-0}I like the work better than I anticipated and most people appear to be satisfied now.{d-1} In recognition of his service the University of Alberta would confer a dcl on him on 13 Oct. 1908.

Although he remained centred in Calgary, Sifton regularly heard cases in the southern territories from Maple Creek (Sask.) west to Cardston and Pincher Creek (Alta), and on occasion went north to Red Deer and Edmonton. Sifton appears to have had a severely practical approach to the law, and there is no indication in studies of his judicial career that he established important new points of law or precedents. He was a difficult personality for lawyers to read: he sat impassively smoking his trademark cigar; some thought him cynical in expression, others sphinx-like. He recorded by hand in notebooks the essence of each case that he heard, along with his decision. He was famed for his {d-0}rapid-fire methods{d-1} on the bench, frequently offering instant judgements in cases of considerable complexity which might have taken many days to argue. Most common among the cases which he heard in the early years were charges of horse and cattle rustling and other forms of theft, burglary, false pretences, forgery, disputes over money owed, and various other issues concerning property. Typically, cattle rustlers were sentenced to three years{s-1-unknown} hard labour. Occasional cases of incest, assault, or attempted murder arose, but they were a small fraction of the total. Efficient Sifton may have been. Yet, notes one authority, when his decisions were appealed, {d-0}his brethren had difficulty in ruling on them because he rarely provided reasons for his judgments.{d-1}

Lieutenant Governor George Hedley Vicars Bulyea, a Liberal partisan who worked closely with Prime Minister Sir Wilfrid Laurier on the matter, realized in February that the divided Liberals would demand {d-0}a scapegoat{d-1} and that since there was no obvious successor to Rutherford of any strength, salvaging the Liberal government in the province likely would mean seeking a replacement outside the existing legislature. {d-0}Possibly Chief Justice only permanent solution,{d-1} he telegraphed to Laurier in mid March. By 17 May Sifton had agreed; when the house met on the 26th, Bulyea announced Rutherford{apos}s resignation, Sifton{apos}s appointment as premier, and - to the consternation of the opposition - the prorogation of the legislature, to give Sifton time to select a new cabinet and consolidate his position. C. W. Cross told Laurier, {d-0}The result of the acceptance of the Premiership by the Chief Justice is that the family quarrel in the Liberal party here is at an end.{d-1} At the end of June Sifton and his cabinet were sustained in a series of by-elections, Sifton sitting for the constituency of Vermilion. In addition to his posts as premier and president of the Executive Council, he was provincial treasurer and minister of public works from 1 June 1910 to 4 May 1913 and minister of railways and telephones from 20 Dec. 1911 until his resignation in 1917.

The new premier needed to establish his credentials, first with the divided and somewhat sceptical mlas, and secondly with the populace at large. He was neither dynamic nor robust: he had had some sort of heart affliction for most of his life, which left him few reserves of energy. This fact was not widely understood, with the result that he often was perceived as lazy. He also spoke far less than most prominent politicians, and was distinctly reserved in public. One historian has described his manner as {d-0}glacial and arbitrary.{d-1} That he had a clear, incisive mind few doubted. With respect to his reputation amongst the public, he was helped by circumstance: Laurier in 1910 made one of his few appearances in the west, and his first extensive sounding of western public opinion in more than 15 years. He invited Sifton to join him for the Alberta leg of his tour; appearing on the platform with the popular prime minister and some of his leading cabinet ministers not only was a statement of solidarity and support from the foremost Liberals in the country, but brought the premier to the attention of his people as no other event could have done. This triumph was followed in 1911 by Sifton{apos}s strong endorsement of the federal Liberal policy of reciprocity with the United States. Freer trade with the Americans was highly popular in Alberta, and it gave Arthur Sifton an opportunity to emerge clearly from the shadow of his brother Clifford, who was one of the policy{apos}s most formidable opponents.

For many Albertans, however, the major question in local politics was how the premier would extract the province from the mess created by the A&GW contract. Late in 1910 Sifton introduced legislation to wind up the railway company and to seize from the banks the proceeds, totalling some $7,400,000, of the bonds sold on its behalf. He was strongly opposed within his own party by Cross (so much for Cross{apos}s sentiments concerning unity in the Liberal family). When the banks refused to turn the money over, the province sued them. Since the province had guaranteed the bonds and interest at five per cent, the bondholders did not suffer, but during the litigation the money was not constructing one foot of railway. At first it looked as though the province might win: in 1911 Charles Allan Stuart of the Supreme Court of Alberta found in its favour; the following year the federal minister of justice, Charles Joseph Doherty*, refused to act on a petition for disallowance of Sifton{apos}s legislation, and the Supreme Court in banc dismissed an appeal from Stuart{apos}s decision. The Royal Bank of Canada then appealed directly to the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council, which in January 1913 found that the legislation was beyond the powers of the province. What might have been a crushing blow to the government proved not to be so serious. For one thing, late in 1911 Sifton had announced a new and extensive policy of railway construction, including a plan to build an alternative to the A&GW; by the time of the Privy Council decision substantial building had taken place and there was considerable optimism in the province about the future. For another thing, Sifton in 1912 brought Cross into the cabinet as attorney general, thus partially healing the Liberal rift. Finally, the ablest Conservative and de facto leader of the opposition, Richard Bedford Bennett, had been elected to the federal parliament in 1911. There is little doubt as well that a redistribution (or gerrymander) of seats worked decisively in the government{apos}s favour. In the 1913 general election the Liberals took 38 seats, to 18 for the Conservatives.

Yet another reason for the Liberal victory was Sifton{apos}s assiduous cultivation of the farm vote. The United Farmers of Alberta [see James Speakman*] was becoming a powerful political pressure group: both the Liberals and the Conservatives were anxious to be seen to be supportive of the farmer. Sifton and his minister of agriculture, Duncan McLean Marshall*, had the advantage of being in power and able to deliver on their promises. The 1913 session of the legislature, just before the election, was called by Liberals the {d-0}farmers{s-1-unknown} session.{d-1} Three agricultural schools were established, including one in Sifton{apos}s riding of Vermilion. The Alberta Farmers Co-operative Elevator Company Limited was incorporated [see Edwin Carswell*], and another act provided for the organization of cooperatives. The Direct Legislation Act introduced referenda and popular initiation of legislation under certain conditions. The historian Lewis Gwynne Thomas notes that these and other acts {d-0}all . . . had been foreshadowed in the resolutions of the convention of the U. F. A. in January, 1913.{d-1} The reality was, according to Thomas, that most Albertans were alienated from, or mistrusted, both traditional parties, and support for the Sifton government was temporary, not deeply rooted. Even fiscal policies were {d-0}calculated to avoid giving offence to the agrarian interest.{d-1}

With the advent of World War I the demands of the UFA only increased. Pressure from the farmers, from other well-organized lobby groups, and from the perceived moral exigencies of war led Sifton to introduce two important, and related, measures: Prohibition and votes for women. A referendum on Prohibition was held in 1915 and was carried by a large majority; the government passed the Liquor Act the next year. Despite the efforts of the UFA and such activists as Emily Gowan Murphy [Ferguson*] and Helen Letitia McClung [Mooney*], Sifton had refused to allow women to vote in the referendum; however, he promised a government measure in 1916 to place {d-0}men and women in Alberta on the basis of absolute equality so far as Provincial matters are concerned.{d-1} Assented to in April that year, the act made Alberta the third province, after Manitoba and Saskatchewan, to grant women the vote.

Another question that concerned Sifton was the issue of provincial control of natural resources, which for the three prairie provinces remained under federal control. He had raised the matter with Laurier in March 1911, and he forwarded his letter to Robert Laird Borden shortly after the latter became prime minister that fall. In 1913 at a dominion-provincial conference the premiers of Manitoba and Saskatchewan, Sir Rodmond Palen Roblin* and Thomas Walter Scott*, joined with Sifton in asking for a meeting {d-0}to consider the transfer to the prairie provinces of the natural resources within these provinces.{d-1} Despite the fact that Borden had long ago committed himself to transferring control, federal-provincial discussions were unproductive. Nevertheless, Sifton refused to make a public issue of attacking the federal government. He did not believe in east versus west, he noted in a Montreal interview in 1913. Rather, he was reported as saying, he stood for {d-0}a Canada united whether on matters of tariff or imperialism.{d-1} {d-0}{s-0}We must pull together,{s-1-unknown} is his motto.{d-1}

Such views may at least partially explain Sifton{apos}s actions in 1917. In June his government was sustained in a provincial election, with 34 Liberals elected against 19 Conservatives and 3 Independents. But by that time a crisis was brewing in federal politics over the related issues of conscription of manpower for overseas military service and the formation of a non-partisan government to ensure, among other things, that conscription was carried out. The issue severely divided the Liberal party, both nationally and in Alberta, between the unionists, who believed that wholehearted commitment to winning the war must be paramount, and the Laurier loyalists, who agreed with Sir Wilfrid in his opposition to both measures. Early in August, Sifton attended a Liberal convention in Winnipeg, at which he attacked the Borden administration and its war record; coalition under Borden would be impossible. However, the Borden cabinet baulked at the idea of coalition under another leader, and eventually, in early October, Sifton agreed to enter the new Union government. He retired that month as premier of Alberta and was succeeded by Charles Stewart*. Having been sworn in as dominion minister of customs on 12 October, he was elected for the constituency of Medicine Hat in the federal election of 17 December.

During his time in Ottawa Sifton was probably one of the least known members of the government. His declining health reinforced his tendency to be reclusive and speak little; apparently he never walked any distance, but required a car to transport him even the few hundred yards from his apartment in the Château Laurier hotel to the House of Commons. He was deliberately given what were thought to be light portfolios, serving as minister of customs and inland revenue from 18 May 1918 to 1 Sept. 1919, as minister of public works from 3 September to 30 Dec. 1919, and as secretary of state from 31 Dec. 1919. He also served on the war committee of the cabinet and, in 1919-20, as the first chairman of the Air Board, which was designed to establish standards and structures for regulating air traffic in Canada. In none of these positions did he make a great impact, though he did his work with efficiency. Yet his colleagues valued his concise and articulate contributions in council: as Borden later recalled, {d-0}Among his colleagues, his rare intellectual power was universally acknowledged; in questions of difficulty, there was no one in whose judgment I placed firmer reliance, while I was head of the Government.{d-1}

Probably Sifton{apos}s greatest contribution came in the behind-the-scenes work he did as a Canadian delegate - along with Borden, C. J. Doherty, and Sir George Eulas Foster* - to the Paris Peace Conference in 1919. He served as vice-chair of the commission on ports, waterways, and railways and represented Canadian interests with respect to the commission on aerial navigation. He also assisted in the preparation of the labour convention, which established the International Labour Organization, and the drafting of regulations governing international flying. His main concern always was to ensure recognition of Canada{apos}s equality of status among the nations. He found to his chagrin that constant vigilance was necessary because his country{apos}s closest allies, the British and the Americans, were frequently inclined to include Canada in a generic category of the British empire, the interests of which were assumed to be one. Asked to contribute his thoughts for a volume commemorating the peace conference, Sifton wrote, {d-0}Canada has no desire in return for or in regard to her sacrifices save that in matters in which she is vitally interested she should be treated as an equal.{d-1} This position would not be fully acknowledged until the Balfour Declaration of 1926. In the absence of Sir Robert Borden, Sifton and Doherty signed the final form of the peace treaty on 28 June 1919 at Versailles.

Early in 1921 Sifton took leave from his duties for a few days, stating that he required rest and quiet. Unhappily his health became rapidly worse. Then, just when it seemed that there might be hope for improvement, his condition again suddenly deteriorated and he died at home in Ottawa about 8:30 a.m. on 21 Jan. 1921. He was buried there three days later in Beechwood Cemetery. {d-0}In him,{d-1} observed Borden, {d-0}the country loses a public servant of the highest ability and of the most conspicuous patriotism.{d-1}

A. L. W. Sifton left few personal papers. The largest collection is in LAC, MG 27, II, D19, but this material consists almost entirely of official papers relating to his duties as a cabinet minister or his role at the Paris Peace Conference. The other major collection, in the Legal Arch. Soc. of Alberta (Calgary), comprises Sifton{apos}s judicial notebooks. There are quite a few letters from Sifton to his brother in the Sir Clifford Sifton papers (LAC, MG 27, II, D15), mostly in the period 1896-1903. There are also useful, if scattered, documents in the Laurier, Borden, and Arthur Meighen papers (LAC, MG 26, G, H, and I).

Sifton{apos}s early life has been pieced together largely from accounts in newspapers and standard biographical sources. Several obituaries also cast light on his career. Of the secondary sources, the most valuable is L. G. Thomas, The Liberal party in Alberta: a history of politics in the province of Alberta, 1905-1921 (Toronto, 1959), which despite its age is the only serious scholarly examination of Sifton{apos}s time as premier of Alberta. The entry in L. [A.] Knafla and Richard Klumpenhouwer, Lords of the western bench: a biographical history of the supreme and district courts of Alberta, 1876-1990 (Calgary, 1997), is most helpful on Sifton{apos}s judicial career. [d.j.h.]

Univ. of Alta Arch. (Edmonton), file 2315-5 (honorary degree recipients). Calgary Herald, November 1898-June 1899 (weekly ed.); 10 Oct. 1914 (daily ed.). Edmonton Journal, 10 Oct. 1914. Manitoba Free Press, 22 Jan. 1921. Montreal Daily Star, 21 Jan. 1921. Morning Albertan (Calgary), 12 Oct. 1914. Ottawa Citizen, 21 Jan. 1921. Ottawa Evening Journal, 21 Jan. 1921. Standard (Montreal), 8 Nov. 1913. Toronto Daily Star, 21 Jan. 1921. Alberta in the 20th century: a journalistic history of the province, [ed. Ted Byfield et al.] (12v., Edmonton, 1991-2003), 2-3. D. R. Babcock, Alexander Cameron Rutherford: a gentleman of Strathcona (Calgary, 1989). Canadian annual rev., 1901-21. Canadian directory of parl. (Johnson). Canadian men and women of the time (Morgan; 1912). CPG, 1899-1920. Cyclopædia of Canadian biog. (Rose and Charlesworth), vol.3. J. W. Dafoe, Clifford Sifton in relation to his times (Toronto, 1931). Directory of the Council and Legislative Assembly of the North-West Territories, 1876-1905 (Regina, 1970). D. J. Hall, Clifford Sifton (2v., Vancouver and London, 1981-85); {d-0}T. O. Davis and federal politics in Saskatchewan,{d-1} Saskatchewan Hist. (Saskatoon), 30 (1977): 56-62. J. S. Heard, {d-0}The Alberta and Great Waterways Railway dispute, 1909-1913{d-1} (ma thesis, Univ. of Alta, 1990). C. C. Lingard, Territorial government in Canada: the autonomy question in the old North-West Territories (Toronto, 1946). The official history of the Royal Canadian Air Force (3v. to date, [Toronto and Ottawa], 1980- ), vol.2 (W. A. B. Douglas, The creation of a national air force, 1986). Faye Reineberg Holt, {d-0}Women{apos}s suffrage in Alberta,{d-1} Alberta Hist. (Calgary), 39 (1991), no.4: 25-31. C. B. Sissons, A history of Victoria University (Toronto, 1952). Standard dict. of Canadian biog. (Roberts and Tunnell), vol.1. L. H. Thomas, The struggle for responsible government in the North-West Territories, 1870-97 (Toronto, 1956). Paul Voisey, {d-0}The {s-0}votes for women{s-1-unknown} movement,{d-1} Alberta Hist., 23 (1975), no.3: 10-23.

Nothing is known of Louisa Sims{apos}s life before she and J. R. Rogers, a London compositor, emigrated from England to East London (Republic of South Africa), where their first child, Frank Arthur James, was born in August 1906. Early in 1910 the family left South Africa, stopped briefly in England, and came on to Toronto, where J. R. Rogers gained employment with the Methodist Book Room. In less than two months tragedy struck. Their son developed a mild case of diphtheria, and, because they lived in a boarding house, they were required to send him to the Isolation Hospital. On 30 June 1910 he died there of complications arising from exposure to scarlet fever and measles. Grief and indignation at the response of medical and civic officials to his concerns about the hospital propelled J. R. Rogers into the public arena. His complaints, once reported in the press, triggered an inquiry. By the time judge John Winchester had reported to city council in late November, exonerating the hospital staff and Charles Sheard, the city{apos}s medical officer of health, Rogers had become an amateur authority on infectious diseases and public health. To draw attention to their crusade, on 29 July 1911 he and Louisa published the first issue of Jack Canuck, a biweekly tabloid that unexpectedly found a niche in the Toronto newspaper world, where notions of virtuous journalism held sway. Through the fall of 1911 Jack Canuck would run articles on pure water, excessive levels of infant mortality, smallpox vaccinations, the Toronto inquiry, and other investigations conducted by Winchester.

The paper was a family affair, launched {d-0}without a dollar of capital. It was edited sometimes in the kitchen, sometimes in the cellar.{d-1} As a review of {d-0}what the public say, do and think,{d-1} it largely lived up to its motto, Truth and Justice. The first months{s-1-unknown} issues bristled with allegations of capitalist exploitation (especially of young working women), the betrayal of public trust by civic officials, and calls for reform so passionately felt that R. Rogers (as J. R. signed himself) relinquished the editorship for November 1911, recognizing that {d-0}the constant stare of a vacant chair in the home has made us bitter . . . too bitter to render the public service this journal should render.{d-1} He recovered and set about to create {d-0}a wild and earthy weekly,{d-1} evoking the formula pioneered in London, England, by Henry Du Pré Labouchere{apos}s Truth. Weekly publication began on 24 Feb. 1912. Louisa was the legal owner and thus the vendor when, buoyed by their success, the Rogerses in October incorporated the Jack Canuck Publishing Company Limited, which bought the paper.

Various local journalists contributed to Jack Canuck, notably Harry Milner Wodson. To cultivate a national circulation, Rogers relied on out-of-town stringers, or correspondents, whose use meant some loss of editorial control. Sensationalism was the style, a matter as much of tone as content. Stringers and muckraking both carried the risk of libel action, however, and the Rogerses faced their share. As well, there were the self-styled guardians of public morality, among them the Reverend Thomas Albert Moore*, who occasionally complained to provincial authorities about the paper{apos}s corrupting influence. Jack Canuck nevertheless attracted a steady cross-class readership. Sales depended heavily on newsboys and news-stands, though subscriptions were encouraged - even the Senate{apos}s reading room in Ottawa subscribed. Over the years, there would always be the causes of the moment along with the police-court stories, the personal trivia, the mining-stock tips, and innumerable odds and ends. The appeal to readers for articles or letters - an often contrived and well-worn device to encourage loyalty - may have elicited the infamous racist diatribes against the {d-0}Yellow Peril{d-1} penned for Jack Canuck in 1911-12 by Fred Jarrett. Editorial sympathies, notionally politically independent but resoundingly populist, could waver on particular issues. The most notable instance occurred during the moral panic of 1911-13 over the so-called white slave trade, when the paper printed excerpts from the Reverend John George Shearer{apos}s chapter in Fighting the traffic in young girls . . . (Chicago, 1911) but then exposed the book{apos}s local promoter, the Reverend Robert B. St Clair, superintendent of the Toronto Vigilance Association. Jack Canuck gleefully reported St Clair{apos}s trial for publishing obscene material in an attempt to censor a local burlesque show.

From the outset of World War I Jack Canuck, ever the crusader against corruption and its attendant, lax government regulation, fought war profiteering. Determined to report first-hand on battlefield conditions for the Canadian forces in France, J. R. Rogers lost his life when the Lusitania was torpedoed on 7 May 1915. The paper continued, with Louisa{apos}s name discreetly replacing her husband{apos}s in the masthead. After the war, she bought a house and lived comfortably with her young daughter, Thelma. Contributors such as cartoonist Jack Newton became mainstays, the paper attracted reputable local and national advertising, and, with its modest market in urban centres throughout Ontario, western Canada, and the northern United States, circulation figures appeared healthy. An average weekly run of 65,000 copies in the immediate post-war period placed the paper well ahead of the prominent Saturday Night (Toronto). By 1919 Jack Canuck was championing such serious causes as fair employment for veterans. Although it revived its editorial irreverence in the early 1920s, with biting cartoons and moments of vitriolic commentary at election time, the intelligent, focused passion of the pre-war years was gone. Louisa, an admitted arm{apos}s-length publisher, was rudely confronted with the truth that print-run did not secure commercial success - the key remained minimizing the return of unsold papers. After a couple of years of {d-0}very little{d-1} profit, the final issue appeared on 13 Sept. 1924 and a printer{apos}s suit for $2,000 forced Jack Canuck Publishing to file for bankruptcy in January 1925. In short order, Louisa sold her house, settled the bankruptcy, and left Toronto, apparently for Florida. As early as August 1926 her solicitors were unable to locate her. Compensation for the loss of her husband was sent in 1931 to a lawyer in Toronto, but there is no conclusive evidence that she was alive at the time.

AO, RG 4-32, 1910, interim box 10; 1915, file 753; RG 22-305, no.30063; RG 22-392, box 183, file 6741; RG 22-5800, 1919, nos.1167, 1176, 1635; RG 22-5822, 4, no.18/25; RG 55-1, liber 142: f.93. City of Toronto Arch., RG 1, B-2, box 6 (1910); RG 5, D, box 10, files 3, 5. LAC, RG 117, 37, file 490, case 1606. Evening Telegram (Toronto), 11 Feb. 1913, 8 May 1915. Globe, 9-10 May 1915. Hamilton Spectator, 5 Sept., 7 Nov. 1913. News (Toronto), 8, 10 May 1915. Toronto Daily Star, 27-29 July 1910. World (Toronto), 11 Feb. 1913, 8 May 1915. S. E. Houston, {d-0}{s-0}A little steam, a little sizzle and a little sleaze{s-1-unknown}: English-language tabloids in the interwar period,{d-1} Biblio. Soc. of Canada, Papers (Toronto), 40 (2002): 37-60. Madge Pon, {d-0}Like a Chinese puzzle: the construction of Chinese masculinity in Jack Canuck,{d-1} in Gender and history in Canada, ed. Joy Parr and Mark Rosenfeld (Toronto, 1996), 88-100. Dan Schiller, Objectivity and the news: the public and the rise of commercial journalism (Philadelphia, 1981). Bill Sloan, {d-0}I watched a wild hog eat my baby!{d-1}: a colorful history of tabloids and their cultural impact (Amherst, N.Y., 2001).

A member of John Street Presbyterian Church, he was for many years superintendent of its Sunday school, as well as clerk of the session, member of the board of managers, and delegate to the General Assembly. His involvement in the Young Men{apos}s Christian Association was even greater. Over the years he served in all of its volunteer positions, including that of president; his main contribution seems to have been in the management of its finances.

By 1921 the branch was thus unattractive to anyone who might be a prominent and forceful candidate for president. (Spence would likely not have encouraged such a candidate.) So it was that Sinclair quietly became president on 24 Feb. 1921, at the branch{apos}s annual convention in Toronto. His subsequent impact appears to have been minimal, even during the heated campaign that spring over the referendum on importing liquor into Ontario. The branch continued its decline, and Sinclair{apos}s name rarely appears in records of executive or committee meetings. The weak condition of the branch was underscored by the fact that the single name put forward to succeed him as president was nominated without the candidate{apos}s permission or knowledge. At the poorly attended convention held a few months after Sinclair{apos}s death in August 1922, his name was only briefly mentioned.

David V. Sinclair{apos}s obituary in the Belleville Daily Intelligencer in August 1922 praises him largely in terms of his service to the local community. This assessment seems fair.

Raised in England, with an elementary education, Leonard Skill immigrated to Canada in 1890. An uncle, Henry Herbert Skill, had settled in Cobourg, Ont., in 1883 following his retirement from the British army. Leonard first appears in Toronto directories in 1900. Beginning in 1901 he worked for William Clarke as treasurer and then manager of the Globe Library Club (publishers{s-1-unknown} agents) and Clarke{apos}s publishing and importing business. In early 1905 he opened the Toronto Antiquarian Book Company, with an inventory of some 18,000 rare and second-hand volumes. Skill purchased private libraries, issued monthly catalogues to customers in Canada and the United States, and earned a respectable reputation among the many established politicians, businessmen, and clergy who were his patrons. In addition to the standard antiquarian fare of history, biography, and belles-lettres, the company offered more explicit and {d-0}realistic{d-1} works, principally translations of Greek, Latin, and modern Continental literature.

In 1907 the bookstore fell under the scrutiny of the Reverend John George Shearer of Toronto and Anthony Comstock, the famed American vice crusader and postal inspector. Comstock complained frequently that Skill was forwarding immoral literature and advertising through the United States mail. Shipments of books from Skill{apos}s Paris suppliers were consequently subjected to repeated confiscations by Canadian postal and customs officials in 1907 and 1908. On 29 June 1909, equipped with a search warrant and reports from Comstock, post-office inspector James Henderson and Toronto morality police seized more than a dozen books, including unexpurgated translations of Balzac, Barbey d{apos}Aurevilly, Brantôme, Flaubert, Hector France, Loti, and Petronius Arbiter, as well as 7,000 catalogues allegedly employing {d-0}language manifestly intended to commend them to the prurient mind.{d-1} Skill and his store manager, John Campbell King, were charged with selling, and posting circulars advertising, literature {d-0}tending to corrupt morals.{d-1}

Represented by Hugh Edward Rose and James Walter Curry respectively, Skill and King pleaded not guilty at the preliminary hearing on 14 July before magistrate Rupert Etherege Kingsford*. Among the witnesses called by prosecutor Herbert Hartley Dewart (filling in for crown attorney John William Seymour Corley) were Henderson, to whom Skill admitted having mailed the catalogues; George Herbert Locke*, head of the Toronto Public Library, who testified the books were {d-0}unfit for circulation{d-1}; and Arthur Jukes Johnson, Toronto{apos}s chief coroner, who dismissed Brantôme as {d-0}lewd{d-1} and Barbey d{apos}Aurevilly as {d-0}absolutely foul.{d-1} The defence argued that the booksellers had no criminal intent and that the books, which possessed more literary merit than others previously accorded the court{apos}s sanction, had been sold without restriction for years. The fact that they were published in limited editions, and cost between $20 and $30 in a market where popular writers such as Charles William Gordon* (Ralph Connor) sold for 50 cents, limited their appeal to collectors and prevented their general circulation. Moreover, Curry argued, books which might, if sold to the general public, be deemed objectionable, were not so when placed in the hands of physicians, professionals, or scholars. In the end Kingsford found sufficient evidence to commit Skill and King to trial.

Following several delays, and sensing perhaps that the books were indefensible by contemporary standards, Skill and King changed their pleas to guilty on 20 December. On 3 Jan. 1910 they received a scathing reprimand from judge John Winchester, who maintained that no court could justify having the books read aloud to a jury, the {d-0}filth{d-1} being so great that {d-0}they would never get clear of it, no matter how long they lived.{d-1} Skill and King were each sentenced to a year in the Central Prison in Toronto.

The federal minister of justice, Allen Bristol Aylesworth*, received applications and petitions urging clemency from more than two dozen prominent businessmen and clergy familiar with the prisoners. He reviewed the books, some of which he deemed to be classics, and discussed the case with provincial attorney general James Joseph Foy. Upon Aylesworth{apos}s advice to Governor General Lord Grey*, Skill and King were pardoned and, on 4 March, released. Forced to justify his action in parliament, Aylesworth declared that both men had engaged in {d-0}the ordinary legitimate business of respectable book selling{d-1} and that, in his judgement as a lawyer, they were not guilty.

The pardons aroused an almost unprecedented degree of outrage among reformers and their political allies. The secular press, led by the Toronto Globe in a series of blistering editorials, accused Aylesworth of being {d-0}a traitor to private decency and national character{d-1} for sanctioning the expression of {d-0}the grossest unnatural sensuality.{d-1} Religious conservatives denounced him for {d-0}sodomizing{d-1} Canada. Vociferous protests and demands for his resignation were lodged by such groups as the Moral and Social Reform Council of Canada, various Presbyterian, Methodist, and Baptist church bodies, and the Canadian Press Association.

The Reverend James Alexander Macdonald, editor of the Globe, privately warned Sir Wilfrid Laurier* in April that {d-0}there is more political gunpowder in this than in almost anything else that has come up of late{d-1} and urged that translations of authors such as Brantôme be {d-0}absolutely forbidden.{d-1} In a rare venture into literary criticism, the prime minister argued that Brantôme{apos}s object was to provoke mirth, not passion, and his work should not be considered {d-0}half so dangerous for youth as some other books of almost daily circulation,{d-1} including Shakespeare. Did Macdonald, he wondered, really desire an index expurgatorius within the Presbyterian Church?

Despite considerable pressure and embarrassment to the government, Laurier refused to censure or dismiss his friend and minister, while Aylesworth vowed that {d-0}if the same thing were to be considered over again, . . . I should act in exactly the way in which I have acted throughout.{d-1} For his part, Skill soon parted company with his store manager. He renamed his shop the Toronto Book Company in 1911, and continued to own and operate it, apparently without further incident, until he was struck and killed by an automobile in 1923. He was buried in Hillview Cemetery in Woodstock.

Skill{apos}s conviction provides a rare glimpse into the mechanisms used to suppress {d-0}objectionable{d-1} books in early-20th-century Canada. Reform organizations had initiated many such campaigns since the 1890s and typically received the cooperation of authorities, notably the Post Office and Customs departments. The Skill case, however, is memorable for the literary merit of the books involved and the extraordinary controversy it generated following federal intervention.

George Robert Smith took commercial courses in Newark and moved to Canada at the age of 16. Soon after his arrival he became interested in the mining industry. He began his career by working in the silver mines near Kingston, Ont. He then managed the mica, graphite, and phosphate mines belonging to William Anderson Allan near Buckingham from 1881 to 1886. From 1886 to 1892 he was a representative of the Ingersoll Rock Drill Company, an American enterprise that had a branch in Montreal during the 1890s. In this capacity he made frequent visits to the mining companies of the Eastern Townships and got to know various owners. His experience there was no doubt what prompted the Englishman John Bell to appoint him manager of his firm, Bell{apos}s Asbestos Company, in 1892. Smith now moved to Kingsville (Thetford Mines) and became the first of a long line of Smiths to hold a managerial position in this corporation. Following the purchase of Bell{apos}s Asbestos by the American firm of Keasbey and Mattison Company, Smith in 1906 became vice-president and manager of mining operations, positions he held for the rest of his life.

With his enterprising spirit and marked interest in mining, Smith was able to invent and improve equipment that greatly enhanced the reputation of what was commonly known as the Bell Mine, which was considered a leader in new technology. In 1893 it became the first in the world to own an asbestos reduction plant; this innovation was the result of work done by John J. Penhale (who had perfected the technique of milling asbestos for the mines at Black Lake) and extended by Smith. In 1893 and 1894 Smith also developed the notion of underground galleries to facilitate operations during the winter. In 1894 he invented the suction fan, driven by the motor of a steam-powered winch, which separated the fibre from the rock and graded it mechanically. It was an ingenious concept, and one that increased productivity. In 1906 the Bell Mine became one of the first enterprises of its kind to use a steam locomotive, another innovation attributable to Smith{apos}s creative genius. During his 30 years in management at the Bell Mine, Smith worked at progressively mechanizing the mining industry and improving its performance. As a result of mechanization 95 per cent of the ore could be milled at the mine itself, a total of about 500 tons a day, by 1894. Under Smith{apos}s leadership, the enterprise, which had between 450 and 500 employees, enjoyed a sound financial position and an excellent reputation around the world. The company{apos}s exports went mainly to the United States, but at the turn of the century, Great Britain, Belgium, France, and Germany became important customers for the Bell Mine.

George Robert Smith{apos}s appointment as vice-president and manager of the Bell Mine marked the beginning of a long family tradition with the company. From 1892 to 1972 the firm (which became Bell Asbestos Mines Limited in 1936) always had a member of the Smith family as president. The history of this man and his descendants exemplifies the control that Americans and English Canadians had over the asbestos industry in Quebec before it was nationalized by the province in 1978. It also illustrates all the efforts made by these men to develop the mining sector of the economy.

ANQ-O, ZQ127/25, 3 mars 1886. Musée Minéralogique et Minier de Thetford Mines, Qué., G. W. Smith, {d-0}La famille Smith et la Bell Asbestos Co. de 1892 à 1971{inch} (texte dactylographié, 1972). Le Devoir, 21 févr. 1922. Montreal Daily Herald, 4 March 1905. La Tribune (Sherbrooke, Qué.), 21, 24 févr. 1922. Romain Dubé et al., Thetford Mines à ciel ouvert: histoire d{apos}une ville minière, 1892-1992 (Thetford Mines, 1994). [Clément Fortier], Black Lake: lac d{apos}amiante, 1882-1982 (2v., s.l., 1983-86), 1. G. W. Smith, Bell Asbestos Mines Ltd., 1878-1967 (n.p., 1968).

Harley Smith{apos}s father, a bookkeeper, was a native of Fritton in Suffolk County, England; his mother came from County Cavan (Republic of Ireland). Educated at Lord Dufferin School and Jarvis Street Collegiate Institute, in 1884 he graduated from the University of Toronto with a ba and a gold medal in languages. (It would become clear from his marriage that he was especially proficient in Italian.) After a period of time teaching in Strathroy, Ont., and Toronto, he attended the Toronto School of Medicine and in 1888 received his mb from the university, with first-class honours in surgery and clinical medicine. A youthful abstainer, he had served in 1887-88 as president of the Toronto Students{s-1-unknown} Temperance League.

Smith developed a successful private practice in Toronto and became quite active in the city{apos}s medical community, though not as a member of the university faculty. In 1898 he was an inspector of {d-0}maternity boarding homes.{d-1} Among his institutional affiliations, Smith, an Anglican, was secretary of the Medical Alumni Association from 1889 to his death, secretary-treasurer of the Toronto Medical Students{s-1-unknown} Mission Board in 1890-92, a board member of the Victorian Order of Nurses, and honorary treasurer of the medical department of the Church Missionary Society. More significantly, he was a charter fellow (1907) and president (1924-25) of the Toronto Academy of Medicine.

Over the course of his career, Smith{apos}s views on the pressing issues of his day in health and medicine were frequently highlighted in the newspapers. Harshly critical of practitioners who were not allopathically trained, he called in 1924 for stronger laws against {d-0}those who attempt to practice without preparation.{d-1} He also cautioned against the rising rate of medical (especially surgical) specialization among physicians in Ontario. General practice, he maintained, {d-0}requires more knowledge of human nature and more experience over a wide field of observation.{d-1} These concerns were typical of the generation trained in the late 19th century, whose professional successors were drawn to the prestige and potential of specialization. At the same time, Smith enthused about medical advances, notably the discovery of the relationship between vitamins and health and hopeful research into the treatment of diabetes. Like many doctors, he was sceptical about the harmful effects of tobacco, noting that alcohol was more dangerous, but he did recommend that those under 20 refrain from smoking in case it triggered some inherited disability during growth. His opinions on alcohol and physical development were consistent with his involvement in the temperance movement and with his philanthropic interests, as a board member of the Canadian Purity-Education Association, vice-president of the Children{apos}s Aid Society, and president of the Young Men{apos}s Christian Associations of the Provinces of Ontario and Quebec.

Smith{apos}s medical career had defined his participation in World War I. He joined the Canadian Army Medical Corps in February 1916 and went overseas in April with the rank of captain. His records reveal that he was a small man - five feet four inches, 125 pounds. Promoted major in October, he served at various hospitals in England and France. Afflicted by neuralgia in his right arm, he returned to Canada in September 1919. Smith{apos}s sons had also enlisted; one was killed at Dommiers in France while serving with the French Foreign Legion. Sometime after his return Smith was appointed medical officer to the Toronto Scottish Regiment, a position he held until 1928.

Harley Smith{apos}s interest in Europe predated the Great War. His study of languages and his marriage in 1890 to Isabelle Gianelli, daughter of produce dealer and honorary consul Angelo Michel François Gianelli, had drawn him into the Italian community in Toronto. Appointed consular agent there in September 1901, Smith retired in March 1915, when the elevation of the post to a vice-consulate required a native Italian trained in diplomatic service. During that period he often dealt with immigration matters and, with his wife, was active in the cultural activities sponsored by such organizations as the Umberto Primo Benevolent Society; in 1915 Isabelle was on the local committee of the Italian Red Cross Society. In recognition of Harley{apos}s duties he was made a chevalier of the Order of the Crown of Italy.

After the war, Smith{apos}s interest in Italy continued. He shared his expertise in Italian affairs in the form of several presentations to the Toronto community in the grand settings of the Royal Alexandra Theatre and Massey Music Hall, and in more humble surroundings such as the Anglican Church Home for the elderly on Oxford Street and the Aged Women{apos}s and Aged Men{apos}s homes on Belmont. During a trip to Italy in 1927, he took part in a service at the tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Rome and interviewed Fascist leader Benito Mussolini. As an unofficial envoy, he helped Mussolini and Ontario premier George Howard Ferguson* exchange greetings. He lauded Il Duce{apos}s record in post-war reconstruction and labour policies, and defended him in the face of growing concerns about his handling of the church and Italy{apos}s royalty. Like many, Smith saw the Fascists{s-1-unknown} resistance to the communist threat and their policies of regeneration as signs of a model European state.

Harley Smith died from a heart attack in August 1929, arguably before the worst excesses of Mussolini{apos}s regime had become fully evident. Survived by his wife, two sons, and a daughter, he was buried in St James{s-1-unknown} Cemetery. At his funeral, a friend from student days, the Reverend Henry John Cody*, lamented the loss of {d-0}the cheery little doctor who had always some good scheme in hand.{d-1} Smith{apos}s professional views on medicine, his interests in philanthropy, his services in war, and his links to the Italian Canadian community and to Italy had made him a remarkable figure.

AO, RG 22-305, no.62567; RG 80-5-0-192, no.13657; RG 80-8-0-1158, no.6136. LAC, RG 150, Acc. 1992-93/166, box 9051-11. St James{s-1-unknown} Cemetery and Crematorium (Toronto), Tombstone, lot 109 north sect.8. UTA, A1973-0026/430(63). Daily Mail and Empire, 8 Oct. 1924, 19 Sept. 1927, 13 Aug. 1929. Daily Telegraph (Toronto), 3 March 1928. Evening Telegram (Toronto), 20 Feb. 1926, 16 Jan. 1928. Globe, 18 Sept. 1919; 7 May 1924; 23 Jan. 1925; 21 April, 14, 21 July, 17 Sept., 8 Nov. 1927; 28 Jan., 5 Nov. 1928; 13, 15 Aug. 1929. Toronto Daily Star, 5 Nov. 1896; 6 Oct. 1898; 19 Dec. 1903; 19 July 1904; 8 Feb. 1905; 12, 22 March, 30 July 1915; 10, 28 Nov. 1922; 7 May, 8-9 Oct. 1924; 6 March 1957. H. B. Anderson, {d-0}Harley Smith: for forty-five years secretary of the Medical Alumni Association,{d-1} Univ. of Toronto Monthly, 30 (1929-30): [9]. Can., Parl., Sessional papers, 1902, no.29, app.B: 45, 47. Canadian men and women of the time (Morgan; 1898 and 1912). Directory, Toronto, 1875-1909. Univ. of Toronto, University of Toronto roll of service, 1914-1918 (Toronto, 1921).

Joseph William Spencer{apos}s great-grandfather Robert Spencer was a loyalist from New Jersey and New York who had served with Butler{apos}s Rangers during the American Revolutionary War. Spencer believed that he was related to the Winthrops of Massachusetts and Connecticut, and after he moved to the United States, he added Winthrop to his name, though he generally signed J. W. Spencer. His father, who had founded the Gore grist and paper mills in Dundas, died when he fell from the roof of one of the mill buildings shortly after his son{apos}s birth. Young Joseph was educated in Dundas, but in 1867 he and his mother moved to Hamilton, where he worked for two years for druggists T. Bickle and Son. By this time he was already interested in geology and chemistry, in part stimulated by his contact with amateur geologists active in the Hamilton Association, which sought to promote literature, science, and art.

Spencer became professor of geology and chemistry at King{apos}s College, in Windsor, N.S., in 1880. Two years later he was appointed to the chair in geology and mineralogy and curator of a new natural history museum at the University of Missouri. He helped to design, build, and equip the museum, but university president Samuel Spahr Laws{apos}s plans ran into political and financial troubles, and Spencer lost his position. He joined the University of Georgia in 1888 and became state geologist two years later. He began a geological survey of the northwest part of the state, but soon faced political problems once again since he was more interested in stratigraphy than in gold mining. In 1894 he moved to Washington, D.C., where he worked as a consultant geologist until his return to Canada in 1920. He died in the following year and is buried in the family grave in Dundas.

Spencer{apos}s first publication in 1875 dealt with the geology of the Hamilton region. Among other early work to appear in print was a paper on the Michigan copper mines read before the Natural History Society of Montreal in 1876 and published that year in the Canadian Naturalist (Montreal) and several on the Palaeozoic geology and fossils of the head of Lake Ontario. His significant research began with his study of preglacial valleys, including the buried Dundas valley, which he originally interpreted as part of an early river system (he called it the Erigan River) draining west through the Lake Erie basin. The work was encouraged by J. Peter Lesley, state geologist of Pennsylvania, whom he had met at a meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, and was published in the Proceedings (Philadelphia) of the American Philosophical Society in 1882. Spencer later discovered evidence that the Erigan River had flowed, not up the Grand River and through the Dundas valley, but across the Niagara peninsula west of St Catharines. Further studies convinced him that all the Great Lake basins were originally eroded by a major river system draining east into the St Lawrence valley. He believed the original topography was preglacial and only slightly modified during the ice age.

As far as his teaching duties would allow, Spencer spent the years between 1881 and 1889 working on raised beaches of lakes formed at the end of the ice age ({d-0}proglacial lakes{d-1}). Many of these beaches were first mapped and named by him. That of the Lake Ontario basin he called the Iroquois beach, described in a paper published in the transactions of the Royal Society of Canada in 1890. By accurate mapping and levelling, Spencer soon discovered that the beaches were no longer level but had been tilted upward towards the north; furthermore, the higher (and therefore older) the beaches, the more they were tilted, a discovery which showed that the tilting was already in operation when the beaches were being formed. Spencer followed Dawson{apos}s views about the ice age: he did not believe in the existence of massive ice sheets and attributed phenomena such as boulder clay and striated rocks to the action of floating ice. He therefore did not recognize that tilting of the beaches had been produced by {d-0}glacial rebound{d-1} (resulting from removal of the load of ice on the crust), but thought it was a widespread, fundamental tectonic process that had affected the whole of eastern North America. He was convinced that the Great Lakes region had stood much higher before the ice age, had been flooded by the sea in more recent times, and had then begun to rise again. Thus he believed that the proglacial lakes were actually marine or brackish, with floating ice, not freshwater lakes dammed by ice sheets, as American contemporaries such as Grove Karl Gilbert and Thomas Chrowder Chamberlin thought. Only in 1910 did Spencer admit (privately) that proglacial lakes were formed by ice-sheet dams, as Gilbert had first proposed in 1871.

Spencer{apos}s earliest paper on Niagara Falls was published in 1887. He returned to the area often, even after he moved to the United States, and in 1905 he persuaded Bell, who was acting director of the Geological Survey of Canada, to sponsor a new study of the falls. Published in 1907, it involved a detailed re-survey of the crest line to determine the rate of recession and the first accurate determination of the depth of the river at the whirlpool and just below the falls. His theoretical analysis of the relationship between the rate of erosion and river discharge was criticized by Gilbert in a review published the following year in the journal Science (New York). As a result of his incorrect mechanical investigation and flawed study of the drainage history, Spencer{apos}s estimates of the age of the falls could not be taken very seriously, even before the era of carbon-14 dating. Nevertheless, the book was generally well received at the time, and the survey data are still valuable.

[J. W. W. Spencer is the author of more than 100 technical publications, but many were abstracts or republications of material that had appeared elsewhere (a common practice at the time). Two good bibliographical sources which list many of Spencer{apos}s works are J. M. Nickles, Geologic literature on North America, 1785-1918 (2v., Washington, 1923-24), and E. W. Shaw, {d-0}Memorial of Joseph William Winthrop Spencer,{d-1} Geological Soc. of America, Bull. (New York), 35 (1924): 25-36. In 1919 Spencer donated his collections and papers to the Univ. of Manitoba Libraries, Dept. of Arch. and Special Coll. (Winnipeg), MSS 30 (Spencer, J. W.), but the papers include no letters. Letters to J. W. Dawson are in MUA, MG 1022; to Robert Bell in LAC, MG 29, B15; and to J. P. Lesley in American Philosophical Soc. Library (Philadelphia), B L56 (J. Peter Lesley papers).

Spencer{apos}s best known publication, which summarizes his work not only on the Niagara region but also on the evolution of the Great Lakes basins is The falls of Niagara: their evolution and varying relations to the Great Lakes; characteristics of the power, and the effects of its diversion (Ottawa, 1907). For a modern perspective, K. J. Tinkler, {d-0}Déjà vu: the downfall of Niagara as a chronometer, 1845-1941,{d-1} in Niagara{apos}s changing landscapes, ed. H. J. Gayler (Ottawa, 1994), 81-109, contains a short section on Spencer and discusses his work in relation to other research on Niagara Falls, and K. J. Tinkler et al., {d-0}Postglacial recession of Niagara Falls in relation to the Great Lakes,{d-1} Quaternary Research (Orlando, Fla), 42 (1994): 20-29 cites Spencer briefly. g.v.m.]

AO, RG 22-305, no.44167; RG 80-5-0-241, no.490. Univ. of Rochester Library, Dept. of Arch. and Special Coll. (Rochester, N.Y.), A.F16 (Herman LeRoy Fairchild papers, 1869-1943). G. V. Middleton, {d-0}J. W. Spencer (1851-1921): his life in Canada, and his work on preglacial river valleys,{d-1} Geoscience Canada (St John{apos}s), 31 (2004): 49-56; {d-0}J. W. Spencer (1851-1921): his life in Missouri and Georgia, and work on proglacial lakes,{d-1} Geoscience Canada (forthcoming); {d-0}The Spencers of Dundas{d-1} (speech given to the Dundas Valley Hist. Soc. (Dundas, Ont.), 21 April 2004; a copy can be found at www.unityserve.org/dundashistory/articles/0008.shtml). Morris Zaslow, Reading the rocks: the story of the Geological Survey of Canada, 1842-1972 (Toronto and Ottawa, 1975).

The Starkman family arrived in Canada sometime around 1900, and settled in the Ward area of downtown Toronto. Legends of Besha Starkman{apos}s early life say that she worked as a seamstress in an Eaton{apos}s sweatshop. The ambitious young woman found her job and her marriage to Harry Tobin, a Russian who drove for a bakery, frustrating. In 1912 the Tobins rented rooms in their house on Chestnut Street to Rocco Perri, a young immigrant from the Calabria region of Italy. Within a year, Bessie had abandoned her husband, children, and Jewish faith and gone to St Catharines to join Perri, then a labourer on the Welland Canal. By 1916 they were living in Hamilton, where Rocco worked at first as a salesman for a macaroni company; later they ran a small grocery store.

A world of opportunity for organized crime was created by the institution in 1916 of the Ontario Temperance Act, the rejection in 1919 of Prohibition in Quebec, and the expiry of federal controls on the interprovincial movement of liquor. Bootleggers in Ontario had gained valuable experience by the time the United States adopted Prohibition in January 1920. Rocco and Bessie Perri were already taking advantage of the situation in Ontario through a gang made up largely of Calabrians in the Hamilton-Niagara region. Bessie quickly emerged as the gang{apos}s head of business and negotiator, the first woman publicly to rise so high in the ranks of organized crime in Canada.

In August 1921 a ruling by a court in Windsor, that there was no Canadian law prohibiting the export of liquor, set the stage for rumrunning on a grand scale. With Ontario still dry, the Perris expanded from the Hamilton-Kitchener-Windsor triangle and sold large amounts of liquor and beer across the province; boxcar loads went to New York State via Niagara and to Detroit and Chicago via Windsor. It was Bessie who placed orders with the distilleries and breweries, laundered the money and handled the bank accounts, dealt with other gangsters on liquor and drug deals, and paid gang members and bribes. Fond of expensive clothing and jewellery, she often displayed a high-handed manner that would alienate members of the Perri mob. In one incident, Rocco promised compensation to the family of a man killed by the police. When the man{apos}s uncle appeared to claim the money, she reportedly told him to {d-0}go to hell.{d-1}

Rocco and Bessie Perri took part in a revealing interview with the Toronto Daily Star in November 1924. Labelled the {d-0}King of the Bootleggers,{d-1} Rocco did most of the talking, but it was Bessie who guided the interview and interrupted at key points. Her most sensational public appearance was her testimony in March 1927 before the federal royal commission on customs and excise, in reality an investigation of liquor smuggling. Under cross-examination by assistant counsel Robert Louis Calder, she denied any connections to bootlegging and feigned ignorance on many questions, including a number about telephone calls from her home to distilleries. As a result of their testimonies - Rocco had also been examined - and statements in the tax-evasion trial in December of the Gooderham and Worts distilling firm, the Perris were charged with perjury. Likely as part of a plea bargain, the charges against Bessie were dropped when Rocco pleaded guilty; he was sentenced to six months in a reformatory.

The Ontario government{apos}s replacement of the temperance act by the Liquor Control Act in June 1927 killed most of the bootleg market. With the liquor business declining, the Perri mob began to expand their drug trade. Apparently Bessie was the leader in making the deals. In June 1929, with hundreds of dollars in her purse, she showed up at a house in Toronto in the midst of a drug raid by the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. With no other evidence, they released her, but her appearance prompted an undercover operation by Sergeant Frank Zaneth [Franco Zanetti*]. At one point she met Zaneth, who was acting as a Chicago drug dealer, in a roadhouse. There was no deal, and the operation went nowhere.

On 13 Aug. 1930 Bessie was killed by shotgun blasts as she and Rocco were leaving the garage of their home. Her funeral on the 17th, the day after the opening in Hamilton of the first British Empire Games, was an unruly scene. Thousands of spectators attempted to break through police lines at the house and later at the small Jewish cemetery south of Hamilton. An investigation by the Ontario Provincial Police concluded that Bessie{apos}s arrogance was the probable underlying motive for her murder, but that still left a number of suspects. It was clear she had angered members of the Perri gang by ordering them around and refusing to pay expenses. Three theories emerged: she had been shot by disgruntled members of the gang acting alone, she had broken enough mob customs that Rocco Perri had acquiesced in her murder, and she had reneged on a drug deal with gangsters from Rochester, N.Y., who had shot her. No arrests were made. Her estate went to Rocco and her two married children, Lillian Shime and Gertrude Maidenberg.

The decline of the Perri empire after Bessie{apos}s death strongly suggests that it was her skills that had helped the gang become prominent. Although Rocco began living in 1933 with another strong woman, Annie Newman, who helped him revive the fortunes of the gang, it never became as dominant as it had been with Bessie running the business.

Harry Staveley studied with Professor Frederick East at Quebec and trained as an architect in his father{apos}s firm. In 1863 he was made a partner and it became known as Edward Staveley and Son. By the time of Edward{apos}s death nine years later, Harry had begun the productive career that would make him the foremost {d-0}Victorian{d-1} architect in Quebec City. He was initially influenced by his father, who had adopted a blend of late neoclassicism and Italian Renaissance. The financial elite of the old capital found this image, which was made known by the model books of the American architect Minard Lafever and was widely favoured in Montreal and farther west, reassuring. Harry{apos}s work broadened to embrace the formal repertory of historicism more fully. His many cottages, villas, and row houses show the picturesque influence of two Americans, Calvert Vaux and Samuel Sloan. This favourite architect of the anglophone middle class also borrowed stylistic features from the Second Empire. Unlike Joseph-Ferdinand Peachy*, Eugène-Étienne Taché*, Georges-Émile Tanguay, and François-Xavier Berlinguet*, who used elements of this style to re-Gallicize the urban landscape, Staveley confined himself to a rather whimsical interpretation of it, one that was inspired more by the model books of American east coast architects than by the classic French examples. His houses thus add colour to the Grande Allée and to what would become known as the old city, both of them typically French in their austerity and symmetry. He also designed a number of interesting religious buildings, in fact the only ones in the Quebec City region bearing traces of the ecclesiologist movement that Augustus Welby Northmore Pugin had launched in Great Britain [see Henry Langley*].

Of the four children born to Harry Staveley and Barbara Black, Harry Lorn and Edward Black also pursued careers in architecture. The former worked for the Montreal firm of William Tutin Thomas, but the latter entered his father{apos}s business in 1900, and thus the Staveley name would live on in Quebec City. Indeed, Harry{apos}s career, which had been extremely productive from 1872 until 1900 while he was working on his own, gained fresh impetus with the arrival of Edward Black. A graduate of McGill University and fully conversant with the latest trends in British architecture, Edward Black put his compositional skill to good use in Staveley and Staveley. In a milieu ossified by the apprenticeship system, the firm was thus able to move beyond the model books and to limit the growing domination of the Quebec scene by architects from Montreal, Toronto, and the United States. Along Chemin Saint-Louis and the extension of the Grande Allée, but also Chemin Sainte-Foy, Avenue des Érables, and Avenue du Parc, the new Montcalm ward became the showplace of the comfortable homes in which Edward Black excelled. The Staveleys{s-1-unknown} reputation spread beyond the city limits, gaining them the opportunity to build real mansions. Cascade House, erected for Sir William Price at Kénogami (Jonquière), Colin Cathcart Breakey{apos}s manor at Breakeyville, and the Hôtel Roberval (in the village of that name), which was owned by Benjamin Alexander Scott and Horace Jansen Beemer*, are fine examples of their work. The firm also tendered successfully for public buildings - fire stations, schools, and hospitals - a market that had hitherto been closed to them.

Staveley and Staveley declined after the death of Harry in 1925. Limited to engaging in {d-0}domestic{d-1} architecture by difficult economic conditions, the departure of the anglophone entrepreneurial middle class, and the staleness of his architectural idiom, Edward Black retained the name of the family firm until 1936. He retired in 1960 and, a few years later, bequeathed the Staveley family papers to the Archives Nationales du Québec. They include 1,447 drawings and constitute one of the most interesting collections of 19th- and 20th-century architectural designs in Canada.

ANQ-Q, CE301-S62, 9 févr. 1862; CE301-S66, 18 oct. 1876; Index BMS, dist. judiciaire de Québec, Metropolitan Church (Québec), 27 juill. 1925; P541. Gazette (Montreal), 19 Sept. 1969. Quebec Chronicle-Telegraph, 17 Sept. 1969. Luc Noppen et Marc Grignon, L{apos}art de l{apos}architecte: trois siècles de dessin d{apos}architecture à Québec (Québec, 1983). S. F. Poulin, {d-0}L{apos}architecture résidentielle des Staveley, 1846-1954{d-1} (mémoire de ma, univ. Laval, Québec, 1995). A. J. H. Richardson et al., Quebec City: architects, artisans and builders (Ottawa, 1984), 507-17. The storied province of Quebec; past and present, ed. W. [C. H.] Wood et al. (5v., Toronto, 1931-32), 3: 52. Who{apos}s who and why, 1912.

Stefán Guðmundsson was born on a rented farm, Kirkjuhóll, in the northern Icelandic region of Skagafjörður. Educated at home, during his teen years he practised verse making, following old skaldic traditions. If poetry was his avocation, farming was his vocation; in Iceland his work was limited to raising sheep. When he immigrated to the United States in 1873 with his family and a small contingent of Icelanders, American officials, misunderstanding his father{apos}s patronymic of Stefánsson, gave the name Stephansson to the entire family. Later in life, Stephan chose to sign his name Stephan G. Stephansson, although he still used his native name of Stefán Guðmundsson among his Icelandic friends. The family settled first in Wisconsin, where Stephan learned the rudiments of tilling the soil and married Helga, his first cousin, in 1878. In 1888, in Garðar (Gardar, N.Dak.), he incurred the wrath of many of his church-going countrymen when he helped organize the Hins Islenzka Menningarfelags (Icelandic Cultural Society), a debating club based on the Society for Ethical Culture founded by prominent freethinker Felix Adler in New York City.

A collapse of the grain market forced the family{apos}s final move, in 1889, to the Alberta district of the North-West Territories. Stephansson would become a naturalized citizen five years later. Homesteading along the Medicine River north of Calgary, on SW10-T37-R2-W5, he raised cattle and sheep. He was the first secretary of the joint-stock company formed by farmers in 1899 to support a dominion government creamery in nearby Markerville. His reliance on livestock, however, did not preclude his planting of various grains, and in 1900 he was the first member of the Icelandic settlement to harvest rye. In addition to the post he held with the creamery company, he was a justice of the peace and a member of the local school board.

Although Stephansson had written some poetry before moving to Alberta, it was during his years on the Canadian prairies that he honed his craft, marrying traditional Icelandic metre (as well as experimenting with new metres) to the philosophy of the American freethinkers. His long view of history and man{apos}s place in it is evident in his poem {d-0}Staddur a grothrarstoth{d-1} [At the forestry station] of 1917:

Monuments crumble. Works of mind survive The gales of time. Men{apos}s names have shorter life. Forgetful time may mask where honor{apos}s due But mind{apos}s best edifices live and thrive.

Despite controversy, Stephansson was well respected as a poet. Writing only in Icelandic, he excelled at intricate metaphors, wonderful imagery, and neologism. Much of his verse romanticized Iceland and its history; {d-0}þó þú langförull legðir{d-1} [Song to Iceland] of 1903 has been set to music and is considered an important national song. The narrative {d-0}A ferð og flugi{d-1} [En route] of 1898, an excellent example of his descriptive ability, tells of the immigrant experience crossing the prairies by train in mid winter:

Other themes include the value of hard work, adversity as challenge, and the transience of life. Much of his verse dwells on the beauty of the Alberta landscape, and in Iceland he became known as Klettafjallaskadið, or the poet of the Rocky Mountains. The first three volumes of his collected works, Andvökur [Sleepless nights], were published in 1908-9 in Winnipeg. Stephansson{apos}s bitter satire and his use of archaic words and convoluted style generated criticism, but Andvökur also brought new exposure and popularity, which led to reading tours of North Dakota, Manitoba, and Saskatchewan in 1908-9 and the west coast in 1913. The greatest honour came in 1917 when the people of Iceland invited him to return for a four-month tour; he was regarded by many there as the best Icelandic poet to have emerged since the 13th century. With the publication of two more volumes in 1923 and a sixth posthumously in 1938, his output fills more than 2,000 pages, making him one of Canada{apos}s most prolific poets.

A complete bibliography of the works of Stephan Gudmundur Stephansson can be found in the author{apos}s study, written under the name J. W. McCracken, Stephan G. Stephansson: the poet of the Rocky Mountains ([Edmonton], 1982). Translated examples of his writings are in [S. G. Stephansson], Selected prose & poetry, trans. Kristjana Gunnars (Red Deer, Alta., 1988), and Selected translations from {d-0}Andvökur{d-1}, ed. Jane Ross (Edmonton, 1982).

LAC, RG 15, DIII, 10, 144, f.25 (mfm. at PAA). Private arch., Edwin Stephansson (Markerville, Alta.), Stephan G. Stephansson papers. Univ. of Manitoba Libraries, Elizabeth Dafoe Library (Winnipeg), Icelandic Coll., Stephan G. Stephansson{apos}s book coll. Peter Carleton, {d-0}Tradition and innovation in twentieth century Icelandic poetry{d-1} (phd thesis, Univ. of California, Berkeley, 1967). F. S. Cawley, {d-0}The greatest poet of the western world: Stephan G. Stephansson,{d-1} Scandinavian Studies and Notes (Menasha, Wis.), 15 (1938): 99-109. M[agnús] Einarsson, {d-0}Oral tradition and ethnic boundaries; {s-0}West{s-1-unknown} Icelandic verses and anecdotes,{d-1} Canadian Ethnic Studies (Calgary), 7 (1975), no.2: 19-32. Stefán Einarsson, A history of Icelandic literature (New York, 1957). V. J. Eylands, Lutherans in Canada, intro. F. C. Fry (Winnipeg, 1945). J. C. F. Hood, Icelandic church saga (London, 1946). Icelandic lyrics: originals and translations, ed. Richard Beck (Reykjavík, 1930). Skuli Johnson, {d-0}Stephan G. Stephansson (1853-1927),{d-1} Icelandic Canadian (Winnipeg), 9 (1950-51), no.2: 9-12, 44-56. Watson Kirkconnell, {d-0}Canada{apos}s leading poet: Stephan G. Stephansson (1853-1927),{d-1} Univ. of Toronto Quarterly, 5 (1935-36): 263-77; The North American book of Icelandic verse (New York and Montreal, 1930). W. J. Lindal, The Icelanders in Canada (Winnipeg, 1967). Kerry Wood, The Icelandic-Canadian poet, Stephan Gudmundsson Stephansson, 1853-1927: a tribute (Red Deer, [1974]).

STEPHEN, GEORGE, 1st Baron MOUNT STEPHEN, businessman, financier, and philanthropist; b. 5 June 1829 near Dufftown, Banffshire, Scotland, son of William Stephen, a carpenter, and Elspet Smith, a crofter{apos}s daughter; m. first 8 March 1853 Annie Charlotte Kane (d. 1896) in Woolwich (London), and they had a stillborn child and adopted a daughter; m. secondly 27 Nov. 1897 Gian Tufnell (d. 1933) in Westminster (London), and they had a stillborn child; d. 29 Nov. 1921 in Brocket Hall, Hertfordshire, England.

George Stephen was still an infant when his parents moved to Dufftown, in Banffshire. Educated at the parish school until age 14, he worked briefly at a local hotel and then in Aberdeen as an apprentice to a silk merchant. In 1847 his father and sister immigrated to Montreal. The following year Stephen moved to London, where he worked for a dry goods firm; the remainder of his immediate family went to Montreal. Stephen followed in 1850, after having secured employment with his cousin William Stephen, an importer of dry goods. Within several years Stephen had become the firm{apos}s chief buyer. After the death of his cousin in 1862, he took over the business with his youngest brother, Francis. The rapid advance of his career was shown by his election to the Montreal Board of Trade in July 1864. Three years later he sold the dry goods firm to Francis and his partner, Andrew Robertson*.

In 1866 Stephen had established a new firm, George Stephen and Company, which concentrated on the sale and manufacture of woollens and other cloths. He would also act as an agent for textile manufacturers. That year he provided financing to Bennett Rosamond* and his brother William for their tweed mills in Almonte, Upper Canada, and he would be among the incorporators of the Almonte Knitting Company in 1882. By 1866 he had met his cousin Donald Alexander Smith*, a chief factor in the Hudson{apos}s Bay Company. The two were to become partners in a myriad of businesses and their careers and fortunes would be closely allied. One of their first investments, in 1868, was the Paton Manufacturing Company of Sherbrooke, a woollen mill built by Andrew Paton*. In 1890 the same partners would acquire the Quebec Worsted Company and, later, a Sherbrooke mill from the firm of Adam Lomas and Son.

In 1870 Stephen had begun to take an interest in railways, forming the Canada Rolling Stock Company. Smith{apos}s convincing tales of the promise of the Canadian northwest encouraged Stephen to attach his name in 1871 and 1873 to two proposals to build lines to Fort Garry (Winnipeg). Although these projects never materialized, his involvement dispels the fable, later circulated by railway executive Sir William Cornelius Van Horne*, that his interest in western railways had been the result of a chance trip from Chicago to St Paul, Minn., in the late 1870s.

A director of the Bank of Montreal since 1871 and vice-president from 1873, Stephen was named president in March 1876. His presidency coincided with a period of economic depression. Nonetheless, the bank maintained its position as Canada{apos}s principal consumer and investment bank. Stephen{apos}s role was partly ceremonial and partly political, but he was often called on to take an active part in the bank{apos}s affairs, travelling to London and New York to meet with leading financiers.

Although he was initially apolitical, Stephen occasionally spoke at public meetings or issued trenchant statements on economic issues. Ostensibly a free trader, as the economic depression of the 1870s deepened he became an advocate of higher tariffs for certain products and of duty exemptions for specialized equipment, such as that used in textile manufacturing or railway construction. By the late 1870s he was increasingly seen as an ally of the Conservatives. After Sir John A. Macdonald* was re-elected prime minister in 1878, textile and rolling mills were among the industries that received favourable treatment under the National Policy. As was the case with other businessmen of his age, Stephen{apos}s politics closely followed his economic interests.

In 1877 Smith had introduced Stephen to James Jerome Hill*, a businessman who ran steamboats on the Red River. In August, Stephen visited the unfinished line of the St Paul and Pacific Railroad in Minnesota that Hill sought to purchase and complete to the Canadian border; he was inspired by the prospects. Their meeting led to the establishment of George Stephen and Associates, one of the most profitable partnerships in the history of North American railways. Stephen, Smith, and Hill were joined by Hill{apos}s steamboat partner, Norman Wolfred Kittson*. An essential but invisible associate was John Stewart Kennedy, a New York investment banker. The following year Stephen and his partners purchased the line for $5,500,000 in cash and bonds. Unable to obtain financing from London investment banks, Stephen and Smith pledged cash and collateral for their shares, securing short-term financing from the Bank of Montreal. The railway was renamed the St Paul, Minneapolis and Manitoba Railroad, with Stephen as president.

In Montreal{apos}s financial community the audacious deal was controversial. It was widely rumoured that Stephen had used his position as president of the Bank of Montreal to obtain loans at preferred rates and with limited collateral. The profits that the company reaped even before the link was established to Winnipeg in December 1878 fuelled these rumours. Stephen{apos}s railway enterprises were to be dogged by the press, which closely examined the complicated financial structures for which he would become renowned. He would treat the {d-0}scribblers{d-1} with contempt, but worried incessantly about their effect on his businesses and reputation.

In the summer of 1880 Stephen began negotiations to secure the contract to build the Canadian Pacific Railway. Using Duncan McIntyre* of the Canada Central Railway as his frontman, he sparred with Macdonald and his minister of railways and canals, Sir Charles Tupper*, over the terms. The final agreement provided the CPR with $25,000,000 in cash, 25,000,000 acres of land west of Winnipeg, and 713 miles of finished railway. The CPR was given tax exemptions, relief on duties for building materials, and a 20-year monopoly prohibiting the construction of railways south of its line in western Canada. When the contract was signed in Ottawa on 21 Oct. 1880, the syndicate comprised Richard Bladworth Angus, Stephen, McIntyre, and Hill, as well as Kennedy. Representatives of Morton, Rose and Company, the investment bank led by former finance minister Sir John Rose*, and of Kohn-Reinach et Compagnie, a Franco-German banking house, were also involved. Smith, who had earned Macdonald{apos}s animosity, was left off the list, but he would be a substantial shareholder and a valuable assistant to Stephen. The CPR was incorporated on 16 Feb. 1881, with Stephen as president. He immediately resigned from the board of the Bank of Montreal to dedicate himself to the railway.

Stephen miscalculated the time and effort the CPR would require; by November 1881 he admitted it was {d-0}assuming dimensions far beyond my calculations.{d-1} He withdrew from the daily management of the Manitoba line and recalled its vice-president, Angus, to Montreal to assist him with CPR matters. At Hill{apos}s suggestion, he hired Van Horne to manage the construction of three major sections. But Hill was unable to persuade the syndicate to abandon the Lake Superior route, which he correctly forecast would be a drag on the CPR in addition to being in direct competition with the Manitoba railway.

The task Stephen faced, of finding additional financing, proved to be as difficult as that of building across 2,000 miles of forest, swamp, rivers, and mountains. The total cost was estimated at $100,000,000, of which at least half had to be secured. Stephen proposed to finance the CPR largely by limiting its ownership to {d-0}the smallest possible point,{d-1} by raising money from a select group of investors, and by providing investors with returns relative to the railway{apos}s performance. In so doing, he adopted the model used on the Manitoba line, in which the company would have sufficient funds to reinvest in its line and rolling stock, thereby lowering its operating expenses and building share value. Short-term financing was to be provided by the government grant paid on the completion of each mile of track as well by the revenue from land sales. Stephen{apos}s plan was to pattern land settlement along the route, based on the experience of the Manitoba railway, where waves of immigrants had provided the road with passengers and generated freight traffic almost immediately. Both strategies proved to be optimistic. The location of the CPR became the object of speculation, driving land prices to unreasonable levels. Immigrants were not immediately attracted to the prairies, whose fertility had long been the subject of debate. Stephen{apos}s schemes to entice settlers from Scotland and Ireland did not get support from the British government, and the HBC, which owned large tracts of land, proved to be a recalcitrant partner in the settlement of the west.

Although Stephen showed considerable tactical skill in creating an eastern network for the CPR, the capital it had required put increasing demands on the syndicate{apos}s financial resources. By 1883 the syndicate was showing signs of strain. The CPR had found few investors in the capital markets of London and New York, so Stephen had to borrow against his Manitoba stock and pledge his new Montreal mansion as collateral. Finally he and Smith sold some of their shares in the Manitoba railway in order to meet the CPR{apos}s expenses and dividend payments. Hill refused to do the same for fear of losing majority control of the line. He had come to the realization that the CPR would compete fiercely with his own railway for eastbound traffic. He resigned from the CPR board in May 1883, but held on to half of his shares out of loyalty to his partners. Kennedy also left, depressing the CPR stock yet further and making Stephen{apos}s increasingly frantic attempts to find capital more difficult.

In the face of the looming crisis, McIntyre resigned in May 1884 and soon after forced the other directors to buy his shares, earning Stephen{apos}s lifelong enmity. Stephen had successfully lobbied Macdonald for a bill to guarantee the CPR{apos}s dividend payments, due in November 1884, and pay other expenses; the legislation had passed in March. By the beginning of 1885, Stephen, Smith, and Angus had exhausted their collateral. They used the exposure of the Bank of Montreal to the CPR and the threat to the security of the banking system generally as the pretext for a second relief bill. Tupper and mp John Henry Pope* argued convincingly in cabinet in support of the measure. The outbreak of the North-West rebellion [see Louis Riel*] in March 1885 provided ample evidence of the value of a transcontinental link; troops were transported in seven days where it had taken four months in 1870 at the time of the Red River uprising. This situation eased passage of the bill, assented to on 20 July 1885, which provided for a new bond issue that brought the railway enough money to stave off its creditors and complete construction. Stephen was absent when Smith pounded home the last spike at Craigellachie, B.C., on 7 Nov. 1885.

Whether they had held on out of obstinacy, recklessness, or pride, Stephen, Smith, and Angus were the sole members of the original syndicate to have stayed. The support of Macdonald and his cabinet had proved essential and had provided a counterweight to the CPR{apos}s shaky financial foundations. Yet Stephen refused to accept the argument that the CPR owed its existence to the government. He dismissed any attempts to impinge on the railway{apos}s freedom and became embroiled in a very public battle of several years{s-1-unknown} duration with the Manitoba government of Premier John Norquay* over the unpopular monopoly clause. Bowing to public pressure in 1888, the CPR allowed for the construction of branch lines south of its main line, but it wrestled a compensatory payment from the federal government. On this and other issues, Stephen proved himself ill-suited to public debate, his threats and condemnations serving only to fan the flames of discontent. He resigned from the CPR{apos}s presidency on 7 Aug. 1888, supporting the appointment of Van Horne as his replacement. He remained a director until 1893, but thereafter showed only sporadic interest in the railway; he reduced his holdings substantially and even encouraged others to follow suit.

As the CPR{apos}s first president, Stephen had played politicians ably and his indefatigable pleading had proved effective. He also deployed an extensive network of allies, whom he secured by various means. For instance, Pope, the influential minister, was offered advantageous options on stock in the New Brunswick Railway (also acquired by the CPR). When Hugh John Macdonald, son of the prime minister, announced his move to Winnipeg to open a law office with a son of Tupper, Stephen immediately offered $5,000 of legal business from the CPR{apos}s land department. The extent to which Stephen had acquired the allegiance of Macdonald and his government is hinted at in a letter he wrote to the prime minister in 1890 in which he mentioned that he had personally contributed more than $1,000,000 to the Conservative party since 1882.

If Stephen rued his involvement in the CPR, it was largely because of the toll it took on his own portfolio. His liquidation of a substantial portion of his stake in the Manitoba railway to finance the CPR made him a poorer man than Hill. He also regretted having encouraged his associates to invest in the CPR, knowing that the Manitoba railway was a better opportunity. Although he had resigned the presidency of the Manitoba board in February 1884, he nurtured lifelong affection for his first railway venture and for its enterprising president. Hill developed the St Paul, Minneapolis and Manitoba line into the Great Northern Railroad and built his own transcontinental network. It remained Stephen{apos}s principal investment and the source of most of his wealth. In key moments in the expansion of Hill{apos}s empire Stephen would prove to be his staunchest ally.

In 1883 Stephen had moved into the mansion he built in Montreal. Designed by William Tutin Thomas, the house cost some $600,000. It has been described by architectural historian Arthur John Hampson Richardson as a {d-0}one of the real masterpieces of the [Italianate] style in Canada.{d-1} After Stephen moved to England, the residence was used by his sister Elsie and her husband, Robert Meighen, who acquired it in 1900. It would become the Mount Stephen Club in 1926.

One of the most generous philanthropists of his time, Stephen sought no accolades for his gestures. Although he made ample provision for his 19 nieces and nephews and the relatives of his two wives, he directed much of his wealth towards hospitals. In 1890 he and Smith had acquired the Frothingham estate [see John Frothingham*] in Montreal as the site for the Royal Victoria Hospital and they contributed $500,000 each to its construction. After it opened in 1893, they gave an additional $500,000 each in stock to pay for the building and establish an endowment fund. Stephen also donated a wing to the Montreal General Hospital and made donations to hospitals in Scotland, but he reserved the bulk of his wealth for a single charity, the Prince of Wales Hospital Fund for London (renamed King Edward{apos}s Hospital Fund in 1907). Established in 1897, it assisted the voluntary hospitals in the greater London area. Stephen worked closely with the Prince of Wales (later George V) in building the endowment and was its most important benefactor. His total gifts to it amounted to £1,315,000.

Historian Donald Grant Creighton* dubbed Stephen {d-0}perhaps the greatest creative genius in the whole history of Canadian finance.{d-1} His phrase nicely captures the ambiguous nature of Stephen{apos}s success; creativity in finance is often synonymous with dishonesty. Stephen and the members of his syndicate were assailed at the time as business magnates who manipulated politics, the press, and the financial community to their own gain. The contrast with Stephen{apos}s view of himself could not be starker. His gravestone carries the inscription {d-0}wise in his benefactions, of stainless integrity.{d-1} Although he used the complete arsenal employed by financiers to cajole and convince, his chief asset appears to have been his buoyant optimism and his power of persuasion. His obituary in the Times (London), penned by associate Gaspard Farrer, ascribed his success to the fact that {d-0}he had the gift of instantaneously inspiring confidence and arousing enthusiasm and devotion. . . . In his presence doubt and difficulties vanished and hope and confidence revived.{d-1}

James Jerome Hill Reference Library (St Paul, Minn.), J. J. Hill papers (mfm. at LAC). LAC, MG 26, A; MG 29, A28, A30; MG 30, D59, 18. Private arch., Alexander Reford (Grand-Métis, Qué.), George Stephen, 1st Baron Mount Stephen, letter-book. Gazette (Montreal), 19-20 Aug. 1879. Globe, 12 Sept. 1883. Times (London), 1 Dec. 1921. Michael Bliss, Northern enterprise: five centuries of Canadian business (Toronto, 1987). C. J. Brydges, The letters of Charles John Brydges, 1883-1889; Hudson{apos}s Bay Company land commissioner, ed. Hartwell Bowsfield, intro. J. E. Rea (Winnipeg, 1981). Canada Gazette, 16 Dec. 1871. D. [G.] Creighton, John A. Macdonald, the old chieftain (Toronto, 1955; repr. 1965). Merrill Denison, Canada{apos}s first bank: a history of the Bank of Montreal (2v., Toronto and Montreal, 1966-67). Dominion annual reg., 1879-81, 1885-86. J. A. Eagle, The Canadian Pacific Railway and the development of western Canada, 1896-1914 (Kingston, Ont., 1989). Ben Forster, A conjunction of interests: business, politics, and tariffs, 1825-1879 (Toronto, 1986). Heather Gilbert, {d-0}A footnote to history: the unaccountable fifth; solution of a Great Northern enigma,{d-1} Minn. Hist. (St Paul), 42 (1971): 175-77; The life of Lord Mount Stephen . . . (2v., Aberdeen, Scot., 1965-77); {d-0}Mount Stephen: a study in environments,{d-1} Northern Scotland (Aberdeen), 1 (1972), no.2: 177-97. R. D. Lewis, Manufacturing Montreal: the making of an industrial landscape, 1850 to 1930 (Baltimore, Md, 2000). London Gazette, 26 June 1891. Donna McDonald, Lord Strathcona: a biography of Donald Alexander Smith (Toronto and Oxford, 1996). Albro Martin, James J. Hill and the opening of the northwest (New York, 1976; repr., intro. W. T. White, St Paul, 1991). Keith Morris, The story of Lord Mount Stephen (London, 1922). A. A. den Otter, {d-0}The Hudson{apos}s Bay Company{apos}s prairie transportation problem, 1870-85,{d-1} in The developing west: essays on Canadian history in honor of Lewis H. Thomas, ed. J. E. Foster (Edmonton, 1983), 25-47; {d-0}Transportation and transformation, the Hudson{apos}s Bay Company, 1857-1885,{d-1} Great Plains Quarterly (Lincoln, Nebr.), 3 (1983): 171-85. James Pope-Hennessy, Queen Mary, 1867-1953 (London, [1959]). A. J. H. Richardson et al., Quebec City: architects, artisans and builders (Ottawa, 1984). Types of Canadian women . . . , ed. H. J. Morgan (Toronto, 1903). B. J. Young, Promoters and politicians: the north-shore railways in the history of Quebec, 1854-85 (Toronto, 1978).

Stevenson{apos}s success was greatly aided by two factors. First, by 1890 he had obtained stock which had originated in Russia and had come to him from the Iowa State College of Agriculture and Mechanic Arts in Ames, Iowa. Grafting onto this stock, he created new varieties of fruit trees, including the Pine Grove Red apple and the Manitoba plum. The second factor, of equal or greater importance, was his insistence on protection for his trees, in the form of windbreaks and shelter belts. Indeed, his zeal for shelter belts led to his being appointed, at least as early as 1901, tree-planting inspector for the forestry branch of the Department of the Interior, attached to the Forest Nursery Station at Indian Head (Sask.). In this role he lectured extensively in the west on horticultural and forestry matters, becoming so prominent that in 1910 the Farmer{apos}s Advocate and Home Journal felt it was {d-0}safe to say that no man in the Canadian West is more generally known throughout the prairie provinces.{d-1}

Stevenson was a careful horticulturist. In 1890, for example, he wrote to the Nor{s-1-unknown}-West Farmer and Miller reporting on the results of growing forest-tree seedlings which he had obtained from the experimental farm in Ottawa. He described their survival rates and their measured rates of growth. He operated Pine Grove Nursery, an orchard and nursery, for 37 years, producing especially apples in commercial quantities. In 1909 he sold $500 worth of apples. Two years later his orchard produced 70 barrels and in 1913, 300 barrels. Eventually, he had 25 acres of land producing fruit. He had the best exhibit of apples at the Dry Farming Congress for Alberta, Saskatchewan, and Manitoba held in Lethbridge in 1912 and for it he received a prize of a case of silver valued at $400.

A strong supporter of his community, Nelson, Stevenson served as a school trustee and as an elder of the Presbyterian church. The thriving town disappeared almost overnight in 1881 when the Manitoba South-Western Colonization Railway was constructed a few miles further south, near what became Morden. Stevenson{apos}s success and fame in growing fruit in the region led to the establishment of the Dominion Experimental Farm at Morden in 1915. Stevenson had retired two years earlier, however. He turned his nursery over to his sons and moved to Winnipeg. While there, he spent much time at the Manitoba Agricultural College, where his experience was appreciated.

The commitment and careful experimentation of Alexander Stevenson were significant in clearly establishing the fact that good fruit could be grown on the prairies of western Canada. Many prairie residents have benefited from the work of the man who became known as the {d-0}Apple King.{d-1}

Alexander Patterson Stevenson{apos}s publications include Growing cherries in Manitoba ([Winnipeg?], 1914) and Growing plums in Manitoba ([Winnipeg?], 1914), as well as various articles on horticulture and sylviculture; a listing is available in Science and technology biblio. (Richardson and MacDonald). Several of Stevenson{apos}s reports as tree-planting inspector appear in Can., Parl., Sessional papers, reports of the Dept. of the Interior, 1902-5.

Farmer{apos}s Advocate and Home Journal (Winnipeg), 4 Jan. 1911. Manitoba Free Press, 23 Dec. 1922. Nor{s-1-unknown}-West Farmer and Miller (Winnipeg), December 1890. Winnipeg Tribune, 31 Aug. 1921. The hills of home: a history of the municipality of Thompson (Miami, Man., 1968). [J. W.] G. MacEwan, Fifty mighty men (Saskatoon, 1958). Manitoba Agricultural Extension News (Winnipeg), 3 (1923), no.1: 3-4. Western Canadian Soc. for Horticulture, Development of horticulture on the Canadian prairies; an historical review, ed. H. S. Fry (Edmonton, 1986).

In 1843 Thomas Stewart{apos}s father, a Presbyterian minister, emigrated from Scotland to Cape Breton Island. Thomas was born into the bosom of the Free Church of Nova Scotia, of which his father was moderator in 1851, and he duly followed him into the ministry. Educated first at Pictou Academy and Dalhousie University (ba 1882), he graduated from the Presbyterian College in Halifax (bd 1884). Licensed by the Presbytery of Halifax in April 1884, he spent the winter session of 1884-85 taking a postgraduate course in the divinity halls of the United Presbyterian Church and the Free Church in Edinburgh. There he came under the influence of Henry Drummond, professor of natural science in the Free Church college and an evangelical theologian whose works harmonized evolution and Christianity and directed Christians to shape their social environment. Stewart also did social work among children in the slums.

Returning to the Synod of the Maritime Provinces, Stewart was ordained by the Presbytery of Saint John in January 1886 and he served briefly as missionary at St George and Pennfield, N.B. In 1887 he was called to Sussex and in 1891 he moved to St James Church in Dartmouth, N.S., where he remained for 17 years. His active pastoral career ended in 1908, when he was appointed professor of church history and practical theology at the Presbyterian College, which granted him a dd that same year. Though he lacked scholarly interests, it was a post for which his formative experiences in Edinburgh had well prepared him. Not only did Stewart, like his father, believe strongly in the need for a learned ministry, he was also a notable evangelical preacher. Throughout his five years as a professor, he was a vigorous exponent of the Social Gospel, which he was chiefly responsible for carrying in the Maritime synod. Writing in Theologue (Halifax) in 1911, he challenged the church not to be indifferent to urban poverty of the sort found in Halifax and Sydney, and he urged ministers to take an active interest in parishioners{s-1-unknown} daily lives. He was joined in this advocacy by two other leading exponents of the Social Gospel in the Maritimes, the Reverend John William Angus Nicholson* of St James Church in Dartmouth and the Reverend William Henry Smith* of St Paul{apos}s Church in Fredericton. Their views helped significantly to draw the attention of Maritime Presbyterians to social problems that were perhaps broader in range than those which officially engaged the church{apos}s national and regional boards on temperance and moral reform [see John George Shearer].

In 1913 Stewart reluctantly abandoned academic life to accept the post of agent, or treasurer, of the board of trustees of the eastern section of the Presbyterian Church in Canada. He had been offered, and declined, the post on one or two previous occasions. According to historian John S. Moir, the agent acted as secretary of the home and foreign missions committees in the Maritime provinces and of the board of superintendents of the Presbyterian College, and as general treasurer for all church schemes except the Ministers{s-1-unknown} Widows{s-1-unknown} and Orphans{s-1-unknown} Fund. During the nine years he held the post, Stewart became nationally known within the church. He was already mortally ill, apparently with cancer, when elected moderator of the Maritime synod in September 1922; the previous June he had been appointed senior clerk of the General Assembly. He died in January 1923. Had he lived, only his principled opposition to interdenominational church union could have prevented his becoming moderator of the General Assembly, and he, rather than Ephraim Scott*, would likely have been chosen as first moderator of the continuing Presbyterian Church. Unlike many of his closest clerical friends and colleagues, he looked upon the union movement as schismatic.

Though a conservative in theology and ecclesiastical politics, Stewart was an evangelical whose commitment to social justice was rooted in the Scottish liberalism of his father and the Free Church. Another side showed in his obsession with foreign missions, the white man{apos}s burden, and jingoistic imperialism that was typical of mainstream Canadian Protestantism, but as a progressive Social Gospeller no senior Presbyterian minister stood in higher esteem than Stewart. {d-0}In him,{d-1} wrote Archibald McKellar MacMechan* in condolence to John Stewart, then dean of medicine at Dalhousie, {d-0}I always recognized the quality of steel. He made me think of a drawn sword, something clear, keen, powerful, - a weapon. He belonged to the Church militant. In his intellect, in his preaching, in his standard of faith and morals there was to me always this clearness, this keenness, as of a sword. I knew him chiefly in the pulpit, as a preacher of righteousness, unfaltering, uncompromising.{d-1}

[Thomas Stewart{apos}s papers, which must have been voluminous, have not survived. Knowledge of his career depends largely on the biographical sketch written shortly after his death by one of his oldest friends, the Reverend George Stephen Carson, and published in the family{apos}s memorial volume, Toward the sunrising and other sermons (Toronto, 1923). A sermon preached by Stewart in 1921 is reprinted in History, Church of St. James, Dartmouth, Nova Scotia ([Dartmouth, 1971?]). b.c.]

Dalhousie Univ. Arch. (Halifax), MS 2-82 (A. McK. MacMechan papers), C906. NSARM, Churches, St James United (Dartmouth), records, 1891-1908 (mfm.). UCC, Maritime Conference Arch. (Sackville, N.B.), Pine Hill Divinity Hall fonds, 1908-23. UCC-C, Biog. file. Evening Mail (Halifax), 11 Jan. 1923. Presbyterian Witness (Halifax), 1886-1923. E. A. Betts, Pine Hill Divinity Hall, 1820-1970: a history (Halifax, 1970). Michael Boudreau, {d-0}Strikes, rural decay and socialism: the Presbyterian Church in Nova Scotia grapples with social realities, 1880-1914,{d-1} in The contribution of Presbyterianism to the Maritime provinces of Canada, ed. C. H. H. Scobie and G. A. Rawlyk (Montreal and Kingston, Ont., 1997), 144-59. B. J. Fraser, The social uplifters: Presbyterian progressives and the Social Gospel in Canada, 1875-1915 (Waterloo, Ont., 1988); {d-0}Theology and the Social Gospel among Canadian Presbyterians: a case study,{d-1} Studies in Religion (Waterloo), 8 (1979): 35-46. A. D. MacKinnon, A history of the Presbyterian Church in Cape Breton (Antigonish, N.S., 1975). Presbyterian Church in Canada, General Assembly, Acts and proc. (Toronto), 1908-23; Synod of the Maritime Provinces, Minutes (Halifax, etc.), 1891-1923 (available in UCC, Maritime Conference Arch.). Presbyterian Record (Montreal), 1908-23. Theologue (Halifax), 1908-19.

William J. Stewart was the eldest son of a building contractor and officer in the Ottawa Field Battery. Raised in an Irish Anglican family, he was a gold-medal graduate of both the Ottawa Collegiate Institute (1879) and the Royal Military College of Canada in Kingston (1883), which emphasized engineering as well as military training. He initially worked in eastern Ontario as a survey engineer for the Department of Railways and Canals and then, in March 1884, he joined the Department of Marine and Fisheries as an assistant to British Admiralty surveyor John George Boulton, who was conducting a hydrographic survey of Georgian Bay. It had been prompted by a mounting loss of lives and shipping, including the steamship Asia in 1882. Stewart succeeded Boulton as officer in charge in 1893, though by this time Stewart{apos}s fieldwork had extended to the west coast [see William Smith*]; his resurvey of Burrard Inlet in 1891 was the first hydrographic survey conducted in salt water by Canadian authorities. To enhance his ability, in 1897 he secured certification as a ship{apos}s master on inland waters. With no national geodetic survey to use as a base for hydrography, he reported that same year, he and his crews routinely used transit theodolites, sextants, triangular plotting, soundings from whaleboats or small steamers, and floor sampling. In a typical season, from May to November, about 800 square miles could be sounded.

When the maritime survey functions of Marine and Fisheries, Public Works, and Railways and Canals were united to form the Canadian Hydrographic Service within Marine and Fisheries in 1904, Stewart was appointed chief surveyor. During his tenure, the service published charts, sailing directions, and tide tables that facilitated safe navigation; impressively, Stewart was responsible personally or as a supervisor for producing some 170 charts. Between 1910 and 1922 his branch was part of the Department of the Naval Service, along with the dominion{apos}s fledgling navy, fisheries protection, tidal and current survey, and radio-telegraphy.

William James Stewart is the author of {d-0}The Canadian Hydrographic Survey,{d-1} in British Assoc. for the Advancement of Science, Handbook of Canada, ed. Ramsay Wright and James Mavor (Toronto, 1897), 61-66.

AO, RG 80-5-0-141, no.3298; RG 80-8-0-988, no.9305. LAC, RG 25, A-3-a, 1296: file 1921-426; RG 32, C2, 554: file 1863.01.23; RG 48; RG 51; RG 139, 30-31. Ottawa Morning Journal, 6 May 1925. Can., Parl., Sessional papers, 1892, no.10: 146. Canadian who{apos}s who, 1910. {d-0}Friends of hydrography{d-1}: www.canfoh.org. (consulted 6 April 2004).

William Eugene Struthers{apos}s Scottish-born father had immigrated to Cape Breton in 1847 and married an islander. In 1855 the family relocated to Bayfield, on Lake Huron south of Kincardine. John Struthers appears to have prospered: in the 1870s he owned a woollen factory in Bayfield. After attending local schools and Goderich collegiate, William secured medical degrees in 1897 from Trinity College (md, cm) and the University of Toronto (mb). He completed his medical studies in Europe, and for a time in 1901–5 he practised in Lanark, in eastern Ontario. His academic ambition was strong enough to encourage him to take ba degrees in 1904 at both Queen{apos}s College in Kingston and Trinity (ad eundem).

In late 1905 Struthers moved to Toronto, where he and Jennie settled at 558 Bathurst Street. Tragically his wife died in 1909 and in 1916 their son would succumb to lockjaw, contracted after he cut his finger while gathering eggs at his uncle{apos}s Bayfield farm. In 1910 Toronto{apos}s Board of Education instigated medical inspections in schools under the direction of its reformist chief inspector, James Laughlin Hughes*. The overseers of this innovative program, Dr William Belfry Hendry and Dr Helen MacMurchy*, soon resigned over a dispute with Hughes concerning the board{apos}s jurisdiction in public health matters. Struthers succeeded them as chief medical inspector in January 1911, thus launching his career in the period{apos}s burgeoning public health movement. He immediately took charge of 18 inspectors, 25 nurses, and a dental inspector [see John Gennings Curtis Adams].

Struthers{apos}s appointment also ushered in a new phase in his private life: he met Lina Rogers, the superintendent of the nurses. She had pioneered acclaimed systems of school nursing in New York City and Pueblo, Colo., and in 1910 had accepted an invitation from John Ross Robertson*, chair of the Hospital for Sick Children, to replicate her efforts in Toronto. Because of her professional relationship to Struthers and wider notions about the impropriety of married women{apos}s employment, she resigned on 30 June 1913 to become his wife. The wedding, at High Park Presbyterian Church on 9 July, reportedly caused a sensation since Rogers was {d-0}one of the best-known nurses on the continent.{d-1} The couple shared a commitment to health education and inspection in schools – William Struthers was an early proponent of teaching sex hygiene – and they gave public addresses and published articles in such journals as Canadian Nurse and Hospital Review, which Rogers edited for a time, and Public Health Journal.

After moving into Struthers{apos}s home on Bathurst Street, the newly-weds joined College Street Presbyterian Church. Struthers was prominent in local masonic circles, as a member and sometime master of St Andrew{apos}s Lodge, and he belonged to the Oddfellows. Shortly after the beginning of World War I in August 1914, he joined the militia{apos}s medical services. In March 1916 he enlisted as a captain in the Canadian Army Medical Corps; he served overseas in 1917–18. While her husband was in the army, Lina boldly opposed the move in 1916 to transfer the school board{apos}s medical work to the city{apos}s health department and her comprehensive text, The school nurse, was published in New York the following year.

In May 1914 the government of Sir James Pliny Whitney* in Ontario had passed the workmen{apos}s compensation act, the first Canadian legislation premised on the understanding that recompense for injury should not be contingent on the worker{apos}s responsibility. On 14 December, Struthers was appointed first chief medical officer of the Workmen{apos}s Compensation Board. Although this position appears to have required less involvement than his work with the school board, he continued to uphold the critical importance of health education and stressed its value to both the worker and the employer in the prevention of accidents and illness. He would remain in the post until his death at Wellesley Hospital in 1928 from {d-0}internal troubles{d-1} and influenza. A funeral service at his home was followed by a masonic burial in Mount Pleasant Cemetery. The Toronto Daily Star noted that {d-0}the doctor was held in such high esteem{d-1} that Mrs Struthers{apos}s request for no floral tributes went unheeded.

Although overshadowed professionally by his second wife, Struthers had been a pioneering figure in the public health and welfare agencies of early-20th-century Ontario. Under his direction, the medical inspection program of the Board of Education came to be one of the world{apos}s most comprehensive, serving 45,000 children within a year of his appointment, and most widely imitated. Similarly, the Workman{apos}s Compensation Board served as a prototype for other such agencies throughout North America [see James Leonard Sugrue]. Struthers{apos}s appointments to these agencies signified a key role for health-care professionals in the evolving modern state.

William Eugene Struthers is the author of {d-0}Medical inspection of schools in Toronto,{d-1} Public Health Journal (Toronto), 5 (1914): 67–78.

AO, RG 80-5-0-309, no.2372; RG 80-8-0-362, no.6035. LAC, RG 31, C1, 1901, Lanark (village), Ont.: 8 (mfm. at AO); RG 150, Acc. 1992–93/166, box 9392-16. Mount Pleasant Cemetery (Toronto), Tombstone inscription. QUA, Dept. of alumni affairs fonds; Registrar{apos}s Office fonds, student registers (mfm.). Toronto Dist. School Board, Museum and Arch. Dept., Toronto Board of Education, Hist. Coll., Board minutes, January 1911, June 1913; Management committee, minute-book, 14 April 1910; Vert. files, biog., L. L. Rogers; W. E. Struthers. UTA, A1973-0026/452(63, 67). Globe, 1 July 1903, 21 April 1928. Toronto Daily Star, 9, 16 Dec. 1905; 9 July, 4 Oct. 1913; 24 March 1914; 11 Aug. 1916; 20, 23 April 1928; 11 June 1946. Canadian annual rev., 1914–16, 1927–28. Dianne Dodd, {d-0}Helen MacMurchy, md: gender and professional conflict in the medical inspection of Toronto schools, 1910–1911,{d-1} OH, 93 (2001): 127–49. Heather MacDougall, Activists and advocates: Toronto{apos}s health department, 1883–1983 (Toronto, 1990). Ont., Workmen{apos}s Compensation Board, Annual report, 1914–29. Ontario medical register (Toronto), 1901. L. [L.] Rogers Struthers, {d-0}Nursing side of medical inspection of schools,{d-1} Public Health Journal, 4 (1913): 147–48. James Struthers, The limits of affluence: welfare in Ontario, 1920–1970 (Toronto, 1994). Neil Sutherland, Children in English-Canadian society: framing the twentieth-century consensus (Toronto, 1976). Toronto Board of Education, Annual report, 1911, 1912 ({d-0}Medical inspector{apos}s reports{d-1}).

James L. Sugrue grew up in the Irish working-class environment of west end Saint John. His mother was the daughter of immigrants from County Cork (Republic of Ireland); in 1877 she married James R. Sugrue, an immigrant from Kerry. The latter had become a teacher in the 1860s and taught at St Malachi{apos}s School for several decades; {d-0}a kindly, amiable man of high ideals and exemplary life,{d-1} the older Sugrue {d-0}had the gift of imparting knowledge and of teaching his boys how to study and progress.{d-1} Their children included four daughters, one of whom became a teacher and another a stenographer and bookkeeper, and two sons, both of whom entered the city{apos}s building trades.

As a young worker in the early years of the century, Sugrue boarded at the family home, now located in the south end. He married Estella Newman in 1908 and they remained lifelong residents of Saint John. Sugrue{apos}s elder brother, John, became an officer of the local Bricklayers{s-1-unknown} and Masons{s-1-unknown} Union during this period, and James himself began to attract attention among the carpenters. With a long history of independent organization in the 19th century, the Saint John carpenters had joined the American Federation of Labor in October 1901, as Local 919 of the United Brotherhood of Carpenters and Joiners of America. In 1910 Sugrue became financial secretary (and in 1913 business agent) of the local as well as secretary-treasurer of the new Building Trades Council. Before he was 30 Sugrue had also been elected president of the Saint John Trades and Labor Council. Two years later, in 1914, {d-0}Jimmie{d-1} Sugrue ran as a labour candidate for city commissioner, winning a substantial increase in the labour vote.

Sugrue{apos}s rise to prominence as a local union leader coincided with an upsurge in labour activism in Saint John. The carpenters raised their wages to $3 a day in 1911 and in 1913 were the first in their trade in the Maritimes to inaugurate the eight-hour day. Later that year the Labour Day celebrations featured {d-0}the most successful labour parade in many years.{d-1} The extension of unionism to unorganized workers proved more difficult. In 1913 a lock-out of more than 1,000 men at the city{apos}s lumber mills lasted from June to September and ended without wage increases or union recognition. The following year the street railway workers also faced employers unwilling to countenance unions. The workers secured a conciliation board under the Industrial Disputes Investigation Act of 1907, naming Sugrue as their representative; he was able to persuade the board to call for recognition of the union and re-employment of its dismissed president, Fred Ramsey. When the company failed to agree, the workers went on strike in July 1914 and shut down public transportation for two days. Thousands of supporters rioted in the streets, overturning streetcars and attacking power installations, before a settlement was reached. For Sugrue, such events demonstrated that the cause of labour was important to the whole community in a major industrial centre such as Saint John. As he had explained in 1912, {d-0}In the long run we hope to so improve conditions here that the people won{apos}t leave for the west in search of better wages and shorter hours of labor.{d-1} At the same time, he did not hesitate to call for more assistance from the international unions, reminding organizers that {d-0}Montreal is not the eastern extremity of Canada, despite the fact that some of our international executive officers seem to think so.{d-1} By 1914 Sugrue had succeeded in persuading the Trades and Labor Congress of Canada to hold its annual convention in New Brunswick for the first time.

One of Sugrue{apos}s lasting contributions was the organization of a provincial federation of labour, which took place at a time when only British Columbia (1910) and Alberta (1912) had established such bodies. Efforts initiated by the Saint John Trades and Labor Council resulted in a preliminary meeting in September 1912 (which Sugrue did not attend), but the future of the federation was not assured until a more representative gathering took place a year later involving delegates from Saint John, Moncton, Fredericton, and Sackville. In the interim Sugrue had played a leading part in keeping the idea alive; in 1913 he was especially disappointed with the Fair Wage Schedule Act, for which he had lobbied on behalf of the council, and in the pages of the Eastern Labor News he argued that the legislative influence of labour could be applied more effectively through a provincial federation. At the organizational meeting on 16 Sept. 1913 Sugrue was elected president of the new federation; he and two other delegates were instructed to prepare a constitution and seek a charter from the TLCC. The first full convention of the New Brunswick Federation of Labor took place in Saint John on 20 Jan. 1914, with about 50 delegates in attendance. Sugrue was elected president, along with Frank Lister, Fredericton, as vice-president and Percy Douglas Ayer, Moncton, as secretary-treasurer. Within the year the federation reported 26 affiliated unions with a membership of 3,000 workers.

With Sugrue as its legislative representative, the federation pursued numerous objectives in Fredericton, including women{apos}s suffrage. Increasingly, attention focused on workers{s-1-unknown} compensation laws, a subject of marked concern to unionized employees on the docks and railways in Saint John and Moncton. The existing Workmen{apos}s Compensation for Injuries Act (1903) required workers to go to court to establish employers{s-1-unknown} liability for workplace accidents; awards were limited to a maximum of $1,500. Despite the election of labour-supported candidates such as Warren Franklin Hatheway in 1908, amendments failed to live up to expectations. More advanced legislation adopted by Ontario in 1914 – and in three other provinces in 1915 and 1916 – introduced state-sponsored no-fault insurance programs, backed by mandatory payroll assessments and with benefits administered by a compensation board. Sugrue lobbied provincial politicians for similar legislation, and in 1917 he and Frederick W. Daley of the longshoremen{apos}s union were appointed (by a Conservative government) to a royal commission which held hearings throughout the province and reported in favour of a new compensation law. When the bill was introduced (by a Liberal government), labour unions rallied to support it against the opposition of employers. The resulting Workmen{apos}s Compensation Act (1918) was considered exemplary progressive legislation at the time, although farmers, fishermen, domestic servants, and workers in the woods were excluded from coverage, and benefits in any claim were limited to a maximum of $3,500. Sugrue himself accepted a salaried position as one of three board members. In its first year of operation, 1919, the board completed consideration of 1,733 claims and approved compensation and pensions amounting to more than $100,000, numbers which increased substantially during the next ten years. Sugrue continued to serve on the board until his death in 1930 at 46 years of age. An apparent heart attack had forced him to reduce activities during the last two years of his life. His widow, who in 1923 had been appointed to a commission of inquiry into mothers{s-1-unknown} pensions and minimum wages, survived him by 40 years.

The death of Sugrue at such an early age was considered a heavy loss both to organized labour and to provincial society. Described as {d-0}not only an able executive but an excellent speaker and a man of ideas,{d-1} he was remembered as well for his {d-0}kindly disposition.{d-1} Union members in Saint John recalled his occasional musical recitations at labour meetings; a union gathering in his honour featured a variety of musical numbers. Sugrue{apos}s respectability was underlined by his participation in the Knights of Columbus, the Children{apos}s Aid Society, and other charities; the New Freeman eulogized him as {d-0}a man who had given freely of his time in all movements for the betterment of the community.{d-1} In a city with a long history of labour organization in the 19th century, Sugrue promoted the extension of unionization to new groups of workers and collaboration around causes of common concern. While encouraging the transition from occupational loyalty to broader forms of labour solidarity, he remained a consistent supporter of the TLCC and the AFL. As a union leader who became a member of the province{apos}s early labour bureaucracy, Sugrue was a pragmatist who believed in mobilizing labour{apos}s influence within the existing political and economic structures; his success lends support to the theme of progressivism in the political history of the Maritime provinces. In promoting the recognition of unions and the enactment of reforms, Sugrue assisted New Brunswick workers and provincial society generally in establishing the regime of industrial legality and social legislation that came to characterize the 20th century.

Arch. of the Diocese of Saint John, RBMB. PANB, RS6; RS141C5, F18983, no.080270; RS260/D. Eastern Labor News (Moncton, N.B.), 1909–13. Evening Times-Globe (Saint John), 24, 26 June 1930; 24 Jan. 1931. New Freeman (Saint John), 28 June 1930, 31 Jan. 1931. St. John Standard, 29–30 March, 5 April 1912; 2 Sept. 1913; 21 Jan., 15 April 1914. Telegraph-Journal (Saint John), 25, 27 June 1930. R. H. Babcock, {d-0}Blood on the factory floor: the workers{s-1-unknown} compensation movement in Canada and the United States,{d-1} in Social welfare policy in Canada: historical readings, ed. R. B. Blake and Jeff Keshen (Toronto, 1995), 107–21; {d-0}Saint John longshoremen during the rise of Canada{apos}s winter port, 1895–1922,{d-1} Labour (St John{apos}s), 25 (1990): 15–46; {d-0}The Saint John street railwaymen{apos}s strike and riot, 1914,{d-1} Acadiensis (Fredericton), 11 (1981–82), no.2: 3–27. Labour Gazette (Ottawa), 1 (1900–1)–30 (1930). Ian McKay, {d-0}Strikes in the Maritimes, 1901–1914,{d-1} in Labour and working-class history in Atlantic Canada: a reader, ed. David Frank and G. S. Kealey (St John{apos}s, 1995), 190–232. G. R. Melvin, History of New Brunswick Federation of Labour, 1914–1933 (n.p., n.d.). N.B., Acts, 1903–30; Workmen{apos}s Compensation Board, Annual report (Saint John), 1919–30. {d-0}Obituary,{d-1} Canadian Congress Journal (Ottawa), 9 (1930), no.7: 29. Report of proceedings at a conference concerning Workmen{apos}s Compensation Act, held at St. John on Thursday and Friday 10th and 11th January, 1924 (n.p., 1924). W. Y. Smith, {d-0}Axis of administration: Saint John reformers and bureaucratic centralization in New Brunswick, 1911–1925{d-1} (ma thesis, Univ. of N.B., Fredericton, 1984). Trades and Labor Congress of Canada, Report of the proc. of the annual convention ([Ottawa]), 18 (1902)–34 (1918).

In 1849 Hugh Sutherland{apos}s family moved to Oxford County, Upper Canada, and he attended school there. Afterwards, he worked as a bookkeeper in Ingersoll for lumberman and Liberal politician Adam Oliver*. In 1867, with Oliver and William Cairns Bell, he became a partner in Adam Oliver Company. The following year the company established a planing mill and lumberyard in Orillia. Although the mill and yard were destroyed by fire in 1871 and the partnership was dissolved, Sutherland continued in the lumber business in Orillia; by 1875 he owned a sawmill there.

Sutherland{apos}s term in government service gave him incomparable insights into the rich resources of the west and the transportation facilities needed to exploit and develop them. In 1878 he settled permanently in Winnipeg. He became an exceptionally enthusiastic promoter of western Canada and in the early 1880s participated in the formation of several mining, land, and navigation companies. His most spectacular, but brief, successes came in the lumber business. The phenomenal boom associated with the early construction of the Canadian Pacific Railway created an enormous demand for lumber in Winnipeg in 1881 and 1882. Sutherland obtained numerous timber leases and then built what was allegedly the first large sawmill (with a capacity of 40,000 board feet per day) in Winnipeg and another at Rat Portage (Kenora, Ont.). At the peak of his operations in 1882 he employed 300 men and had recently obtained a timber limit for 64,000 acres of choice pine timber. The collapse of the Winnipeg real estate and housing boom in 1883 severely curtailed his timber operations, however. In 1882, at the height of his business career, he had been elected to the House of Commons for the riding of Selkirk, defeating Stewart Mulvey*, but he lost his bid for re-election to William Bain Scarth* in 1887, when his business affairs were in serious disarray. In parliament he had been an enthusiastic advocate of Manitoba and western Canadian interests, frequently denouncing federal policies which he thought retarded western development.

In the early 1880s Sutherland had also been a promoter of several railway projects. The first was the Manitoba South-Western Colonization Railway, incorporated in 1879, whose objectives were twofold. The early plans of the CPR were to build through Selkirk, bypassing Winnipeg. The Manitoba South-Western, with possible connections to the Northern Pacific Railroad in the United States, was designed to protect Winnipeg{apos}s interests. Its second goal was the development of the Souris coalfields, which had allegedly been discovered by Sutherland. The Manitoba South-Western fulfilled both of these objectives when the CPR acquired it in 1884, re-routed the CPR main line through Winnipeg, and assisted in the development of the coalfields.

Sutherland{apos}s second railway scheme involved the building of a line from Winnipeg northward to a port on Hudson Bay. Under his tutelage the Winnipeg and Hudson{apos}s Bay Railway and Steamship Company was incorporated in 1880, but it faced immediate competition with the Nelson Valley Railway and Transportation Company, which was also incorporated that year. After some wrangling the two companies were amalgamated in 1883 under Sutherland{apos}s leadership. The first 40 miles of the proposed railway was built in 1886, but a financial scandal involving provincial treasurer Alphonse-Alfred-Clément La Rivière halted construction before the contractors could be paid.

When prospects of federal aid improved in the 1890s, Donald Mann*, one of the contractors who had built the first 40 miles, used his unsatisfied claims to gain control of the railway. Mann, in partnership with William Mackenzie, then changed the route and amalgamated the line with others to form the Canadian Northern Railway in December 1898. The loss of his railway marked the end of Sutherland{apos}s career as an independent railway promoter. The best he could do, and that only after some hard infighting, was to secure appointment as the Canadian Northern{apos}s agent at Winnipeg. Later, he served in other firms controlled by Mackenzie and Mann, as president of the Rainy River Lumber Company (a company he had founded), the Canadian Northern Coal and Ore Dock Company, and the Canadian Northern Prairie Lands Company, and as a director and promoter of several others.

When the financial and railway projects of Mackenzie and Mann collapsed in 1918, Sutherland retired to England. He died there in 1926. He had been actively connected with the development of the Canadian west over a period of more than 40 years. Many of his business ventures prospered, but he failed in the greatest effort of his life, the building of a railway to Hudson Bay. He is, nevertheless, regarded as {d-0}the father of the Hudson Bay route.{d-1} The project was completed only after his death and has been repeatedly threatened with abandonment, but it is still capable of provoking intense political reaction from true believers.

AO, RG 80-27-2, 1: 150. Man., Dept. of Finance, Consumer and Corporate Affairs, Vital statistics (Winnipeg), no.1921-034353. Manitoba Free Press, 16 Aug. 1926. Canadian directory of parl. (Johnson). Canadian men and women of the time (Morgan; 1912). CPG, 1875, 1883, 1887. George Emery, {d-0}Adam Oliver, Ingersoll and Thunder Bay district, 1850–82,{d-1} OH, 68 (1976): 25–43. H. A. Fleming, Canada{apos}s Arctic outlet: a history of the Hudson Bay Railway (Berkeley, Calif., 1957; repr. Westport, Conn., 1978). T. D. Regehr, The Canadian Northern Railway, pioneer road of the northern prairies, 1895–1918 (Toronto, 1976). G. R. Stevens, Canadian National Railways (2v., Toronto and Vancouver, 1960–62).

Of Scottish-Irish parentage, Robert F. Sutherland moved to Windsor when he was 14 and resided with his sister, wife of the pastor of St Andrew{apos}s Presbyterian Church. He studied at the Western University of London and the University of Toronto, and was called to the Ontario bar in Easter term 1886, in which year he became a member of the law firm of Cameron and Cleary in Windsor. Appointed a qc in 1898, by 1905 he would be the senior member of Sutherland, Kenning, and Cleary. Besides conducting an extensive court practice, he was active on the city council, the library board, and the cricket field. In his spare time, perhaps with an eye to broader political involvement, he learned to speak French.

When Prime Minister Sir Wilfrid Laurier* visited Windsor on his electoral campaign tour of 1900, the first speaker to welcome him was Sutherland. Only ten days before, he had received the Liberal nomination for Essex North, which had been held by the Liberals since 1891 and which included Windsor, the adjoining border towns, and the rural, mostly French Catholic north half of the county. In addition to lauding Laurier, Sutherland emphasized that, if elected, he would respect all creeds and nationalities. This impartiality became especially important as the campaign wore on. His opponents tarred him with being anti-Catholic and a one-time member of the Protestant Protective Association. He angrily responded that, though a Presbyterian, he had always acted with fairness towards Catholics. While a member of Windsor{apos}s council and chairman of its finance committee, he had recommended that the Catholic hospital, the Hôtel Dieu, be excused from paying water rates. For this stand he had been condemned, in his words, as {d-0}a half Catholic and a poor Protestant.{d-1} He further maintained that his refusal to join the PPA had once cost him the mayoralty. Though the association was now defunct, he had reason to worry about the charges against him: in 1900 French-speaking Catholics could sway the election. In the end he easily defeated Solomon White*. His success, and that of Mahlon K. Cowan in Essex South, confirmed that the Liberals, as a coalition of urban Protestants and rural Catholics, could form an enduring political structure in Essex County.

One of the least voluble members of Laurier{apos}s government, Sutherland worked diligently to build up his local support. He consulted with Laurier on regional appointments to the Senate. In 1905 he asked the prime minister to back the local bid to have the United States Steel Corporation build a massive plant near Windsor, but Laurier responded that no favouritism could be shown to a particular manufacturer. In parliament Sutherland had the Railway Act amended in 1903 to require railways to drain their properties – a concern in low-lying Essex – and to mount {d-0}suitable{d-1} cattle guards. His amendments also removed the legal defences used by railways to avoid claims and made them liable for cattle killed by trains. Though he gained popularity among farmers, he did not inspire urban voters. In his only lengthy speech in the House of Commons, in 1902, he had praised the {d-0}incidental protection{d-1} provided by the government{apos}s tariff policies, which, he claimed, were responsible for the industrial growth of the Windsor area. Voters there were not impressed. In the election of November 1904 he lost the city but was re-elected thanks to his rural support.

When the commons convened in January 1905 Sutherland was named speaker. Though his accomplishments were slight, the Windsor Evening Record believed {d-0}his parliamentary experience brought him many friends and few enemies.{d-1} Moreover, he kept his local contacts strong. In August, for instance, he advised Windsor{apos}s council that the Detroit–Windsor ferry was attempting to renew its licence on terms that favoured the service. Duly warned, the municipality petitioned Ottawa to make sure that the company paid a fee and lowered its rates. After his re-election in 1908, Sutherland declined another term as speaker. On 21 Oct. 1909 he was appointed a puisne judge in the High Court division of the Supreme Court of Ontario.

Sutherland{apos}s largely undistinguished career on the bench was punctuated by occasional speaking engagements and cases that attracted mild attention. In 1919, in a referral that hinged on the definition of {d-0}public place,{d-1} he upheld a Toronto magistrate{apos}s decision, under the War Measures Act, to fine a workman who had said of the war effort that {d-0}the British Parliament was bleeding Canada dry; that King George was just as bad as the Kaiser.{d-1}

In 1917 the quiet judge had been drawn into the complex, and very political, field of hydroelectric regulation, as a member of the commission set up to determine the amount and price of power to be supplied by the Electrical Development Company of Ontario Limited to the provincial Hydro-Electric Power Commission. The formation of a government by the United Farmers of Ontario in 1919 set the stage for confrontation between Premier Ernest Charles Drury* and the dynamic chairman of Hydro, Sir Adam Beck, over responsibility for the extravagant escalations in its funding and works. To consume its surplus power, it had been planning a system of hydroelectric radial railways. In an effort to neutralize Beck{apos}s pressure, in July 1920 Drury appointed a royal commission under Sutherland{apos}s chairmanship to examine the project{apos}s feasibility.

A year later, in a majority report based on American experience and post-war financial conditions in Ontario, the commission came down against hydro-radials, which, it concluded, would require continual government funding. Moreover, they would compete with the publicly owned Canadian National Railways, their cost could not be justified until an expensive power station at Queenston had been completed and proved to be self-supporting, and with motor vehicles on the rise the government had already embarked on a major road-building program. The commission therefore opposed any provincial guarantees for municipalities seeking to finance hydro-radials. Drury was predictably pleased, but radial advocates in urban centres were incensed. Though the report recommended a municipally controlled system for Toronto, neither its mayor, Thomas Langton Church*, nor York County warden Len Wallace was appeased. Church lambasted Sutherland{apos}s commission as a {d-0}frame-up.{d-1}

In May 1922, nine months after rendering this controversial report, Sutherland died at his home on Chestnut Park Road in Toronto. His commission{apos}s findings, however, continued to receive scrutiny as the radial issue played itself out. A last-ditch scheme devised by Beck for joint control in Toronto was defeated in the municipal election of January 1923. The following year a second commission appointed by Drury to curb Hydro, headed by Walter Dymond Gregory, substantiated Sutherland{apos}s conclusions. Later experience proved that hydro-radials would have been an economic disaster. Even one of their supporters, William Rothwell Plewman, a Toronto alderman, eventually conceded that Sutherland{apos}s commission had been right.

Herbert Symonds was educated at Framlingham College in England and, after arriving in Canada in 1881, at Trinity College, Toronto (ba 1886, ma 1887). He also took a postgraduate course in theology at the University of Cambridge. During this period he came under the influence of the Broad Church school of Anglicanism (favouring a liberal interpretation of doctrine) and looked to the writings of such figures as Frederick Denison Maurice and Charles Kingsley of England and Phillips Brooks of the United States for inspiration. He was ordained deacon in 1885 and priest on 6 March 1887 by Arthur Sweatman*, bishop of Toronto. In 1887 he became a fellow of Trinity College and a lecturer there and three years later he was appointed professor of divinity. His Broad Church views accorded ill with the traditional Tractarianism of the college. He upheld the comprehensiveness of Anglicanism and advocated the legitimacy of doctrinal restatement and the adjustment of forms of worship in accordance with the perceived needs of modern discovery. In 1892 he accepted the parish of St Luke, Ashburnham (Peterborough), and in 1901 he was named headmaster of Trinity College School, a prestigious boys{s-1-unknown} school in Port Hope.

Symonds was widely sought after as a speaker in Montreal, elsewhere in English-speaking Quebec and Ontario, and in the United States. He was also actively involved in educational and civic affairs in Montreal. He served as president of the Protestant Board of School Commissioners of the City of Montreal from 1907 to 1912 and was associated with various charitable organizations. He received two honorary degrees, a dd from Queen{apos}s College, Kingston, in 1901 and an lld from McGill University, Montreal, in 1912. In 1918 he helped organize and acted as chairman of the Committee of Sixteen, which sought to combat organized prostitution in Montreal.

Symonds{apos}s modernist or Broad Church theology found expression in two particular areas: doctrinal reformulation and inter-church relations. His attempts to rethink the formularies of the Church, and in particular the Nicene and Apostles{s-1-unknown} creeds, became the focus of endless controversy. He insisted that the teaching of Jesus had to be expressed anew in every age in order to address contemporary concerns and that the traditional formulations should not bind modern thinking. Although his position had wide-reaching implications, attention focused on what was perceived as Symonds{apos}s denial of the doctrine of the virgin birth. His views on the matter are not in fact entirely clear, but the controversy that they provoked would prompt demands in 1919 that he be tried for heresy.

Symonds{apos}s theological position on inter-church relations is succinctly set out in his Lent letter of 1918, addressed to the congregation of Christ Church. He was then in England visiting the Canadian Expeditionary Force. In this letter he outlined {d-0}the main heads of the religious, theological and ecclesiastical needs of our time.{d-1} He made an {d-0}earnest plea for a larger fellowship between Christian people{d-1} and felt that {d-0}ministers of other Churches than our own should be admitted to our pulpits, and that members of other Churches should be welcomed to our altars.{d-1} {d-0}We must realize,{d-1} he stated, {d-0}that our agreements are far more important than our differences.{d-1} The letter claimed that his experiences with the army had been central in the formulation of these points, but in fact they were a distillation of views that he had held since the 1890s.

The subject of inter-church relations and union had attracted Symonds early in his career and it was to be one of his major preoccupations. In 1899 he published Lectures on Christian unity, the first of many writings on the subject. In 1909 he reluctantly agreed to Bishop Farthing{apos}s request that he not publicly invite non-Anglicans to receive communion at the Christmas and Easter services in the cathedral. Farthing refused to attend the services if he did so. Symonds was among a small group of Anglicans who in 1912 presented a memorial to the Canadian house of bishops requesting that Anglican pulpits and altars be opened to non-Anglicans. In 1913 Symonds accepted an invitation to preach at St Giles Presbyterian Church in Montreal. The ensuing furore included an admonition from Farthing and demands that Symonds be tried in a church court. Farthing refused to allow such a trial. The incident was only one of many during his ministry in Montreal. In 1920 there was renewed concern when Symonds attended a service of the Unitarian Church of the Messiah in Montreal. Although Symonds{apos}s stand was unacceptable to many Montreal and Canadian Anglicans, it did foreshadow the greater openness of the position adopted by the Lambeth conference of 1920 in its {d-0}Appeal to all Christian people,{d-1} which set forth the Anglican desire for church reunion.

Symonds{apos}s actions were practical applications of his view that all English-speaking Protestants were essentially one in faith and that the differences among them were of minor importance. He denied the doctrine of the apostolic succession held by many Anglicans and favoured a federation of Canadian churches. Symonds{apos}s position was unusual for most Anglicans and must be seen against the background of the negotiations then in progress that led to the formation of the United Church of Canada in 1925.

Herbert Symonds wrote the articles {d-0}Church unity{d-1} and {d-0}The idea of progress{d-1} in the Canadian Churchman (Toronto), 2 and 9 Nov. 1916 and 19 July 1917, respectively. His publications also include: Trinity University and university federation: an essay addressed to the council of Trinity University and the members of convocation ([Peterborough, Ont.], 1894); Lectures on Christian unity (Toronto, 1899); The Anglican Church and the doctrine of apostolic succession (Montreal, 1907); The Broad Church: a sermon preached in Christ Church Cathedral, Montreal, December 30th, 1906 (Montreal, 1907); Religion after the war: a sermon-lecture (Montreal, 1916); Lent letter (n.p., [1918]); and A spiritual forward movement: an open letter to Rev. Dr. Fraser, principal of the Presbyterian College, Montr[e]al, which was written sometime between 1918 and his death and likely published in Montreal.

Anglican Church of Canada, Diocese of Montreal Arch., Clergy files, Herbert Symonds; Episcopal journals, James Carmichael, 1907; J. C. Farthing, 1909, 1911, 1913, 1915, 1919–20. Committee of Sixteen, Preliminary report . . . ([Montreal], 1918); Some facts regarding toleration, regulation, segregation and repression of commercialized vice (Montreal, 1919). J. C. Farthing, Recollections of the Right Rev. John Cragg Farthing, bishop of Montreal, 1909–1939 ([Montreal, 1946?]). Herbert Symonds: a memoir (Montreal, 1921). {d-0}The late Rev. Herbert Symonds, d.d., ll.d.,{d-1} Montreal Churchman, 9, no.8 (June 1921): 11.

TAIT, JAMES SINCLAIR, physician, politician, office holder, and author; b. 4 March 1849 in Wallace, N.S., son of James Tait and Catherine Sinclair; m. 19 Dec. 1882 Sarah Elizabeth Calkin in St John{apos}s, and they had three sons and two daughters, one of whom died in infancy; d. there 5 July 1928.

Tait had found his vocation. In 1879 he entered medical school at the University of Pennsylvania and he graduated three years later with a first-class honours md. He returned to Brigus, where he practised until 1885, when he went to Britain to continue his studies. The following year he was licensed by the Royal College of Physicians (London) and the Royal College of Surgeons (Edinburgh). When he returned in 1886, he set up practice in St John{apos}s.

It was not long before Tait entered the political arena. In the general election of 1889 he was returned to the House of Assembly as a Liberal in support of Sir William Vallance Whiteway*, in the two-member district of Burin on the south coast. Tait had no previous connection with the area, but parachuting St John{apos}s–based candidates into rural districts was common in 19th-century Newfoundland. In 1893 he spearheaded the passage of a bill to regulate the practice of medicine and surgery. The first legislation of its kind in the colony, it led to the establishment of a seven-member medical board [see William Munden Allan*]. Tait was re-elected in the contest of 1893, which was quite acrimonious, even by Newfoundland standards. On 6 Jan. 1894, the last possible day for challenges under the Corrupt Practices Act, the Conservatives brought charges of bribery and corruption against 15 of the successful Liberals, including Tait, and against independent member James Murray. Each was found guilty and forced to relinquish his seat, and all except one were barred from future political office. This last penalty was removed by statute the following year, enabling Tait to make an unsuccessful bid to return to the assembly in 1897.

Although Tait{apos}s conviction brought his career as an assemblyman to a close, it did not end his partisan involvement. He was the recipient of several patronage appointments, including posts as secretary and registrar of the Newfoundland Medical Board (1894–1909) and membership on the St John{apos}s Board of Health (1904–9). As well, he was a public health officer and a visiting surgeon and physician at the St John{apos}s General Hospital. His most lucrative appointment was as medical superintendent (1895–97, 1900–7) and resident physician (1902–7) at the Hospital for the Insane in Waterford (St John{apos}s).

Tait{apos}s first formal involvement with this hospital, which was known as the Newfoundland Asylum until 1899, had occurred in 1890 when he was appointed to a commission of inquiry into its operation under resident physician Henry Hunt Stabb*. Three years later he was made a visiting physician to the hospital. Although he was soon replaced after the Conservatives became the governing party in April 1894, within weeks of the Liberals{s-1-unknown} return to power in December he was named attendant, or non-resident, physician, a position he had actively pursued. In a letter dated 21 Dec. 1893 to Newfoundland{apos}s colonial secretary, Robert Bond, he had sought the appointment at a minimum fixed yearly stipend of $3,000 (the annual salary paid to such professionals as magistrates, teachers, and clergy at the time averaged much less than $1,000). Tait now secured the position but not the salary. With his elevation to the position of medical superintendent on 25 March 1895, however, his emolument was set at $2,000 plus contributions towards his household expenses, which made him one of the highest paid officials on the government{apos}s payroll. The construction of an imposing superintendent{apos}s residence, on land adjacent to the asylum that had been purchased from Tait during 1896–97, increased his dependence on the public purse and made his position even more lucrative.

Tait{apos}s appointment was denounced by Governor Sir John Terence Nicholls O{apos}Brien*, who, in a letter to the British colonial secretary, cited Tait{apos}s recent expulsion from the Medical Society of St John{apos}s on grounds of unprofessional conduct as sufficient reason to rescind it. (This expulsion, believed to have been in response to Tait{apos}s conviction under the Corrupt Practices Act, apparently did not affect his subsequent practice of medicine.) O{apos}Brien{apos}s objection had no influence on the governing party. Tait carried out his duties as superintendent until September 1897, when he resigned to become a candidate in that fall{apos}s election. The Conservative{apos}s victory prevented the defeated Tait from regaining his position at the asylum, which went to Dr Lawrence Edward Keegan, but it did not end his association with the institution. The Liberals were returned to office in 1900 and shortly thereafter the new premier, Bond, reappointed Tait as medical superintendent.

His approach to treatment was guided by his conviction that mental illness was mainly the result of inherited factors, a belief that had gained much credibility in late-19th-century psychiatric pathology. He held little hope for the recovery of most patients; in 1895 he had argued that their incarceration in the asylum was rapidly turning it into {d-0}a Home for Incurables rather than a Hospital for the care and cure of the Insane.{d-1} He advocated that alternative accommodation be found for them and was not averse to transferring them to the local poorhouse. Unlike Keegan, who had implemented an aggressive program of work, Tait believed that this type of occupational therapy was ineffective and fiscally unsound and he cancelled many of Keegan{apos}s initiatives when he replaced him in 1900. However, he gradually changed his opinion, acknowledging that some patients did benefit, but he limited work programs to those classified as able-bodied – seldom more than a third of the residents. Tait exercised frugality in the administration of sedatives and the use of physical restraints was common during his superintendence.

Tait{apos}s personal and professional conduct was called into question in May 1902 when Miss M. E. Scott, the asylum{apos}s matron, made several accusations against him, the most serious of which was causing the death of a patient through lethal injection. He was cleared of any wrongdoing, but when a second inquiry, in 1907 in response to allegations that he was involved in a sexual relationship with one of the female staff, recommended his removal, he submitted his resignation.

Tait had maintained his private practice during his incumbency at the Hospital for the Insane and he now returned to it, though in his later years he would confine himself to consultative work. He had kept abreast of advancements in medicine, studying in Edinburgh, Glasgow, and London, and he received various accreditations, certificates, and licences. In 1896 he was named a fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons (Edinburgh), at the time the only person in Newfoundland with this designation. A writer of some note, he contributed medical articles, essays, and patriotic poems to such local periodicals as the Newfoundland Quarterly and the Cadet; his pamphlet entitled Tuberculosis was published in St John{apos}s in 1902. He was elected to the city{apos}s municipal council in 1916 and served until 1920. A Methodist and then a member of the United Church of Canada, he died in 1928.

In addition to her role as a homemaker and mother, Tait{apos}s wife, who died in 1925, was devoted to community and church work, especially in support of the missionary efforts of Gower Street Methodist Church. Their daughter, Mary Elsinore (Elsie), was a talented musician and holds the distinction of being the first recipient of a degree in music from Mount Allison. She was also a graduate of the Toronto Conservatory of Music and was organist at Gower Street Church for many years. Two sons, Archibald Campbell and Harold Sinclair, followed their father into medicine, while the third, Robert Holland*, opted for a career in law and positions with Newfoundland{apos}s information bureaus in the United States. All three served with distinction in World War I, Archibald and Harold with the Royal Army Medical Corps and Robert with the Newfoundland Regiment.

J. Sinclair Tait, in the estimation of historian Patricia O{apos}Brien, {d-0}seems to have been a man of small imagination and even smaller humanitarian impulse,{d-1} particularly in his years as medical superintendent at the Hospital for the Insane. His opposition to innovative therapies and his reliance on antiquated methods reduced his effectiveness as the hospital{apos}s administrator and primary caregiver. His removal as superintendent was a direct result of his own misconduct. Yet, his continuing quest for medical knowledge and his large and successful private practice indicate that he was dedicated to his profession and enjoyed the confidence of his patients. He made the most of his term in the assembly by persuading the government to bring structure to the practice of medicine in Newfoundland. As secretary and registrar of the Medical Board for its first 15 years, he was able to ensure that it became the regulating body he had intended.

In addition to his pamphlet, Tuberculosis, James Sinclair Tait wrote {d-0}Allan Lee,{d-1} a ballad that was published in Songs of Newfoundland (St John{apos}s, 1917), 7. Three articles by him appear in the Newfoundland Quarterly (St John{apos}s) – {d-0}Heredity and environment,{d-1} 1 (1901–2), no.4: 21–24; {d-0}The ideal in education,{d-1} 12 (1912–13), no.1: 6–10; and {d-0}The jubilee of years,{d-1} 11 (1911–12), no.3: 21 – as well as a poem {d-0}Britain{apos}s call,{d-1} 14 (1914–15), no.2: 30. Two other poems were printed in the Cadet (St John{apos}s): {d-0}The conflict,{d-1} December 1917: 23 and {d-0}King and empire,{d-1} December 1918: 1.

Private arch., Bertram Riggs (St John{apos}s), E-mail corr. from Cheryl Ennals, Mount Allison Univ. archivist, with information from convocation and commencement programs. Daily News (St John{apos}s), 20 Nov. 1894, 23 Feb. 1925, 6 July 1928. Evening Telegram (St John{apos}s), 6 July 1928. Argosy (Sackville, N.B.), February 1875, September 1876, October 1877, January 1879, March 1888, February 1893, March 1897. Births, deaths and marriages in Newfoundland newspapers, comp. Gert Crosbie (13v., St John{apos}s, 1997–99; also available on CD-ROM), 8 (1881–82); 13 (1890). Canadian men and women of the time (Morgan; 1912). Encyclopedia of Nfld (Smallwood et al.), 1: 679–749. Nfld, House of Assembly, Journal, 1893–96. Newfoundland Medical Board, Newfoundland medical register (n.p.), 1912, 1914. Newfoundland men . . . , ed. H. Y. Mott (Concord, N.H., 1894). Notable events in the history of Newfoundland: six thousand dates of historical and social happenings, comp. M. A. Devine and M. J. O{apos}Mara (St John{apos}s, 1900). Patricia O{apos}Brien, Out of mind, out of sight: a history of the Waterford Hospital (St John{apos}s, 1989). Vital statistics from N.B. newspapers (Johnson), 60 (1882–84). Who{apos}s who and why, 1914. Who{apos}s who in and from Newfoundland . . . (St John{apos}s), 1927. Yearbook and almanac of Newfoundland (St John{apos}s), 1887–1929.

TENASS, JOHN P., Micmac (Mi{apos}kmaw) chief; b. 12 Sept. 1849 near Richibucto, N.B., son of Peter Tenass and Mary Glinn (Green) of the Richibucto tribe; m. first 1869 Ann Ward (d. 20 Feb. 1915) of the Red Bank band, and they had at least three sons and four daughters; m. secondly 1915 Christine Jones, widow of Lemuel Peter-Paul; d. 24 Dec. 1928 at Red Bank, N.B.

The parents of John P. Tenass were living in the Richibucto area at the time of his birth but they were in Northumberland County in 1855, when their son Francis was baptized. In the census of 1871 John{apos}s father, along with his second wife and the younger children of his first marriage, were enumerated in Burnt Church. In 1881 they were at the Eel Ground Indian Reserve on the Northwest Miramichi River, east of Red Bank. Meanwhile, John had married and settled at Red Bank, a place that has been occupied by aboriginals for some 2,500 years.

The Red Bank band was a recognized entity from at least the 1760s, when land in the vicinity of the band{apos}s encampments was granted to British immigrants. Hardships befell the native population as a consequence of colonization, but a large reserve was erected at Red Bank and for many years the residents had a significant measure of control over their own affairs. In 1836, however, a rogue named Barnaby Julian became chief. By squandering the band{apos}s resources and defying provincial officials, he succeeded in making Red Bank a pariah. In the mid 1840s the officials ceased dealing with him or other representatives and chose instead to regard the residents of Red Bank and Eel Ground as members of a single tribe under the chief of Eel Ground. After confederation the Eel Ground Indians were recognized as a band by the government of Canada but requests from Red Bank for similar recognition were rebuffed for nearly 30 years. During this period disputes arose concerning the once reserved lands on which non-Indians had been living under spurious leases issued by Julian. When the government arranged to sell these lands in the early 1890s without the approval of the band, they raised a clamour that could not be ignored. After much squabbling, the Department of Indian Affairs conceded in 1896 that the Red Bank Indians constituted a distinct band and were entitled to elect their own chief. The victor in the first contest, on 24 Aug. 1896, was John P. Tenass. Dedicated to moving forward rather than brooding over the past, he received all but two of the votes cast.

Unlike several of the elected chiefs at Eel Ground, who had become entangled in internecine disputes [see Thomas Barnaby*], Tenass established harmonious relations with almost everyone with whom he was associated, on and off his reserve. His concerns were practical, revolving around timber rights, the acquisition of farm implements, and the establishment of a day school. He first requested a school in 1897, but the district Indian superintendent, William Doherty Carter, opposed the idea on the grounds that there were only a dozen children of school age at Red Bank. When a second election was held, in June 1902, while Tenass was away on a {d-0}surveying expedition,{d-1} he won again. Except for a few years following the election of 1905, which he lost by one vote, he served as chief until 1920; he was then succeeded by his son Mitchell. His dream of establishing a school was realized partially in 1914, when classes were begun, and fully in 1917, when a one-room school was erected.

Tenass{apos}s daughter Mary Jane and her husband, John Augustine, were the parents of Joseph Michael Augustine, who in the 1970s called the attention of the archaeological community to the significance of the ancient sites at Red Bank. His initiative led to his being granted New Brunswick{apos}s distinguished Award for Heritage, and the designation of both the Oxbow site and the Augustine burial mound as national historic sites.

The principal facts contained in this sketch are reported and documented in the author{apos}s book The Julian tribe (Fredericton, 1984). P. [M.] Allen, Metepenagiag, New Brunswick{apos}s oldest village ([rev. ed.], Fredericton, 1994) was also consulted. John P. Tenass, W. D. Wallis{apos}s main host and guide at Red Bank, appears as an informant in W. D. Wallis and Ruth Sawtell Wallis, The Micmac Indians of eastern Canada (Minneapolis, Minn., 1955), 408–9, 475, 479.

Entering on his career as an mla at Quebec on 25 Nov. 1904, Tessier joined erstwhile colleague Lomer Gouin, and backed him in his fight to take over control of the government led by Liberal Simon-Napoléon Parent*. In Gouin{apos}s administration, which held power from 23 March 1905 to 9 July 1920, Tessier served as chair of the private bills committee (1908–12), deputy speaker of the house (1912–14), and minister of highways from 1914. The roads system was one of the premier{apos}s priorities and he created the ministry in 1912 because, as he had explained on 10 January, he wanted {d-0}to do for the highways, for the roads used by motor vehicles, what was done in the past for the railways.{d-1} At first, highways were the responsibility of the minister of agriculture but an autonomous department was put in place when Tessier was appointed minister. He would retain this office in the government of Louis-Alexandre Taschereau* from July 1920 until September 1921. At the time of his appointment there were some 10,000 vehicles in the province. When he left seven years later there were six times as many and it was estimated that the ministry had invested $30 million to make 3,500 miles of highway suitable for vehicles. Premier Taschereau, who succeeded Gouin, thought he had inherited {d-0}the best highway system in Canada.{d-1}

While he was in the cabinet, Tessier continued to serve as mayor of Trois-Rivières, which was in the throes of development. His term came at a time of profound change that would transform the Mauricie region from a rural and forested area into a great industrial valley thriving in the era of electricity, pulp, and paper. Tessier thus faced the challenge of turning the old market town of Trois-Rivières into a modern industrial city attuned to the new social and economic realities. The industrial giants that began production there between 1908 and 1921 included the Wabasso Cotton Company Limited [see Charles Ross Whitehead*], the Canada Iron Corporation Limited, the Wayagamack Pulp and Paper Company, the Three Rivers Shipyard Company, and the International Power and Paper Company. This tremendous industrial surge was supported by the municipal council, which passed measures favourable to investors: tax credits, loans to companies, the purchase of an industrial development centre, the opening of an {d-0}Office for publicity and industry.{d-1} The industrial expansion brought in its wake a rapid increase in population. From 1909 to 1913 three new parishes were created and three more would be added shortly afterwards. The population doubled in less than 20 years, and these new workers, day-labourers, and small shopkeepers would be faithful to the Liberal party. They would give overwhelming majorities to Tessier in his dual capacity as mayor and member of the assembly, as well as to the Liberal {d-0}big boss,{d-1} the mp Jacques Bureau.

There were tensions between the two parliamentarians, however. Observers of the municipal scene, including the newspaper Le Bien public, noted Bureau{apos}s grip on the Trois-Rivières city council, where it was clear that Mayor Tessier was having difficulty leading his colleagues. Several shady deals turned into scandals. A company belonging to one alderman declared bankruptcy after receiving a loan from the city. Another alderman accepted a commission in a big real estate transaction in which the city had an interest. The same person, who was also the treasurer of Bureau{apos}s organization, awarded a contract for a large bond issue to a firm that contributed to the coffers of the Liberals in Trois-Rivières. Late in 1919 a request for an inquiry was submitted to the Superior Court. The judge conducting the inquiry, Louis-Joseph-Alfred Désy, was a former Conservative activist who had clashed with Tessier in the past. He now had an opportunity to dismantle, bit by bit, the foundations of {d-0}Rouge power{d-1} in Trois-Rivières. Carried out in 1920, his inquiry dealt with eleven different issues involving Mayor Tessier, three sitting aldermen, four former aldermen, and other individuals, including Jacques Bureau. Its report, published in January 1921, drew conclusions damning to the city council, though nothing was proved against the mayor himself. The judge acknowledged that Tessier had been lacking in {d-0}circumspection{d-1} and had put the city{apos}s credit at risk, but that he had in the main acted in good faith. At the age of 59, Tessier now decided to leave active politics. In November 1921 he was appointed chair of the Quebec Streams Commission, a governmental body created in 1910 primarily to regulate the flow of rivers, mainly by constructing dams.

In Trois-Rivières the political battle went on without Tessier. The {d-0}populist{d-1} Liberal Arthur Bettez would rise to prominence, against the wishes of the old leader Jacques Bureau, and a young Conservative lawyer named Maurice Le Noblet Duplessis* would benefit from the dissension among the Liberals and the discredit brought on them by the Désy inquiry.

ANQ-MBF, CE401-S21, 18 déc. 1861; CE401-S48, 14 août 1888. Arch. de la Ville de Trois-Rivières, Qué., Procès-verbaux du conseil municipal, 1913–21; Rapport de l{apos}honorable juge Désy (texte dactylographié, 1921). Le Bien public (Trois-Rivières), 1910–21. L{apos}Éveil (Trois-Rivières), 1918–19. Le Journal des Trois-Rivières, 1890–91. Le Nouveau Trois-Rivières, 1908–14. Le Nouvelliste (Trois-Rivières), 1920–28. La Paix (Trois-Rivières), 1888. St. Maurice Valley Chronicle (Trois-Rivières), 1919. Le Bottin parlementaire du Québec ([Montréal], 1962). Alain Gamelin et al., Trois-Rivières illustrée (Trois-Rivières, 1984). François Roy, {d-0}Le crépuscule d{apos}un rouge: J.-A. Tessier, maire de Trois-Rivières et l{apos}enquête Désy de 1920{inch} (mémoire de ma, univ. du Québec à Trois-Rivières, 1989). RPQ. Robert Rumilly, Hist. de la prov. de Québec, vols.12–17; Maurice Duplessis et son temps (2v., Montréal, 1973).

William Thomson{apos}s father was a cabinetmaker whose craft took him and his wife from Aberdeenshire, Scotland, to Guelph. The family moved to Toronto in 1860. William was apprenticed to an engraving firm, and in 1882–86 he attended the Ontario School of Art, where he received instruction from William Cruikshank and John Arthur Fraser*. In his early years his focus on engraving vignettes of buildings for business stationery and advertising helped him refine his art. The static quality of his work gave way to etchings with painterly nuancing.

In 1884 Thomson participated in the organization of the Association of Canadian Etchers. The artistic success of its exhibition of international prints the following year was offset by the show{apos}s financial failure and the association{apos}s demise. Dedicated to printmaking, which established artists{s-1-unknown} societies initially shunned, Thomson moved on with others in 1886 to create the Toronto Art Students{s-1-unknown} League, the first society in Canada to further the graphic arts by conducting life classes, exhibitions, and annual publications. Thomson was its treasurer and, in 1890–91, its president. Later he was a member of the Graphic Arts Club, formed in 1903; it too stimulated interest in prints and contributed to what art historian Rosemarie L. Tovell describes as {d-0}Canada{apos}s etching revival,{d-1} with reference to such earlier artists as James D. Duncan*.

The collegial benefits and nationalistic flavour of the Students{s-1-unknown} League and the Arts Club appealed to Thomson, but he was foremost a working artist. In 1886–88 he had been an engraver with Rolph, Smith and Company and in 1890–91 he worked for the Globe, covering important trials and other stories. In February 1891, for example, he illustrated iceboats skimming across Toronto Bay, slum conditions in the Ward, and club and gymnastic activities at St Andrew{apos}s Institute. He worked as a freelancer usually – for a time his office was next to that of the Students{s-1-unknown} League in the Imperial Bank Buildings – and within a conducive family. For several years before his death in 1894, his father was a supplier of maple and boxwood for engraving plates. From 1900 to 1913 William headed the Thomson Engraving Company, which employed his younger brothers James Stewart and David Francis and whose services included photo-engraving.

After 1910 wide acclaim came to Thomson through shows at the Canadian National Exhibition and the Winnipeg Museum of Fine Arts, the attention of such connoisseurs as Sir Byron Edmund Walker and James Mavor, and purchases by the Art Museum of Toronto and the National Gallery of Canada. His gifts as an engraver on hardwood, steel, and copper placed him in high demand as an instructor and illustrator. He travelled widely in these capacities in the United States and Canada – one dry-point from 1913, Fisherman{apos}s harvest, is set in Vancouver – and he would remain prolific until his death. Following the motto of the Students{s-1-unknown} League ({d-0}Non clamor sed amor{d-1}), he did much of his fine-art work for love, trading his skills for pieces by others and critiquing young artists. In 1916 he was the founding president of the Society of Canadian Painter-Etchers, a largely honorary position since much of his last ten years was spent working in Philadelphia.

Part of Thomson{apos}s oeuvre was lost when he donated a quantity of his plates to a munitions drive during World War I. In 1926 he gave his library to the Arts and Letters Club in Toronto, where he also belonged to the freemasons and the Caer Howell Bowling Club. While visiting his son in 1927 he became ill and died at the Toronto General Hospital. Described by the Globe as the {d-0}dean of Canadian etchers,{d-1} he was buried beside his wife in Mount Pleasant Cemetery.

A collection of William James Thomson{apos}s papers and works of art is in the possession of his grandson William D. Thomson of Bath, Ont. Examples of his work for the Globe appear in the Saturday editions of 7, 21, and 28 Feb. 1891.

AO, RG 22-305, no.10132; RG 80-5-0-187, no.6199. Globe, 30 April 1927. W. G. Colgate, The Toronto Art Students{s-1-unknown} League, 1886–1904 (Toronto, 1954). Dict. of Toronto printers (Hulse). Directory, Toronto, 1884–1923. The encyclopedia of Canada, ed. W. S. Wallace (6v., Toronto, [1948]), 6. J. R. Harper, Early painters and engravers in Canada (Toronto, 1970). Soc. of Canadian Painter-Etchers, William J. Thomson, Canada, engraver, 1857–1927 . . . (Toronto, 1930). R. L. Tovell, A new class of art: the artist{apos}s print in Canadian art, 1877–1920 (Ottawa, 1996).

Bert Todd was born into a privileged situation as the child of a successful wholesale merchant in Victoria. Sent in 1890 to Upper Canada College in Toronto to complete his education, he returned to Victoria four years later to enter the family business, J. H. Todd and Sons, by then an important salmon-canning firm. He remained a principal of the company after his father{apos}s death in 1899, but apparently played only a secondary role.

In 1910 Todd retired from the family firm. Living on income from various assets, he devoted himself to the promotion of highways and tourism, and to civic politics. He initiated a new apartment and commercial development in Victoria, which he would retain until his death. Then he travelled to Los Angeles for his marriage in March to a vivacious 19-year-old, Ada Seabrook, the daughter of a car dealer formerly from Victoria. Before leaving, he requested support from Premier Richard McBride* for the construction of a {d-0}Trans-Provincial Highway,{d-1} but received a non-committal response. The newly-weds set out in a 30-horsepower Cadillac, south to Tijuana, Mexico, and then north to Vancouver on reconnaissance for the proposed Pacific Highway. The story of the trip was submitted to various publications to excite interest in the idea. Later that year Todd was a founder and vice-president of the Seattle-based Pacific Highway Association. He travelled extensively over the next decade to promote the highway and connecting routes from the east, making speeches, lobbying governments, and writing articles. His vision of a unified tourism strategy based on automobile travel in the Pacific northwest and British Columbia led to his promotion in 1915 of the Georgian Circuit route, circling the Strait of Georgia and Puget Sound, and to the formation of the Pacific Northwest Tourist Association in 1917. When the Pacific Highway connecting Vancouver and Tijuana was officially opened in 1923, he was acknowledged as its creator. Todd also promoted the development of Canadian highways, such as the Island Highway connecting Victoria to Nanaimo and points north. He offered cash prizes and medals for various accomplishments in automobile travel on Canadian roads. In 1911 he had been a founder of the Canadian Highway Association, which lobbied governments to construct a transcontinental road. He was also a long-term member and, in 1915, director of the Canadian Good Roads Association.

Todd{apos}s promotion of tourism in Victoria and the surrounding region had led to pressure that he enter civic politics. He served as an alderman in 1914–16. In 1914–15 he was the police commissioner and in 1917–18, mayor of Victoria. As alderman and mayor, he advocated lower taxes and balanced budgets, inter-municipal cooperation, and the promotion of industry and tourism. When he rejoined city council in 1920, he concentrated on the Greater Victoria committee, as well as on utilities, particularly the water system. After running unsuccessfully in Victoria City for the Provincial party of Alexander Duncan McRae* in the provincial election of 1924, he remained an alderman until defeated in the civic election of December 1925. Subsequently, he was employed by the city as an industrial commissioner and water consultant until he became ill in 1927.

Active in many boosting organizations in Victoria, Todd had served as vice-president of the local Board of Trade in 1910–11 and he held office later as president of the Associated Boards of Trade of Vancouver Island. He was a director of the Chamber of Commerce in the early 1920s and a central figure in the Victoria and Island Development Association until he resigned in April 1923 (a month after the association was renamed the Victoria and Island Publicity Bureau). A member of Victoria{apos}s elite, he belonged to the appropriate clubs, including the Union Club, Pacific Club, Vancouver Club, and Victoria Golf Club, and he was a director of the James Bay Athletic Association. In addition to motoring and tourism, his recreational interests included shooting and fishing. He worshipped in the Church of England.

After his death in Seattle, where he had undergone surgery for a brain tumour, Todd was most recognized in the local press as {d-0}Good Roads{d-1} Todd for his central role in the development of various highways. This was just one aspect of his enthusiastic vision for Victoria and Vancouver Island. He had also encouraged cooperative strategies of municipal management and promotion. Despite the fact that his social position derived from his family{apos}s successful resource-extractive business, he had directed his efforts at building a post-industrial economy for the region based foremost on tourism. His initiatives seem prescient in the Victoria of the early 21st century.

Albert Edward Todd may have played a role in the preparation of promotional brochures for the organizations in which he was involved. Many of these brochures are available in the library of the BCA. In addition, he wrote numerous letters concerning roads, Victoria{apos}s politics, and the promotion of the city and region to the editors of local newspapers. He is also the author of {d-0}Good roads and the automobile: Mr. A. E. Todd{apos}s Pacific coast international tour,{d-1} Pacific Monthly (Portland, Oreg.), 25 (May 1911): 565–77; an address, The Pacific Highway . . . (Seattle, Wash., 1913; copy at BCA); and {d-0}British Columbia faces the reconstruction period with confidence,{d-1} Industrial Progress and Commercial Record (Vancouver), 7 (December 1918): 216.

BCA, A/E/G41/T56.2; A/E/G41/T562; E/D/T56; E/D/T56.1 (A. E. Todd clippings file, 1920–25); E/D/T56.1 (A. E. Todd scrapbook, 1910–24); GR-1052, file 16740; GR-1304, files 288/1928–330/1928. City of Victoria Arch., News clippings, A. E. Todd; PR 115 (Todd family coll.). Daily Colonist (Victoria), 1909–28. Victoria Daily Times, 1909–28. {d-0}Alderman Todd,{d-1} Sunshine (Victoria), 17 April 1916: 1–2. Valerie Green, Excelsior!: the story of the Todd family (Victoria, 1990); {d-0}Good Roads Todd,{d-1} British Columbia Hist. News (Victoria), 24 (1990–91), no.4: 5–7; No ordinary people: Victoria{apos}s mayors since 1862 (Victoria, 1992). G. W. Taylor, The automobile saga of British Columbia, 1864–1914 (Victoria, 1984). Victoria Motor Club, Articles of association and by-laws . . . (Victoria, [1907?]).

Brought up in Aylmer, Lower Canada, William James Topley was probably introduced to photography by his mother, who in the late 1850s had purchased equipment in Montreal and used it in Aylmer. He began his career as a tintypist and was listed in a directory as an itinerant photographer in Upper Canada in 1863, but he was employed at apprentice wages when he was engaged by William Notman* in Montreal in 1864. He had moved there with his mother and family after his father{apos}s death in 1863. His abilities may have later induced Notman to engage his younger brothers Horatio Needham and John George as apprentice photographers.

Notman saw William to be extraordinarily competent not only as a photographer but also, potentially, as a manager. In January 1868, when Topley was 22, Notman put him in charge of his new photographic rooms in Ottawa, the first Notman studio outside Montreal. Located in a purpose-built structure on Wellington Street across from the Parliament Buildings, the studio quickly attracted local patrons and visiting notables such as members of the new dominion parliament. Indeed, the Topley studio took photographs of all the prime ministers from Sir John A. Macdonald* to William Lyon Mackenzie King* and of the governors general from Baron Lisgar [Young*] to Lord Grey*. By 1872, when Topley became {d-0}proprietor{d-1} of the studio, it was attracting over 2,300 sitters each year, a level not exceeded until the beginning of the 20th century.

Notman had opened his Ottawa branch because he saw the city as a growing market. Topley capitalized on this. By the late 1870s he was the official photographer to Governor General Lord Lorne [Campbell*], an association that added lustre to his studio and attracted clientele. Portraits were a major part of Topley{apos}s output but his scenic views for the tourist trade, work for businesses and other commissions in Ottawa and across Canada, and a considerable volume for the government constitute tens of thousands of images. His photographs of immigrants arriving at Quebec, done for the Department of the Interior, have become iconic through repeated publication. Outside his studio he used a horse-drawn portable darkroom during the 1870s. His presentation of images changed over time: in the 1860s the vogue had been for cartes de visite and cabinet-sized photographs but by the turn of the century larger prints, mounted on dark-olive-coloured card embossed with the Topley name, were a major product. Like Notman, Topley also produced composite images – large prints created by carefully preconceiving a scene and then photographing the participants at the correct angle and with the right attitude to fit it. Unlike Notman, Topley turned out few of the stereographs that were a mainstay for many 19th-century photographers. With the coming of popular amateur photography, the Topley Studio stocked cameras, film, and other supplies and promoted its photofinishing and enlargement operations. Sometime about the turn of the century, the Topley Scientific Instruments Company was organized to sell optical devices, surveying equipment, and photostatting machines and to provide support services.

Topley{apos}s life appears to have been imbued with an evangelical Christian sensibility. From his earliest days in the capital he was active in the sabbath school movement, in Hull, Ottawa, and elsewhere in the Ottawa valley. By the mid 1870s he was the Sunday school superintendent at Dominion Methodist Church, where he sang in the choir. Active in the Ottawa Bible Society, he was a major force in the Young Men{apos}s Christian Association, serving as president in 1871 and 1881 and assuming other directorial duties over the years. He did not, however, limit his community participation to evangelism. He was involved in the Metropolitan Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, and with his wife contributed to local charities. His sense of compassion is evident in some of his photographs; a portrait of Polly, a female inmate at the Carleton County jail, is particularly affecting. He also sat on the executive of the Fine Arts Association, was a founding member of the Camera Club of Ottawa, had a boat on the Rideau River, and joined in autumn hunting parties.

In 1907 his son, William DeCourcy, took over his studio, but Topley appears to have remained involved, possibly until 1918. By this time it was considerably less significant than it once had been. The importance of portraiture as a photographic art had diminished after 1900 and the number of sittings had declined steeply. The order book ends in 1923, and the business was {d-0}discontinued{d-1} in July 1926. Topley and his wife, who died in 1927, spent much of their last years in Edmonton with their daughter, Helena Sarah, and son-in-law, Robert C. W. Lett, an employee of the Grand Trunk Pacific Railway who had probably been influential in the naming of Topley, a community on the GTP line in northern British Columbia. W. J. Topley died at Helena{apos}s temporary residence in Vancouver in 1930.

Topley{apos}s major published work is The Ottawa album, containing photographs and advertisements of the principal business houses, hotels and steamboats and local views (Ottawa, 1875), which includes 61 tipped-in prints. Topley photographs also appeared, mainly in the 1890s, in Dominion Illustrated (Montreal), Lounger (Ottawa), and Owl (Ottawa), among other magazines, as well as in newspapers and sheet music. Selected portraits are reproduced in Public Arch. of Canada, National Photography Coll., William James Topley: portraits, 1868–1881 . . . ([Ottawa, 1978]). a.r.]

LAC, RG 37, C, 328, 1911; 4 Oct. 1926. Globe, 17 Aug. 1872. Ottawa Citizen, 8 Nov. 1867, 7 July 1874, 17 Nov. 1930. Ottawa Free Press, 2 Feb. 1873. A. A. Gard, Pioneers of the upper Ottawa and the humors of the valley . . . (4pts. in 1v., Ottawa, [1906]). Mitchell{apos}s Canada gazetteer and business directory for 1864–65 (Toronto, 1864). S. G. Triggs, William Notman: the stamp of a studio (Toronto, 1985).

TOURIGNY, PAUL (baptized Napoléon), merchant, land speculator, farmer, politician, and industrialist; b. 2 Nov. 1852 in Saint-Christophe-d{apos}Arthabaska, Lower Canada, son of Landry Tourigny, a farmer, and Lucie Poirier; m. first 5 May 1874 Alice Lavigne in Saint-Édouard (Bécancour), Que.; m. secondly 2 Sept. 1914 Josephine Laberge, widow of Auguste Laberge, in Montreal; he had at least eight children, of whom four sons and three daughters survived him; d. 31 Jan. 1926 in Victoriaville, Que.

Tourigny probably went to local schools in Saint-Christophe-d{apos}Arthabaska. Although in 1899 he would belong to the association of former students of the Collège Commercial du Sacré-Cœur, founded in Arthabaskaville (Victoriaville), he most likely never attended the institution; his name is not included in its list of students. In 1875 he moved to nearby Victoriaville, then a burgeoning commercial centre beside the railway, and he soon became involved in commerce and real estate. He acquired a small general store that developed rapidly. When he built his palatial home and business establishment on Victoriaville{apos}s commercial artery, it had 100 feet of frontage and included a furniture store and a general store. Around 1908 his son Arthur became involved in the stores, which did a combined yearly business of about $75,000.

It was in the industrial sphere that Tourigny{apos}s career was most remarkable. Until about 1890 most of the industrial activity in Victoriaville had involved the transformation of natural resources (sawmills, potash production, tanneries, and foundries), enterprises that had been established by English-speaking entrepreneurs with links to Quebec City. In 1894 Tourigny, with Cyrias Thibault and other francophone merchants, founded the Victoriaville Furniture Company Limited with a capitalization of $10,000. The firm made dressers, tables, and sideboards. In 1909 R. G. Dun and Company estimated that it was worth from $35,000 to $50,000. By 1912 it employed 150 people and possessed its own timber limits and sawmills. Despite the prominence of Tourigny{apos}s name in Tourigny et Marois, a shoe factory he had established in Quebec City with Alfred-Eugène Marois in 1898, his involvement had been limited to providing $5,000, half of the initial capital. He played no role in the administration of the firm and sold his shares to his partner in 1910. Most of his business endeavours remained concentrated in the Victoriaville region.

When, in 1901, local notables set up the Club de Victoriaville, they saw themselves not as merchants but as industrialists. Tourigny, by this time, was on several boards of directors. He and many of the local businessmen established the Chambre de Commerce du Comté d{apos}Arthabaska two years later. During the first decade of the 20th century Tourigny helped to set up and provided initial capital for a series of companies in the Victoriaville region, most of them manufacturing furniture (chairs, mattresses, and bedsteads that were sold throughout Canada) and a variety of goods for personal consumption (clothing, shoes, and jewellery). In 1909 R. G. Dun and Company estimated that one boot and shoe factory owned by Tourigny was worth between $200,000 and $300,000. About 90 per cent of the capital mobilized to set up these companies had been subscribed by the municipal council, presided over by Tourigny and other members of the same merchant class that directed the firms. The municipality in turn raised the money by issuing bonds that were sold through financial institutions in Montreal. The practice of municipal bonuses, widespread at the time, consisted of outright grants to the companies, forgivable loans, long-term tax holidays (up to 20 years), and in some cases the provision of electricity and water. By the 1920s a new generation of industrial captains had arrived, more ambitious and adventurous than Tourigny. He sold most of his interests in the various firms and there followed a period of reorganization and restructuring.

At his death in 1926, Paul Tourigny possessed only real estate holdings. His business success was not duplicated by his children who, in contrast to their father, benefited from the education and social status that went with being members of the leading family of Victoriaville. Tourigny{apos}s will, which would be contested, redistributed his wealth to the poorest members of his family rather than to those of his children who {d-0}did not need it.{d-1} He had also provided for over 550 masses, indicating that he had not forsaken the traditional society from which he had so spectacularly emerged. The merchants and notables of Victoriaville, of whom Tourigny was a prime example, had created the first wave of industrialization in the region, but it did not endure. As his career illustrates, the financial capital of their initial success was transformed into political and social capital. The cultural basis for venture capitalism had yet to emerge.

ANQ-MBF, CE401-S9, 5 mai 1874; CE402-S2, 3 nov. 1852. BCM-G, RBMS, Saint-Louis-de-France (Montréal), 2 sept. 1914. Bibliothèque de l{apos}Assemblée Nationale (Québec), Service de la recherche, dossiers des parlementaires. L{apos}Événement, 2, 5 févr. 1926. Le Soleil, 1er févr. 1926. L{apos}Union des Cantons de l{apos}Est (Arthabaska [Victoriaville], Qué.), 4, 11 févr. 1926. Album historique du centenaire de Victoriaville, 1861–1961 (Victoriaville, [1961?]). Alain Bergeron, {d-0}Visages du siècle: Paul Tourigny,{d-1} L{apos}Union (Victoriaville), 11 août 1999. Gary Caldwell, {d-0}Les industriels francophones: Victoriaville au début du siècle,{d-1} Recherches sociographiques (Québec), 24 (1983): 9–31. Collège Commercial du Sacré-Cœur, Palmarès du collège commercial du Sacré-Cœur, Arthabaskaville (Arthabaskaville [Victoriaville], 1898–99). CPG. DPQ. J.-C. Falardeau, {d-0}L{apos}origine et l{apos}ascension des hommes d{apos}affaires dans la société canadienne-française,{d-1} Cahiers internationaux de sociologie (Paris), 38 (1965): 109–20. P.-A. Linteau, {d-0}Quelques réflexions autour de la bourgeoisie québécoise, 1850–1914,{d-1} RHAF, 30 (1976–77): 55–66. Le patrimoine architectural dans les Bois-Francs, sous la dir. de Gisèle Beaudet (2v., Arthabaska, 1984), 1 (Rapport de recherche et circuits architecturaux et historiques Victoriaville–Arthabaska). Qué., Assemblée Législative, Débats, 1900–16. Gustave Turcotte, Le Conseil législatif de Québec, 1774–1933 (Beauceville, Qué., 1933). Victoriaville, Québec, Canada, 1913 ([Victoriaville?], 1913).

The daughter of a deacon in the Congregational Church in Neath, Margaret Townsend began a career in education when she was indentured as a pupil teacher at age 14. She soon became a fully qualified teacher, but a year in a rural school in Great Britain left her with rheumatic fever. Characteristically, she did not allow the illness to slow her for long; Margaret, later described as a woman of {d-0}singular activity, both in the mental and physical sense,{d-1} went to South America. She had been engaged since 1864 to a Mr Fox, whom she had met in England, and she joined him in Coquimbo, Chile, where they were married shortly after her arrival in December 1866. Margaret opened a school to teach English to the children of Coquimbo.

In 1876 Margaret was left a widow with four young children. Teaching became her main source of income, but after struggling for three years, she {d-0}succumbed to an attack of nervous prostration.{d-1} Perhaps not coincidentally, her health improved with her marriage in 1879 to David Jenkins. She seemed to be following a pattern: hard work led to illness and then recovery through marriage. Although her later work as a pioneer of the women{apos}s movement belied this pattern of marrying to regain security, she may have come to believe that women needed more options and independence than she had had. Self-interest would not be her sole motivation for pressing for women{apos}s rights. {d-0}I consider that women in their public work should lose sight of self,{d-1} she later said. She seems to have balanced traditional virtues of womanhood such as self-sacrifice, piety, and devotion to motherhood with political and social ideals that attracted her to social reform, women{apos}s rights movements, and municipal politics.

Margaret, David, their combined family, and an additional three children born to them set sail for Canada on 30 April 1882. The family{apos}s first venture, farming on Salt Spring Island, B.C., failed within a year and they moved to Victoria. She soon applied her formidable energy to various causes.

Between 1883 and 1921 Margaret was a member and office holder of the Welsh Cymmrodorian Society, the ladies{s-1-unknown} aid committee of the Metropolitan Methodist Church, the Victoria branch of the Women{apos}s Conservative Club, the Home Nursing Society, the ladies{s-1-unknown} auxiliary to the Young Men{apos}s Christian Association, and the Women{apos}s Canadian Club, of which she was president from 1912 to 1921. The two organizations in which she was most involved, however, were the Woman{apos}s Christian Temperance Union and the Local Council of Women. Prompted by a visit from American temperance advocate Frances Elizabeth Caroline Willard, Victoria women met to organize a branch of the WCTU in July 1883. Margaret attended the convention, joined the branch, and became corresponding secretary for the provincial union, established at the same time. She hosted many meetings in her home in 1883 and 1884, and in May 1884 she joined the program committee to plan the second provincial temperance convention to be held the following month. At the June meeting, she was appointed organizer for Vancouver Island. The WCTU put forth a plan to circulate books and tracts, to have articles published in the press, and to urge local organizations to forbid the use of alcohol at their gatherings. Its members tied their role in temperance activities to women{apos}s voting rights. In the mid 1880s Margaret and Mrs Anne Cecilia Spofford [McNaughton*] {d-0}canvassed the city . . . to get the women of Victoria to vote and thus show their appreciation of the privilege of the [municipal] franchise.{d-1} In 1887–88 Margaret was vice-president of the provincial WCTU and in 1900 she became president of the Victoria WCTU.

By 1897 Margaret was a member of the Local Council of Women of Victoria and Vancouver Island [see Edith Perrin*], which she would serve as recording secretary from 1904 to 1910 and as vice-president from 1911 to 1914. She became the council{apos}s candidate for school trustee in the city election of 1897, promoting {d-0}compulsory scientific temperance education.{d-1} She was Victoria{apos}s third female trustee and served in 1897, in 1898, and from 1902 to 1919. In this capacity she visited schools across the country and in 1912 she introduced a special class for mentally challenged children in Victoria schools. She also helped develop domestic science programs. After leaving the school board in 1919 she remained honorary adviser to the domestic science committee. A new public school built in Victoria in 1914 was named the Margaret Jenkins School in recognition of her work. On her retirement in 1921 local women{apos}s organizations hosted a reception attended by 400 women. They paid tribute to her {d-0}extraordinary executive abilities, gracious charm and broad vision.{d-1} Her friend and noted fellow suffragist Emmeline Pankhurst said that in her the Canadian Club had had a president {d-0}whose abilities had she been a man – which would have been a great loss to womanhood – would have carried her into any position in the Empire or in Canada.{d-1} Her granddaughter recalled that even after retiring from public duties Margaret continued to spend many hours visiting hospital-bound war veterans.

Although Margaret Jenkins frequently stated that home and family were her priorities and that a woman{apos}s role as a mother was her most important task, she embraced a life of public service in which her children and husband were rarely mentioned. In her 80th year, two years after she had retired, she suffered a heart attack and died at home. The Daily Colonist reported that {d-0}she will be remembered as one of the most . . . influential figures in the New Woman movement.{d-1} Her life expressed the contradictions of an era, mixing 19th-century ideals of true womanhood with a public service record that pushed for change and helped launch a {d-0}new woman{d-1} in the 20th century.

BCA, MS-1961; MS-2227; MS-2818. Daily Colonist (Victoria), 1, 4, 6 July 1883; 11 July 1885; 14 May 1897; 16, 26 Oct. 1921; 7 June 1923; 17 Aug. 1971. Victoria Daily Times, 6, 19 Oct. 1921; 7 June 1923. Elizabeth Forbes, Wild roses at their feet: pioneer women of Vancouver Island ([Victoria], 1971). Lyn Gough, As wise as serpents: five women & an organization that changed British Columbia, 1883–1939 (Victoria, 1988). In her own right: selected essays on women{apos}s history in B.C., ed. Barbara Latham and Cathy Kess (Victoria, 1980). Woman{apos}s Christian Temperance Union of British Columbia, Silver anniversary of the provincial Woman{apos}s Christian Temperance Union of British Columbia, 1883–1908 . . . (Victoria, 1908; copy in BCA, Northwest coll.).

By blood, outlook, religion, and education, Charles Townshend was a true specimen of the old-regime elite in the Maritimes. His paternal grandfather was William Townshend*, an early collector of customs in Prince Edward Island. His father served as rector of Christ Church, Amherst, for over 60 years, and through his mother, a daughter of judge Alexander Stewart*, Townshend was connected to the Dickey, Ritchie, and Tupper legal dynasties. A graduate of King{apos}s College, Windsor (ba 1863, bcl 1872), Townshend was to sit on its board of governors from 1881 to 1886, become part of the reconstituted {d-0}faculty of civil law{d-1} in 1890, and act as chancellor from 1912 to 1922. King{apos}s would award him an honorary dcl in 1908.

After serving three years of his apprenticeship in Amherst and the final year in Halifax, Townshend was called to the bar in 1866. In 1868 he succeeded to the large Amherst practice of his uncle Senator Robert Barry Dickey. A decade later he admitted his brother John Medley Townshend and his cousin Arthur Rupert Dickey as partners. Amherst in the last quarter of the 19th century was developing a diversified industrial economy, based on nearby coalmines and good rail connections [see Nelson Admiral Rhodes*]. The combination of family prestige, economic growth, and Townshend{apos}s own talent would bring him an extensive clientele, including locally based corporations such as the Amherst Boot and Shoe Manufacturing Company, of which he was a promoter and director, and the Cumberland Railway and Coal Company. In 1880 he was created a dominion qc.

In spite of his professional success Townshend was dissatisfied in the early 1880s. Scholarly and reserved, he was temperamentally suited to the judicial role, and as he explained candidly to Premier John Sparrow David Thompson* in 1882, {d-0}My tastes and ambition . . . have been to excel in the profession – outside of it – for politics I care nothing, and only went into them, with a view to the Bench.{d-1} He also began to yearn for horizons larger than Amherst could offer, but his overtures to join Thompson{apos}s law firm in Halifax were rebuffed.

Townshend{apos}s political career had begun with an unsuccessful attempt to obtain a seat for Cumberland County in the House of Assembly in 1874; he had better luck there in the Conservative sweep of September 1878. As minister without portfolio in the government of Simon Hugh Holmes*, he was notable mainly for drafting the County Incorporation Act of 1879, which ended the antiquated system of local government by the sessions magistrates. Townshend retained his seat after the Conservative rout in 1882, but two years later an arrangement with Cumberland Liberals saw him acclaimed as successor to Sir Charles Tupper*{apos}s seat in the House of Commons [see Thomas Reuben Black*]. Once Thompson became dominion attorney general in 1885, he received a stream of increasingly admonitory letters from Townshend regarding the judgeship that Tupper had allegedly promised him.

On 4 March 1887 Townshend was named to the Supreme Court of Nova Scotia, and he moved to Halifax shortly thereafter. The court was much in need of rehabilitation after a series of mostly indifferent appointments. Thompson{apos}s nomination of Townshend was part of his strategy to improve the court through a new emphasis on professional competence. This approach did not render partisan service irrelevant to judicial promotion – it remained fundamental – but it did add a new element to the calculus of patronage; none of Thompson{apos}s other four appointees to the Nova Scotia court had held elective office, though all were Conservatives. On 2 Nov. 1907 Prime Minister Sir Wilfrid Laurier* would follow Thompson{apos}s lead by elevating Townshend, then the senior judge, to the chief justiceship on the resignation of Sir Robert Linton Weatherbe*, resisting political pressure to promote the junior puisne judge, Liberal Arthur Drysdale. In response to his increasing deafness, Townshend had earlier adopted a rather unbecoming ear trumpet. When he asked his fellow judges how it looked, his colleague Benjamin Russell* observed that {d-0}there was no great alacrity in replying, but Mr. Justice Weatherbe was equal to the occasion with the remark: {s-0}What matters it how it looks if it enables you the better to discharge your duty?{s-1-unknown}{d-1} Townshend was made a knight bachelor in 1911 and retired on 10 April 1915; Wallace Nesbit Graham* succeeded him as chief justice. At the end of his life Townshend had the satisfaction of seeing his youngest son, Cecil Wray, take up the legal profession; he graduated from Dalhousie law school in 1923.

During Townshend{apos}s tenure a great deal of new federal and provincial legislation was passed. Cases involving temperance regulation, mining law, the power of corporations and municipalities, and legislation relating to married women{apos}s property all came before the court with increasing regularity. Townshend was an able jurist and his legal opinions were well respected in the Supreme Court of Canada; his views, however, tended to be conservative. When in parliament he had opposed women{apos}s suffrage, and in a number of decisions he gave a restrictive interpretation to Nova Scotia{apos}s Married Women{apos}s Property Act of 1884 until it was substantially amended in 1898.

Townshend delivered the oration at the public celebrations marking the 150th anniversary of representative government in Nova Scotia in 1908, and since that date the commemoration of 1758 has totally eclipsed any celebration of the achievement of responsible government. In contrast to early Victorian celebrations, in which representatives of the black and native communities played a part and which sometimes included women, the 1908 event was a white, indeed Anglo-Saxon, male show, constructed to illustrate the superiority of the British race and to bathe provincial institutions in the reflected light of imperial glory. Townshend{apos}s imperial bent revealed itself in his private life as well. He insisted that his family descended from the noble Townshends of Norfolk, although the authors of Burke{apos}s peerage were not convinced; his summer home in Wolfville was named Raynham, after the Townshends{s-1-unknown} principal manor in England.

[There is a small fonds of Townshend papers at NSARM, which features {d-0}A short record of the Townshend family,{d-1} written by Charles James Townshend for his descendants in 1896. Perhaps Townshend{apos}s rather severe nature has discouraged biographers: the only published account aside from the standard biographical dictionaries is R. E. Inglis, {d-0}Sketches of two chief justices of Nova Scotia,{d-1} N.S. Hist. Soc., Coll. (Halifax), 39 (1977): 107–19. For the political and legal background, P. B. Waite, The man from Halifax: Sir John Thompson, prime minister (Toronto, 1985), is indispensable; see also Philip Girard, {d-0}The Supreme Court of Nova Scotia, responsible government, and the quest for legitimacy, 1850–1920,{d-1} Dalhousie Law Journal (Halifax), 17 (1994): 430–57.

Townshend{apos}s own writings were extensive. His best work, still useful today, is contained in two long articles on the history of Nova Scotia courts which appeared in instalments in the Canadian Law Times (Toronto), the first in vol.19 (1899) on the courts of judicature (in fact, restricted to the Inferior Court of Common Pleas and the Supreme Court) and the second in vol.20 (1900) on the Court of Chancery. These articles were published together in 1900 by Carswell of Toronto, under the misleading title History of the Court of Chancery in Nova Scotia (Toronto, 1900). Townshend{apos}s {d-0}Life of Honorable Alexander Stewart, c.b.,{d-1} appeared in N.S. Hist. Soc., Coll., 15 (1911): 1–114 and was published in book form, probably as a vanity edition, the same year. Townshend{apos}s writings include three additional sketches in the Coll.: {d-0}Memoir of the life of the Honourable William Blowers Bliss,{d-1} 17 (1913): 23–45; {d-0}Jonathan Belcher, first chief justice of Nova Scotia,{d-1} 18 (1914): 25–57; and his final paper, {d-0}The Honourable James McDonald,{d-1} 20 (1921): 139–53. p.g.]

Auguste-Henri de Trémaudan{apos}s family came from Pipriac (dept of Ille-et-Vilaine) in France. His father had been a captain in the French army during the Franco-German war. In 1871 the Trémaudans emigrated to Saint-Jean-Chrysostome, in the province of Quebec, where Auguste-Henri was born three years later. After living there for about ten years, they went back to France and took up residence in Saint-Nazaire, near Nantes. Auguste-Henri attended the Petit Séminaire de Guérande, where he did his classical studies and acquired a good knowledge of English.

In 1893 the family signed a contract with the Société Foncière du Canada, which had been set up in Paris that year to establish a French colony at Montmartre in western Canada, where the Trémaudans settled. Unsuited for farming because of his delicate health, Auguste-Henri studied for a few months at the normal school in Regina. Soon he was giving English lessons to children in Montmartre, where he taught in the primary school until 1902. At the same time he worked as a clerk to familiarize himself with the law. Although not a formal member of the bar, he practised his new profession as a lawyer in Manor from 1902 to 1911, when he left Saskatchewan and moved to The Pas, in Manitoba. There he founded the Hudson{apos}s Bay Herald, and he remained its editor until 1913, the year he became a member of the Manitoba bar. Around 1914 he moved to St Boniface (Winnipeg), where he would make his home until 1919. During these years, and probably until 1921, he worked for the Winnipeg Trustee Company and wrote for a number of newspapers, sometimes using the pseudonym Prosper Willaume. In October 1915 he also became an editor at Le Soleil de l{apos}Ouest, a Liberal weekly published in Winnipeg. When it ceased publication on 2 March 1916, he immediately launched La Libre Parole in that city, and he continued to promote the policies of the federal Liberal party and the defence of the French language. He and Albert Dayen, a Frenchman by birth, were co-editors of this weekly until its demise in March 1919. In the period 1916 to 1918 he also gave a few lectures enlivened by history, and some of them were published. From 1919 to 1923 he lived and practised law in Sainte-Rose-du-Lac. He was back in St Boniface in 1923 for a short time, working in the real estate business.

At the beginning of 1924 Trémaudan moved to Los Angeles, where the milder climate was better suited to his failing health. For financial reasons, only one of his sons went with him; the rest of the family joined him a little later. In his new country of adoption, Trémaudan found employment in various places, in particular in law offices. He was also active in the Union Saint-Jean-Baptiste d{apos}Amérique and numerous other organizations to defend the French language.

Auguste-Henri de Trémaudan{apos}s most important work, however, was probably the Histoire de la nation métisse dans l{apos}Ouest canadien. On leaving Canada, he had sold his collection of books and documents on the history of the Canadian west to the Union Nationale Métisse Saint-Joseph du Manitoba. Shortly thereafter, the organization commissioned him to write (as the foreword would put it) {d-0}a simple account, as complete as possible, about the deeds of French-Canadian Métis.{d-1} Trémaudan{apos}s collection was returned to him, and he began work in the spring of 1927. The author – who all his life had used his pen to support the cultural and language rights of western Canadian francophones – died of pleurisy before finishing his task. The Union Nationale Métisse Saint-Joseph du Manitoba undertook to write the last chapter, which would appear as an appendix to the volume when it was published at Montreal in 1935.

Auguste-Henri de Trémaudan is the author of several lectures published under the following titles: Pourquoi nous parlons français (Winnipeg, 1916); Les précurseurs ([s.l., 1916?]); Le sang français (Winnipeg, 1918). He also published articles in the CHR: {d-0}Louis Riel and the Fenian raid of 1871,{d-1} 4 (1923): 132–44; [Louis Riel], {d-0}The execution of Thomas Scott{d-1} (edited by Trémaudan), 6 (1925): 222–36; {d-0}Letter of Louis Riel and Ambroise Lépine to Lieutenant-Governor Morris, January 3, 1873{inch} (translated and edited by Trémaudan), 7 (1926): 137–60; and a review of Manitoba (Paris, 1924) and La bourrasque (Paris 1925) by Maurice Constantin-Weyer, 7: 256–59. He contributed two articles as well to Le Canada français (Québec): {d-0}Les nôtres en Californie,{d-1} 2e sér., 18 (1930–31): 107–20, and {d-0}Une page de l{apos}histoire de la nation métisse dans l{apos}ouest du Canada,{d-1} 2e sér., 16 (1928–29): 7–16. In addition, Trémaudan wrote a novel, L{apos}île au massacre: roman canadien inédit (Montréal, 1928), and five plays: De fil en aiguille: mélodrame canadien-français en 3 actes (Los Angeles, 1925); Quand même! pièce canadienne en trois actes (Montréal, 1928); Feu follet: comédie dramatique canadienne en quatre actes (Montréal, 1929); Petit-Baptiste: comédie héroïque en quatre actes (Montréal, 1929); and Pureté: pièce en un acte (Montréal, [1930]). In addition to his Histoire de la nation métisse dans l{apos}Ouest canadien, he published Hudson Bay road, 1498–1915 (London and Toronto, 1915); Riel et la naissance du Manitoba ([Winnipeg], 1921); and Une page de l{apos}histoire de la nation métisse dans l{apos}ouest du Canada ([Québec, 1928]).

AM, AVF, A.-H. de Trémaudan. ANQ-M, CE607-S6, 15 juill. 1874. Heritage Centre (Winnipeg), Soc. hist. métisse. LAC, MG 26, G. La Presse, 7 nov. 1929. Biblio. of the prairie prov. (Peel). Hélène Chaput, Donatien Frémont: journaliste de l{apos}Ouest canadien (Saint-Boniface [Winnipeg], 1977). Cyclopædia of Canadian biog. (Rose and Charlesworth), vol.3. Dictionnaire de l{apos}Amérique française; francophonie nord-américaine hors Québec, Charles Dufresne et al., édit. (Ottawa, 1988), 367. {d-0}Les disparus,{d-1} BRH, 36 (1930): 94. Jean Doat, Anthologie du théâtre québécois (Québec, 1973). DOLQ, vol.2. Lionel Dorge, Introduction à l{apos}étude des Franco-Manitobains; essai historique et bibliographique (Saint-Boniface, 1973). Bernard Pénisson, Henri d{apos}Hellencourt; un journaliste français au Manitoba (1898–1905) (Saint-Boniface, 1986).

Frederick Urry grew up in Birmingham, where he was articled in and then practised architecture. Along the way he received a strong education in the humanities. A Fabian socialist in outlook, he was active in the Independent Labour party. In 1903 Urry and his wife, the daughter of an {d-0}artist-in-oils{d-1} whom he had married at an Independent (Congregational) chapel in Birmingham, immigrated to Canada, hoping to find better opportunities for their children. They homesteaded in the Rainy River District of northwest Ontario for three years before moving to the Lakehead, then undergoing spectacular growth due to Canada{apos}s wheat boom. Urry opened an architectural practice in Port Arthur, where prosperity had also brought labour unrest and social distress, especially among unorganized workers and the foreign-born. For the rest of his life he would devote himself to ameliorating these problems.

At first Urry attempted to synthesize three distinctive, sometimes opposing, approaches to social betterment: trade unionism, the Social Gospel, and socialism. Initially he found unions in Port Arthur to be in a {d-0}lamentable{d-1} state. After joining the United Brotherhood of Carpenters and Joiners of America, he became its secretary and was its delegate at the meeting of the Trades and Labor Congress of Canada in Winnipeg in 1907. In April 1908 he founded the Port Arthur Trades and Labor Council and organized a public celebration of the event at his church, St Paul{apos}s Presbyterian, with John George Shearer as key speaker. Its minister, Samuel Crothers Murray, shared Urry{apos}s views, and together they organized a lay {d-0}Brotherhood{d-1} to promote and debate the Social Gospel and the cause of labour. In one discussion Urry would explain that {d-0}socialism has for its object the co-operative commonwealth belonging to the whole of the people instead of the competitive system of capitalism.{d-1}

In September 1908 Urry attended three conferences concerned with social and working conditions in Canada. He represented labour at a meeting in Toronto of the Presbyterian Church{apos}s Board of Moral and Social Reform [see Shearer]. Then he attended the founding meeting there of the Ontario section of the Socialist Party of Canada. Later, while in Halifax for the convention of the TLC, he learned of his nomination as the labour-socialist candidate for Thunder Bay and Rainy River in the upcoming federal election. Urry took only eight per cent of the votes, losing to James Conmee*; he also fell out with the SPC over his advocacy of {d-0}a fair day{apos}s wage{d-1} instead of {d-0}abolishment of the wage system.{d-1}

Urry none the less retained labour{apos}s esteem. At his initiative the TLC held its convention of 1910 at the Lakehead, with a number of sessions at the Finnish socialist organization{apos}s new Labor Temple in Port Arthur, for which Urry had been a building consultant though not the architect. Backed by the labour councils of Port Arthur and Fort William (Thunder Bay), in 1911 he founded the Independent Labor party of {d-0}New Ontario,{d-1} ran as its provincial candidate (and lost), and launched the weekly Wage-Earner. He had more electoral success municipally, serving on city council in 1911, 1912, and 1914.

In labour disputes at the Lakehead, Urry often intervened personally or served on boards of conciliation. In 1909 a gun battle in Fort William between Canadian Pacific Railway police and striking, non-unionized freight-handlers, most from Greece and Italy, led to the riot act being read, the militia called out, and regular soldiers brought in from Winnipeg. Now a correspondent for the Labour Gazette (Ottawa), the journal of the federal Department of Labour, Urry arranged for the department to appoint a conciliation board. Its decision for the men was a hollow victory since, in 1910, the CPR barred southern Europeans from its employ. In 1912 {d-0}Brother Urry{d-1} wrote the minority report in a dispute between unionized coal-handlers in Port Arthur and the Canadian Northern Coal and Ore Dock Company. Conciliation failed. Violence and recourse to the militia marked the subsequent walkout and led militant labour organizers to call a general strike. The dispute ended with some concessions for the dockers, thanks to Urry. It was in such situations, his daughter later recalled, that he {d-0}would often be called out in the middle of the night. . . . He had a magnetic personality and could quickly take command and quieten the men. The police would be there with drawn revolvers, and there were often shootings and knifings. Mother would be so afraid of something happening to him. The men would never turn on him, but she was afraid a stray bullet might hit him.{d-1}

In 1913 Urry{apos}s conciliatory skills failed to prevent a doomed strike by the street railwaymen{apos}s union against the electric railway system of Port Arthur and Fort William. Violence on the part of immigrant sympathizers, the shooting of an onlooker by the police, and the hiring of armed guards led militants to call an abortive sympathy strike. Despite his moderating influence, Urry earned the enmity of civic leaders for being {d-0}inflammatory.{d-1} As well, he clashed with the radical socialists of the Social Democratic Party of Canada over {d-0}recognition of the class struggle,{d-1} its efforts to organize the entire waterfront, and its promotion of a general strike, which Urry saw as a last resort after conciliation had failed. In July 1914 he resigned from the editorship of the Wage-Earner and stepped away from labour politics.

When war broke out the following month he withdrew from the trade union movement itself. In 1912 he had denounced jingoism and the arms race; in wartime he differed from labour by becoming {d-0}a staunch imperialist.{d-1} Enamoured of the Royal Navy and an avid sailor, he had instigated and designed Port Arthur{apos}s Sailors{s-1-unknown} Institute, which was built in 1913. After the war he founded the Port Arthur Navy League and he served for many years on its executive.

Besides his labour-related activities, Urry made countless contributions to the community at large. A member of Port Arthur{apos}s school board in 1910 and 1923–26, he did much work for it as an architect, often without charge. Concerned about working-class youth, he sat on the board{apos}s advisory vocational committee in 1917–19 and was its head in 1923–26. Against some opposition, he agitated successfully for a technical high school and, hoping to win the contract for its design, he resigned from the school board in 1926. The decision to give the job to an engineer specializing in grain-elevator design, Clarence Decatur Howe*, came as a {d-0}terrible shock{d-1} to Urry. He served as well as president of the Port Arthur Arts and Letters Club and on the library board and parks commission, and was president of the Thunder Bay Philharmonic Symphony Orchestra for six years before his death.

Frederick Urry left a modest architectural legacy of private dwellings and public buildings, particularly schools. His professional accomplishments, however, had been curtailed by his promotion of {d-0}the gospel of brotherly love{d-1} and the {d-0}co-operative commonwealth.{d-1}

[Only six copies of the Wage-Earner (Port Arthur [Thunder Bay], Ont.), the labour weekly founded and edited by Urry, have survived. The dates and locations for five of these issues are cited in Jean Morrison, {d-0}Frederick Urry: the wage-earner{apos}s advocate,{d-1} Thunder Bay Hist. Museum Soc., Papers and Records, 14 (1986): 8–22; a sixth issue (25 April 1913) has since been donated to the museum by the author. Urry also wrote a regular column for the Port Arthur Evening Chronicle, of which only a few scattered issues have survived because the paper{apos}s back files were destroyed when it was bought out by the Daily News in February 1916. j.m.]

GRO, Reg. of births, Ryde (Southampton), 6 June 1863; Reg. of marriages, Birmingham, 7 July 1891. Daily Times-Journal (Fort William [Thunder Bay]), 3 Oct. 1927. Jean Morrison, {d-0}The organization of labour at Thunder Bay,{d-1} in Thunder Bay: from rivalry to unity, ed. T. J. Tronrud and A. E. Epp (Thunder Bay, 1995), 120–41.

Charles-Amédée Vallée studied at the Collège de Lévis from 1861 to 1864 and then at the Académie Commerciale de Québec. On 16 May 1868, as a youth of 17, he embarked for Italy with the second detachment of Papal Zouaves, who were setting off to defend the Papal States in the face of the threat posed by Giuseppe Garibaldi{apos}s troops [see Édouard-André Barnard*]. He was promoted corporal, second class, on 26 March 1870 and quartermaster sergeant, second class, on 1 September. After Rome capitulated, he returned to Quebec in November. Pope Leo XIII would make him a knight of the Order of St Gregory the Great in recognition of his services. Vallée started on a career in the financial sector about 1872. After serving as a clerk in the Banque Nationale at Quebec, of which his father was a director, he became an accountant there. Around 1882 a promotion made him manager of the Montreal branch, a position he held until 1888. During the next two years he worked as a broker and was a member of the Montreal Stock Exchange.

In October 1890 the government of Honoré Mercier*, who was Vallée{apos}s close friend, appointed him deputy warden of the common jail in Montreal, known as the Pied-du-Courant. On 18 May 1891 he succeeded to the governorship, his predecessor, Louis Payette, having died on 29 April. The members of the Board of Inspectors of Prisons and Asylums of the Province of Quebec commented enthusiastically on his nomination: {d-0}He is, without any doubt, an organizer of great ability, and his appointment is one of the best which have ever been made.{d-1}

Vallée would indeed demonstrate not only ability as an administrator, but also professionalism and open-mindedness towards new correctional theories, most of which came from Europe. In August 1891 the Montreal jail held 225 inmates and Vallée had a staff of 30 under his orders. He instituted practices that were very different from those of his predecessor. Upon his appointment he began a complete reorganization of the prison staff by dismissing nearly half of the employees in order to remedy problems of all kinds (guards who were often drunk, traffic between guards and prisoners in cigarettes, alcohol, and other items). In their 1891 report the inspectors stated that {d-0}the new Governor has transformed the whole building, for the better without doubt, and has introduced a new order of things, which gives to the establishment an entirely new character, and makes of an old tumbledown building, an appropriate local fort, and one which is very ingeniously laid out.{d-1}

For Vallée, prison was a place for punishing and reforming offenders. The prison governor was therefore no longer a head jailer who made sure that individuals were kept locked up, but rather the penal system{apos}s administrator and {d-0}practical{d-1} thinker. Over the years Vallée produced numerous reports in which he put forward his views on such matters as the importance of solitary confinement in reforming a prisoner, the impossibility of applying this method in a common jail, the question of having prisoners work together at shoemaking, tailoring, carpentry, or sheet-metal work, and the distinction between accused and convicted detainees.

Although he had been a diligent pupil, Joseph Venne would later describe his studies with the Brothers of the Christian Schools in Montreal as rudimentary, giving him nothing more than a knowledge of grammar and history. Looking back, he would assess their teaching of linear and freehand drawing as weak, and the supply of books and instruments as minimal. When he went to see Henri-Maurice Perrault, a surveyor and architect, in May 1874, with drawings he later considered quite inadequate, he had never seen a T-square. It was only after working persistently for three or four weeks to produce new ones that he was accepted as an apprentice, at a salary of four dollars a month in the first year. His training would last for five years. Perrault was then at the height of his career and was working with Alexander Cowper Hutchison on the construction of the Montreal city hall. In 1880 he turned over management of his firm to his son Maurice*, who went into partnership with Albert Mesnard, the chief draftsman. Even before Perrault and Mesnard invited him to join them as a partner in 1892, Venne was playing an active role in the new company, which did extensive and varied work. Most of their commissions came from the Roman Catholic Church, government agencies, and the French-speaking middle class of the province of Quebec, but there were also some from British Columbia (St Andrew{apos}s Cathedral in Victoria, patterned on the church of Saint-Antoine in Longueuil) and from the United States (churches in Boston and Adams, Mass., and in Pawtucket, R.I.).

Venne reportedly was responsible, among other things, for the winning plan for the Université Laval in Montreal (1893–95) and for much of the work on the Monument National (1891–94). In Marges d{apos}histoire, Olivier Maurault* affirms that the most beautiful part of the church of Saint-Jacques (1889–91), the façade of the south transept on Rue Sainte-Catherine, was Venne{apos}s work, except for a few modifications on which Mesnard, who was his senior, is believed to have insisted. Venne also drafted the plans for the presbytery (completed in 1895) and the two successive buildings of the church of Sacré-Cœur-de-Jésus in Montreal (it had to be rebuilt after a fire in 1922). In the carved decor of the sacristy are many monograms as well as two faces – thought by some to be those of Venne and his son Émile – placed there as a signature. In this parish, where he had been married and would spend his whole life, Venne was also president of the Sacré-Cœur branch of the Association Saint-Jean-Baptiste de Montréal.

Since Venne had trained with Perrault and Mesnard in the late Victorian period, his work showed eclectic inspiration and a taste for decors burdened with a style that Gérard Morisset*, in L{apos}architecture en Nouvelle-France, would describe as {d-0}tasteless complication.{d-1} He nevertheless developed his art in an original way. In enlarging the parish church of Saint-Enfant-Jésus, in Montreal, whose front wing in the form of a stairway (1903) is its most spectacular feature, he made a very wide transept (1898) forming an octagon at its intersection with the nave – one of the few examples in Quebec of the blending of centred and basilican plans. To match an anterior bell-tower (now truncated and invisible), he added a new campanile on the south wall, at a 45-degree angle to emphasize the overall design. On an unusual and picturesque site, this tower was erected in 1910 to rehouse the bells used at the 21st International Eucharistic Congress, an event at which Venne had made a name for himself as the person in charge of decoration.

In 1899 Venne had constructed the nave of the parish church of Saint-Clément in Viauville ward and in 1913–14 he also built the chancel on the octagonal design he had used previously. This time, however, heavy beams gave a surprisingly vigorous effect to the oblique axes at the juncture of transept and nave. Impressive ceiling coffers emphasized the church{apos}s particular geometry and provided additional natural lighting.

In terms of technology, by the end of the 19th century Perrault, Mesnard, and Venne were among the most innovative architects in the use of steel. The iron and glass atrium of the People{apos}s Bank (1892–94), inspired by American models, showed how quickly they grasped the latest developments in construction and aesthetics. In 1907 Venne produced the plans for the École Salaberry on Rue Robin, which was built after a deadly fire destroyed Hochelaga School; it reportedly was the Montreal Catholic School Commission{apos}s first fireproof building made of concrete.

In addition to practising his profession, Venne made every effort to promote it and help it move ahead. From 1895 to 1899 he taught public courses in construction and architecture at the Monument National under the auspices of the Council of Arts and Manufactures of the Province of Quebec. His many lectures bore witness to his {d-0}broad and varied knowledge,{d-1} as La Presse would put it on 3 Sept. 1910. They dealt with such topics as {d-0}archaeology,{d-1} {d-0}principles of architectural composition,{d-1} {d-0}internal administration of architectural firms,{d-1} {d-0}aesthetic values of mouldings and contours,{d-1} and with the buildings he had visited during the course of his travels in Europe, especially Italy. In 1890 he had helped found the Province of Quebec Association of Architects. Venne must have earned the respect of his colleagues, for they elected him to the council in 1893, and named him secretary from 1894 to 1898, second vice-president in 1899, and first vice-president in 1901. Elected president in 1902, in 1912 he became the first person to win this office a second time. From 1906 to 1920 he served almost continuously as examiner for candidates seeking admission to the association. He participated in numerous working groups on subjects as varied as the administration of the association and urban beautification. In 1899 he proposed that a committee on historic monuments be set up to gather information about early architecture. The project materialized in 1909 with the support of the architect William Sutherland Maxwell, brother and partner of Edward. In 1911 Venne was a member, along with Joseph-Alcide Chaussé*, of a commission formed to revise the building regulations for the city of Montreal. Several of his plans were displayed in collective exhibitions at the Royal Canadian Academy of Arts in 1882 and 1913, and at the Art Association of Montreal in 1905, 1908, and 1913. With his interest in history, composition, construction, urbanism, and management, Venne was the very model of an accomplished professional.

There were a number of other architects named Venne, beginning with Joseph{apos}s two sons, Adrien and Émile. Adrien would also become known as an historian. Émile, who trained at the École des Beaux-Arts in Paris, would teach at the School of Fine Arts in Montreal and the École Polytechnique. Some of Joseph{apos}s second and third cousins and grandchildren were also members of the profession; Alphonse Venne*, who would produce an impressive amount of work in the Montreal region, is the best example. Viewed within the framework of all these family ties and business connections, Joseph Venne was at the centre of one of the longest lasting and most outstanding professional networks in the history of Quebec. He left a substantial number of buildings and contributed significantly to the development of the architectural profession in Quebec.

ANQ-M, CE601-S7, 15 juin 1858, 17 oct. 1882; P124-16, 4 oct. 1894–14 juill. 1908; 17, 1er sept. 1908–7 janv. 1926; 22, 1890–1925; 35. Arch. de la Chancellerie de l{apos}Archevêché de Montréal, 968 (dossier Claude Turmel), 355.122 (extraits des registres paroissiaux relatifs aux bâtiments de la fabrique de la paroisse Saint-Enfant-Jésus). Arch. Nationales (Paris), AJ52 (fonds de l{apos}École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts), dossier 308. Arch. Paroissiales, Saint-Clément (Montréal), Plans. {d-0}M. Joseph Venne,{d-1} La Presse, 3 sept. 1910: 3. {d-0}Montréal va s{apos}embellir d{apos}une nouvelle église,{d-1} La Presse, 22 avril 1911: 16. La Presse, 11 mai 1925. W. H. Atherton, Montreal, 1534–1914 (3v., Montreal, 1914), 3. Soraya Bassil, {d-0}Document orientation-concept, résumé critique des recherches et divisions thématiques{d-1} (travail dirigé, univ. du Québec à Montréal, 1999). Canadian album (Cochrane and Hopkins), 2: 326. Le diocèse de Montréal à la fin du dix-neuvième siècle . . . (Montréal, 1900). Olivier Maurault, Marges d{apos}histoire (3v., Montréal, 1929–30), 2. Gérard Morisset, L{apos}architecture en Nouvelle-France (Québec, 1949).

VERVILLE, ALPHONSE (baptized Joseph-Alpha Varville, on 20 Jan. 1930 he gained recognition from the Superior Court of Quebec for the name by which he had always been known), plumber, union leader, and politician; b. 28 Oct. 1864 in the Montreal parish of Notre-Dame-de-Grâce, son of Alfred Varville, a blacksmith, and Pamela Leduc; m. 1 Jan. 1884 Joséphine Mailhot of Saint-Norbert-d{apos}Arthabaska, Que.; they had no children; d. 20 June 1930 in Montreal and was buried there in the cemetery of Le Repos Saint-François-d{apos}Assise on 23 June.

From 1900 Verville rose rapidly within the Quebec and Canadian union hierarchies. Elected to a term as vice-president of the Federated Trades and Labor Council of Montreal in 1900, he served as president from 15 Oct. 1903 until January 1905. Founded in 1897, the council – which officially became the Montreal Trades and Labor Council (MTLC) in 1903 – brought together craft union locals in the Montreal area. Its mandate was to defend the rights of union members at the municipal government level. At the time of Verville{apos}s election as the council{apos}s president, he held the positions of secretary-treasurer and business agent of the plumbers{s-1-unknown} union as well, and he was organizer for Canada on behalf of the International Association of Journeymen Plumbers, Steamfitters, and Gas Fitters.

In 1903 Verville was also elected vice-president of the Quebec provincial executive committee of the Trades and Labor Congress of Canada. Founded in 1883 by the Knights of Labor and the craft unions [see Charles March*], the TLC sought primarily to make the federal government aware of the problems of workers, so that it would enact laws favourable to them. On 23 Sept. 1904, at the annual convention of the TLC in Montreal, Verville was elected president. He would retain the office for five successive terms, but refused to stand for re-election at the convention held at Quebec in 1909. A wide variety of issues was dealt with during his presidency, the most significant being working-class political action, which was discussed at the important Victoria convention in 1906 and which would lead to the creation of an independent labour party; strengthening the TLC{apos}s stand against immigration; the nationalization of some public utilities, such as railways; and the demand for an eight-hour day for all workers.

Verville ardently supported craft unionism, which emphasized the organization of labour on the basis of the interests of a specific group of workers, namely, skilled tradesmen. Like others backing this strategy, he wanted to improve the material conditions of workers through collective bargaining, but within the capitalist system. To achieve this goal, the unionization of skilled tradesmen was fundamental, since they were the group that could attain the most favourable balance of power with employers. This approach to union activity, which Verville would champion throughout his career, ran counter to that of the Knights of Labor, which wanted, among other things, to organize the working class as a whole, not just skilled tradesmen. It would lead Verville to call for the expulsion of the Knights from the TLC at the convention held in Berlin (Kitchener), Ont., in 1902. In regard to labour relations, Verville promoted conciliation and harmony between capital and labour, with the state intervening as arbitrator in the event of disputes. Lastly, he advocated working-class political action, but of an independent kind, outside the framework of traditional political parties such as the Liberals and the Conservatives. On the other hand, to avoid rifts and dissension among union members, Verville declared his support for the creation of a labour party without official ties to organized labour. At the 1906 convention of the TLC, therefore, he opposed its socialist wing, which wanted workers to join the Socialist Party of Canada. After 1909 Verville continued to attend TLC conventions as a delegate from the plumbers{s-1-unknown} union. In 1915 he would even be elected to represent the TLC at the Trades Union Congress of Great Britain.

In Verville{apos}s view the most effective way to improve the working and living conditions of the working class was by lobbying public bodies, a task that could be carried out by trade union organizations such as the MTLC and the TLC, but more direct means, such as political action, could also be used. Hence, while serving as president of these two organizations, he decided to run in the provincial election of 25 Nov. 1904 as the Labour party candidate in Hochelaga. Disappointed with the policies of the Liberal governments of Félix-Gabriel Marchand* and Sir Wilfrid Laurier*, in whom workers had placed high hopes, a group of them from Montreal under the leadership of Joseph-Alphonse Rodier*, a union leader and labour columnist, had founded this party in 1899 to defend the interests of the working class. Taking its inspiration from the British Labour party, its program included measures that then seemed radical to some people: free and compulsory education, abolition of the property qualification for candidates in municipal elections, a law holding employers responsible for accidents in the workplace, and state sickness and old age insurance. Waging an effective campaign, Verville also attacked the trusts and called for the creation by the provincial government of a Quebec department of labour.

Supported by the union organizations of the city and by the newspaper La Presse, which called on the public to vote for the labour candidate, Verville benefited from the failure of the weakened Conservative party to field a candidate in the working-class riding of Hochelaga. He gave his Liberal opponent, Jérémie-Louis Décarie, a run for his money, polling 4,123 votes to Décarie{apos}s 5,462. Encouraged by this result, Verville returned to the fray in a federal by-election held in February 1906 in the riding of Maisonneuve following the sudden death of cabinet minister Raymond Préfontaine*. Opposing the Liberal candidate Louis-Ovide Grothé, a cigar manufacturer who had incurred the unionists{s-1-unknown} hatred, Verville won this largely working-class riding by a little more than 1,000 votes. He would be re-elected in Maisonneuve in 1908 and 1911 and Saint-Denis in 1917.

Verville{apos}s speeches in the House of Commons dealt mainly with issues related to the field of labour. Faithful to the TLC{apos}s program, he vigorously objected to immigration, arguing that the constant arrival of workers in urban centres created pressure to reduce wages. Satisfied with the Immigration Act enacted by the Liberal government in 1910, Verville stopped making speeches on this subject. In 1907 the Canadian parliament had passed the Industrial Disputes Investigation Act, which provided for compulsory conciliation in public utilities and in the mining sector. Although the TLC approved the legislation at its 1907 convention, even before the bill was passed Verville had stated in the house, {d-0}I am strongly in favour of that, because I have always advocated a closer connection between capital and labour, that is the only way in which we can avoid strikes.{d-1} It was, however, on the question of shortening the working day for those employed in public works (then from nine to twelve hours long) that Verville concentrated most of his energy. He introduced his bill on the eight-hour day during the 1906–7 session, but it ended before the measure was given second reading. He renewed his attempt during the next two sessions, with no greater success. During the 1910–11 session the bill finally received third reading, but with substantial amendments that weakened it. Believing that the general principle of his bill was respected, Verville endorsed the new version without consulting the leaders of the TLC, who criticized him severely for this action. The house passed it on 13 Feb. 1911, but ultimately it was rejected by the Senate. Verville{apos}s decision to support the amendments was not surprising in view of a statement he had made during the 1906–7 session, in the course of a debate on industrial disputes: {d-0}What I want is legislation. Give me bad legislation if you will, but give me legislation, for I would rather have bad legislation than no legislation at all; bad legislation we can amend, but if we have no legislation we cannot improve it.{d-1} He presented his bill again in 1912 and 1914, under the Conservative government of Robert Laird Borden*, and withdrew it for good in 1914, since it had not reached second reading. During the conscription debate in the spring and summer of 1917, Verville stated that working people did not want conscription, and he predicted there would be a general strike in Canada if this measure was passed.

Despite the repeated promises he had made from the time of his 1904 electoral campaign to remain independent of the {d-0}old political parties,{d-1} Verville soon realized that, as the only labour representative, he was isolated in Ottawa. Because the rigidity of the two-party political system left him little option but to align himself with an existing party, he chose to make common cause with Laurier{apos}s Liberals, finding their positions came closest to the interests he was defending. In Montreal labour circles his election had raised high expectations. There was soon criticism and after 1907 it became vicious. While some people were satisfied with what Verville had achieved in Ottawa, others thought he was acting {d-0}exactly like a Liberal mp{d-1} and was not upholding the Labour party program. To ensure that Verville would be re-elected in the 1908 federal election, Laurier asked his candidate, Victor Gaudet, to withdraw from the race. From then on the Liberal party never ran an accredited candidate against Verville. In 1911 the alliance became official: Verville campaigned in favour of Laurier{apos}s cherished policy of commercial reciprocity with the United States, on a Liberal-Labour ticket.

While holding his seat in Ottawa, Verville accepted an appointment to the Administrative Commission of the City of Montreal, which Premier Gouin had set up on 9 Feb. 1918, after the board of commissioners was abolished. The mandate of the five-member commission, which was headed by notary Ernest-Rémi Décary*, was to manage the overall municipal administration and put the city{apos}s finances in order. Restricting the powers of the mayor and city council, slashing expenses by dismissing a number of municipal bureaucrats, and increasing the city{apos}s powers of taxation, the commission soon became very unpopular with both citizens and elected officials. In view of this situation, the provincial government had to bring the commission{apos}s work to an end in 1921, a year before its term was up. Verville{apos}s appointment to the commission was not his first position in municipal affairs. In 1916 he had been named to the Montreal Tramways Commission, which was to draw up a new public transport contract between the Montreal Tramways Company and the city of Montreal. His work on the two commissions was sharply criticized by a number of labour activists. One of the criticisms was that he had not upheld the policy of nationalizing public utilities, which was strongly supported by the labour movement. Because of his political conduct, Verville eventually was expelled from the Quebec provincial section of the Canadian Labor Party at its meeting on 1 Dec. 1918.

It was not only the deliberations of the Administrative Commission of the City of Montreal that came to an end in 1921: so did Verville{apos}s political career. He chose not to run in the federal election of 6 Dec. 1921. After nine years in retirement, he died on 20 June 1930 in Montreal, at the age of 65, following stomach surgery.

On the whole, Alphonse Verville{apos}s political career seems not to have been an unqualified success. Isolated as the only labour mp in Ottawa, he soon joined the Liberal camp, partly because he needed the support of the party in power to get his eight-hour-day bill passed, and partly because the ideas he advanced were consonant with those of the Liberals. Verville{apos}s political path was similar to that of other Canadian trade unionists (such as Ralph Smith*, a miner from Nanaimo, B.C.) who were elected under the Labour party{apos}s banner early in the 20th century and who would also move to Laurier{apos}s Liberals. Disappointed in the position taken by Verville, who had not managed to reconcile working-class expectations with the demands of politics, a number of Labour party activists quit provincial and federal politics at the end of the 1910s in favour of a more active role on the municipal scene. Verville was not solely responsible for this shift. The many defeats suffered by labour candidates in provincial and federal elections, along with the striking victory of carpenter Joseph Ainey* at the board of commissioners of Montreal in 1910 and the abolition of the property qualification in 1912, encouraged this swing to municipal affairs.

ANQ-M, CE601-S6, 29 oct. 1864. Labor World (Montreal), 28 June 1930. People{apos}s Voice (Montreal), 23 Dec. 1905. BCF, 1922. Can., House of Commons, Debates, 1906–7. Geoffrey Ewen, {d-0}International unions and the workers{s-1-unknown} revolt in Quebec, 1914–1925{d-1} (phd thesis, York Univ., North York [Toronto], 1998). Éric Leroux, {d-0}La carrière polyvalente de Gustave Francq, figure marquante du syndicalisme international au Québec (1871–1952){d-1} (thèse de phd, univ. de Montréal, 1999); {d-0}Les syndicats internationaux et la commission royale d{apos}enquête sur l{apos}éducation de 1909–1910,{d-1} RCHTQ [Regroupement des Chercheurs-Chercheuses en Hist. des Travailleurs et Travailleuses du Québec], Bull. (Montréal), 23 (1977), no.1: 5–28. P. K. Malloy, {d-0}Alphonse Verville, {s-0}Liberal-Labour{s-1-unknown} member of parliament, 1906–1914{d-1} (ma thesis, Univ. of Ottawa, 1970). Jacques Rouillard, {d-0}L{apos}action politique ouvrière au début du 20e siècle,{d-1} in Le mouvement ouvrier au Québec, sous la dir. de Fernand Harvey (Montréal, 1980), 185–213. Trades and Labor Congress of Canada, Report of the proc. of the annual convention ([Ottawa]), 16 (1900)–25 (1909).

It was Quebec City{apos}s various military ensembles that gave Vézina his first suitable opportunities. In 1866 he enrolled in the School of Military Instruction. The following year he joined the 9th Battalion Volunteer Militia Rifles, playing the baritone in the regimental band, and he would serve as its bandmaster from 1868 to 1879. Over the years he would lead a great many bands; in particular, he founded Notre-Dame de Beauport{apos}s in 1874 and those of Montmorency (Beauport) and Charlesbourg in 1875. In addition, he gave lessons in various wind instruments. With a very good ear, an unusual intuitive understanding of music, and a remarkable capacity for work, Vézina brought most of these ensembles to a high level of performance. In 1878, for example, the Notre-Dame de Beauport one took first prize in a competition held at the Victoria Skating Rink in Montreal in which musicians from all across Canada took part. In 1879 Vézina was appointed bandmaster of the Garrison Artillery{apos}s B Battery band (which in 1922 became that of the Royal 22nd Regiment). He gave up this position to lead the Saint-Jean-Baptiste de Québec cadet band in 1912.

It was in 1880, during celebrations on Saint-Jean-Baptiste day at the Pavillon des Patineurs in Quebec City, that Vézina conducted the first performance of {d-0}O Canada{d-1} (with words by Adolphe-Basile Routhier* and music by Calixa Lavallée), which a century later would be chosen officially as the country{apos}s national anthem. In the same year he was made a professor of music at the Petit Séminaire de Québec.

Vézina became a member of the Académie de Musique de Québec in 1887 and he would serve as its president in 1914–15. In this period his abilities reportedly were recognized by many leading musical figures of the day, including Carlo Alberto Cappa and Walter Damrosch, both of New York, who are believed to have urged him to move to the United States. But Vézina always refused to leave his native city. The following years were marked by important events. In 1894 and 1896 he conducted the concerts given at the winter carnival, among which the most important was undoubtedly the one held on 27 Jan. 1896 at the Quebec Drill Hall. At this time Vézina also conducted the ensembles that accompanied the famous singer Emma Albani [Lajeunesse], notably in her performances of Casta diva from Bellini{apos}s opera Norma, and the Inflammatus from Rossini{apos}s Stabat mater. He became organist for the parish of St Patrick in 1896, a post he would leave in 1912. On 16 Sept. 1901 Vézina conducted a gala concert on Dufferin Terrace on the occasion of a visit by the Duke and Duchess of Cornwall. In June 1902, again at the Quebec Drill Hall, he conducted three concerts held to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the founding of the Université Laval.

These concerts met with success and stirred up enthusiasm. Thus Vézina was invited by three young musicians – Louis-Léonidas Dumas, Joseph Talbot, and his own son, Raoul Vézina – to become the first music director of the Orchestre Symphonique de Québec, which was founded on 3 or 5 Oct. 1902. On 23 Feb. 1903 the orchestra hired some 15 new players, most of whom were professionals and members of either the regimental band or the Septuor Haydn. Known henceforth as the Société Symphonique de Québec – a name retained until 25 June 1942 – this orchestra is the oldest in Canada and it was still performing at the beginning of the 21st century. He quickly built it into an ensemble whose excellence gained national recognition. As early as 1907 the orchestra won first prize in the inaugural music and drama competition organized in Ottawa by Lord Grey*, the governor general of Canada. The judge on that occasion, George Whitefield Chadwick, who was one of the most distinguished composers in the United States and director of the New England Conservatory of Music in Boston, declared that he was most favourably impressed by the quality of the Société Symphonique de Québec{apos}s playing. Critics from Ottawa and elsewhere were unanimously full of praise. The following year Vézina was president of the music committee for the city{apos}s tercentennial celebrations, and he conducted several major concerts given by the Société Symphonique de Québec in this connection.

In the course of his 22 years as music director, Vézina led his orchestra to outstanding progress. Until 1914, like the world{apos}s great professional ensembles, the Société Symphonique de Québec, which had some 60 musicians, presented subscription concerts; three were given each year in the Auditorium de Québec, a hall inaugurated by Vézina and his orchestra in 1903 that would later become the Théâtre Capitole. The Société Symphonique de Québec also performed at the annual meetings of the Société du Parler Français au Canada [see Stanislas-Alfred Lortie*], an association that lasted until 1946, as well as at many celebrations of a religious or social nature. The orchestra was, moreover, invited to perform in other parts of the country, notably in Ottawa, Montreal, Sherbrooke, and Montmagny.

Prior to 1900 Vézina had composed many works for military bands, wind ensembles, and symphony orchestras, pieces for various instruments including piano and flute, songs, and a few choral works. He also did a number of arrangements of other composers{s-1-unknown} works. In later years he would create the musical scores for three comic operas first performed by the Société Symphonique de Québec in 1906, 1910, and 1912 respectively: Le lauréat (libretto by Félix-Gabriel Marchand*), Le rajah (libretto by Gaston Morelles, pseudonym of Benjamin Michaud), and Le fétiche (libretto by Alex Villandray and Louis Fleur, pseudonyms of Alexandre Plante and Antonio Langlais). A fourth lyric work, La grosse gerbe, adapted from a poem by Pamphile Le May*, has remained unfinished.

Joseph Vézina was one of the principal forces behind the musical life in the provincial capital for more than half a century. An indefatigable worker, a first-rate organizer, and an exacting, versatile, and undeniably gifted musician, he remains a living presence through his most renowned achievement, the Orchestre Symphonique de Québec, which is now considered one of Canada{apos}s leading orchestras.

There are documents pertaining to Joseph Vézina in several archival collections. The ANQ-Q holds the Fonds Joseph Vézina (P326) and the Fonds Orchestre symphonique de Québec (P519). The Fonds Joseph Vézina at the Conservatoire de Musique de Québec has manuscript copies of his works. At MCQ-FSQ, information about Vézina will be found in the Journal du séminaire (MS 34) and the Journal du conseil des plumitifs (MS 13) as well as in the series SME 9, which contains some of the subject{apos}s letters; also worth consulting is an unclassified musical fonds, which contains scores written by Joseph and his son Raoul.

ANQ-Q, CE301-S1, 4 août 1835, 12 juin 1849, 24 sept. 1872. Le Devoir, 6 oct. 1924. Nicole Brown, {d-0}Joseph Vézina (1849–1924), vie, œuvre et catalogue{d-1} (mémoire de ma, Conservatoire de Musique de Québec, 1994). Vivianne Émond, {d-0}{s-0}Musique et musiciens à Québec: souvenirs d{apos}un amateur{s-1-unknown} de Nazaire LeVasseur (1848–1927): étude critique{d-1} (mémoire de m.mus., univ. Laval, Québec, 1986). Encyclopedia of music in Canada (Kallmann et al.), 1366–67. Bertrand Guay, Un siècle de symphonie à Québec: l{apos}Orchestre symphonique de Québec, 1902–2002 (Québec, 2002). Odile Magnan, {d-0}La musique à Québec, 1908–1918: à travers l{apos}Action sociale et l{apos}Action catholique{d-1} (mémoire de ma, univ. Laval, 1980).

Little is known about Placide Vigneau{apos}s childhood and adolescence, except that he developed his intellectual curiosity thanks to the teachers in his home town on the Îles de la Madeleine. Following in the footsteps of his father, who was of Acadian origin, he learned the trade of deep-sea fishing. In November 1858 his family and a few other people moved from the Îles de la Madeleine to the new village of Pointe-aux-Esquimaux on the north shore of the St Lawrence. A fisherman, labourer, and shipowner, Placide worked with the rest of his family to eke out a living. Aboard his father{apos}s schooner, he began as cabin-boy and keeper of the ship{apos}s log, and later became its captain. In the spring of 1880, after working on many different crews, he would become the owner of his own schooner, the Phoenix.

And so, as he approached the age of 50, Placide Vigneau embarked on a career that would give him more free time. Life on an island also provided the isolation that is sometimes necessary for a writer. Furthermore, Vigneau now began to enjoy relative financial security, with an annual salary of about $600 (from which he had to pay his assistant). While continuing to keep his journal, he wrote about an ever-widening range of subjects, including genealogy, folklore, natural medicines, and linguistics, and set down many accounts of events such as supernatural occurrences, shipwrecks, and visits from scientists. He telegraphed numerous dispatches of a practical nature to the Family Herald and Weekly Star in Montreal. By lending his manuscripts, he collaborated, along with Abbé Victor-Alphonse Huard, Paul Hubert, Bishop Charles Guay, and other authors, in producing works on the history of the north shore of the St Lawrence, the Îles de la Madeleine, and Acadia. For those interested in the history of these regions or in maritime history, Vigneau{apos}s work is of immeasurable value.

Placide Vigneau is the author of {d-0}Histoire ou journal de la Pointe aux Esquimaux,{d-1} ANQ, Rapport ([Québec]), 1968: 5–294; {d-0}Les morses dans le golfe Saint-Laurent,{d-1} Le Naturaliste canadien (Québec), 35 (1908): 140–42; Un pied d{apos}ancre; journal de Placide Vigneau . . . (Sillery, Qué., 1969); and Variétés de diverses farces et autres faits ridicules arrivés à la Pointe ou encore à des habitants de la Pointe, Guy Côté et Pierre Frenette, compil. ([Baie-Comeau, Qué.], 1996).

ANQ-BSLGIM, P11; ZQ1-S321, 2 oct. 1842. ANQ-CN, CE901-S3, 9 janv. 1865, 23 nov. 1869; CE901-S6, 27 juin 1887; P1; P19; P48; P53. Arch. du Séminaire de Chicoutimi (Chicoutimi, Qué.), C-11 (fonds de l{apos}abbé V.-A. Huard), dossiers 328–31, 333. Antoine Bernard, {d-0}Placide Vigneau et la Côte Nord,{d-1} L{apos}Évangéline (Moncton, N.-B.), 29 sept. 1931. Le Soleil, 5 mars 1926. Anthologie de textes littéraires acadiens, Marguerite Maillet et al., édit. (Moncton, 1979). Georges Arsenault, Complaintes acadiennes de l{apos}Île-du-Prince-Édouard ([Montréal], 1980), 119, 123–24, 126–29. René Bélanger, La Côte Nord dans la littérature; anthologie (Québec, 1971), 71–75. Antoine Bernard, Histoire de la survivance acadienne, 1755–1935 (Montréal, 1935), 5, 372–78; La renaissance acadienne au XXe siècle (Québec, [1949]). {d-0}Capture d{apos}un morse,{d-1} Le Naturaliste canadien, 35: 49–51. Anselme Chiasson, Les îles de la Madeleine: vie matérielle et sociale de l{apos}en premier ([Montréal], 1981); Les légendes des îles de la Madeleine (2e éd., Moncton, 1976). Gérard Gallienne, {d-0}Placide Vigneau,{d-1} Soc. Canadienne de Généalogie, Cahier spécial A (Québec), janvier 1969: 3–24. Charles Guay, Lettres sur l{apos}île d{apos}Anticosti à l{apos}honorable Marc-Aurèle Plamondon, juge de la Cour supérieure, en retraite, à Artabaskaville (Montréal, 1902), 131–40. V.-A. Huard, Labrador et Anticosti: journal de voyage, histoire, topographie, pêcheurs canadiens et acadiens, indiens montagnais (Montréal, 1897), 188–89, 253–54. Paul Hubert, Les îles de la Madeleine et les Madelinots (Rimouski, Qué., 1926), 11, 111–17, 132–33, 148–52. Chantal Naud, Chronologie des îles de la Madeleine . . . (L{apos}Étang-du-Nord, Qué., 1993), 61–62. La paroisse acadienne de Havre-Saint-Pierre célèbre, dans l{apos}action de grâce, son premier siècle d{apos}histoire, 1857–1957 (s.l., 1957). Carmen Roy, {d-0}Les Acadiens de la rive nord du fleuve Saint-Laurent,{d-1} National Museum of Canada, Contributions to Anthropology (Ottawa), 1961–62, part.ii: 155–98. Berchmans Scherrer, Un peu d{apos}histoire: Havre-Saint-Pierre ([Gallix, Qué., 1996]).

Augustus S. Vogt{apos}s German father had come to Upper Canada to escape the revolutionary turmoil of 1848. His Swiss mother had immigrated with her parents in the 1830s. Vogt grew up in Elmira, Ont., in a household where the children followed their mother{apos}s Lutheranism. Their Roman Catholic father, a hotel-keeper, also built organs, including one locally for St James Lutheran Church, which appointed Augustus organist at age 12. After studying in Hamilton, in 1878 he became organist of First Methodist Church in St Thomas. He completed his musical training at the New England Conservatory of Music, Boston, in 1881–84 and at the Leipzig Conservatory in Germany in 1885–88, during which time the gifted youth composed a prelude and fugue for organ. On his return to Toronto in 1888, he established himself as organist-choirmaster of the prestigious Jarvis Street Baptist Church, a position he would hold until 1906. His conversion to the Baptist faith may have caused a rift with his father. Active as secretary of a short-lived college of organists in 1889–92 and as a teacher of piano, organ, and theory at the Toronto College of Music [see Frederick Herbert Torrington*], in 1892 he secured a similar post at the Toronto Conservatory of Music (Royal Conservatory of Music). He would later be named a fellow of the Royal College of Organists.

Throughout his career, Vogt had to negotiate the politics of Toronto{apos}s musical scene. The conservatory tested its own students, and staff who sat as examiners received fees. In the late 1890s Vogt and others opposed the use in Canada of the examinations of the Associated Board of the Royal Academy of Music and the Royal College of Music in London, England. Such external testing was unnecessary, they argued, with much invective and national huffiness over this {d-0}traffic in certificates.{d-1} In response to Vogt{apos}s insults, the board{apos}s local representative, Samuel Aitken, shot back in 1899 that if the conservatory were to have {d-0}sweated{d-1} Vogt for half his fees, {d-0}he might not now be putting up a new palatial residence in Bloor St.{d-1} Furthermore, he found it amusing that exception to {d-0}foreign{d-1} examination should be taken {d-0}by a gentleman who spells his name V O G T.{d-1} Vogt, a self-described {d-0}native Canadian and a loyal subject,{d-1} retorted that the board{apos}s president, the Prince of Wales, owned a family name (Saxe-Coburg-Gotha) {d-0}which is equally suggestive of such dainties as sauerkraut, limburger and lager.{d-1} Despite this objection, board examination continued for several more decades.

When a student in Leipzig, Vogt had been a regular listener to the choral singing at the famed Thomaskirche. In Toronto, a stickler for rehearsal, he strove for excellence in the unaccompanied singing of his choir at Jarvis Street Baptist, a standard that enhanced his local reputation as a choral director. In 1894 he founded the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir (now the oldest mixed-voice choir in Canada), and through his work with it he would attract international acclaim. Its initial membership of 75 was drawn largely from his church choir and the repertoire was mostly sung a cappella. At the inaugural concert in the Massey Music Hall on 15 Jan. 1895, there were 167 choristers, of whom 106 were women, all of them unmarried. Among the long-time members was Vogt{apos}s wife, whom he had conducted in a choir before their marriage. Vogt broke up the Mendelssohn Choir in 1897 only to reinstate it, astutely, in 1900; under its new constitution it would disband annually and, to keep standards high, each chorister would audition anew. Vogt expanded its repertoire to include works with orchestra and he showcased these pieces in annual festivals, beginning in 1902. The choir collaborated with the Chicago and Pittsburgh orchestras, among others, and its tours in the United States were unprecedented for any Canadian musical organization. The Mendelssohn quickly gained critical acclaim. {d-0}Choral music is a branch of the art in which Canadians seem to excel,{d-1} Vogt explained to the Musical Times (London). Ernest Alexander Campbell MacMillan* later noted in an appreciation that {d-0}the wonderful feeling for musical colour which never failed to appear in Vogt{apos}s performances, was compounded of an exceptional sense of rhythm and an almost uncanny sensitiveness to vocal tone.{d-1}

After a year{apos}s trip to Europe, in 1913 Vogt succeeded Edward Fisher* as musical director of the Toronto Conservatory, then situated on College Street. He resigned from the Mendelssohn Choir in 1917 owing to the exigencies of his new duties. As meticulous and visionary in administration as he was in conducting, he enlarged the student base and the number of local centres across Canada for the graded examinations of the conservatory. Vogt himself went west as an examiner until 1921. In 1914 a resident program in performance was introduced. Among the accomplished staff attracted by Vogt was James Healey Willan*, first as head of theory and then as vice-principal. Aided by Sir Byron Edmund Walker, who chaired the boards of both the conservatory and the University of Toronto, which awarded Vogt a d.mus. in 1906 – an honour Vogt cherished – he forged a strong liaison with the university, becoming first dean of its faculty of music in 1918 in addition to being principal of the conservatory. Under his tenure, the conservatory became part of the university through provincial legislation in 1919, and in 1924, with university approval, it took over another recognized local school, the Canadian Academy of Music.

Beyond his work as a conductor and administrator, Vogt wrote articles for Edwin Rodie Parkhurst{apos}s Musical Canada (Toronto) and for Musical Life and Arts (Winnipeg). He was a music critic for Saturday Night (Toronto) in the 1890s under the name of Moderato, and he contributed other pieces and letters in 1891, 1912–13, and 1922. His choral compositions included An Indian lullaby for women{apos}s voices and Crossing the bar in 1906 and The sea in 1911, and he prepared arrangements of The Lord{apos}s Prayer and Rule Britannia. He is best known for his Modern pianoforte technique (Toronto, 1900), his widely used Standard anthem book (2v., Toronto, 1894–c. 1909), and, with Willan, School and community song book (Toronto, 1922).

In 1918 Vogt began suffering from heart problems. Four years later his wife died of breast and liver cancer. He nevertheless carried on with his demanding dual position, but, he told his daughter in August 1926, {d-0}the almost deadly nature of my job about kills me.{d-1} The next month, while suffering from influenza, he died of a heart attack. In 1929 a memorial window commissioned by the Mendelssohn Choir was placed in St Paul{apos}s Anglican Church in Toronto, where he had been a member for many years.

AO, RG 22-305, no.55454; RG 80-5-0-188, no.8478; RG 80-8-0-858, no.6219; RG 80-8-0-1018, no.6042. Univ. of Toronto, Faculty of Music, Rare Books and Special Coll., MUS, MSS pam 004 (Vogt papers). UTA, A1973-0026/487(64). Canadian Statesman (Bowmanville, Ont.), 19, 26 Aug. 1891. Globe, 18 Sept. 1926. Toronto Daily Star, 18 Sept. 1926. An account of the Canadian protest against the introduction into Canada of musical examinations by outside musical examining bodies, ed. Canadian Protesting Committee (Toronto, 1899). Samuel Aitken, The case of the Associated Board ([n.p., 1899?]). Canadian men and women of the time (Morgan; 1898 and 1912). Canadian who{apos}s who, 1910. Dominion Musical Journal (Toronto), new ser., 1 (1891–92): 19, 25. Encyclopedia of music in Canada (Kallmann et al.), 1378–79. G. G. Jones, {d-0}{s-0}Exam wars{s-1-unknown} and the Toronto territorial connection,{d-1} Canadian Univ. Music Rev. (Toronto), 11 (1991), no.2: 51–67. National encyclopedia of Canadian biography, ed. J. E. Middleton and W. S. Downs (2v., Toronto, 1935–37). Saturday Night, 1891–1926. Standard dict. of Canadian biog.(Roberts and Tunnell), vol.1. Who{apos}s who in Canada, 1925/26.

A man of keen intellect and brash outspokenness, Frederick Wade received his early education in the public schools of Ottawa and Owen Sound, Ont. In 1879 he entered the ba program at the University of Toronto and he graduated in 1882. While there, he became an editor of the Varsity, the student journal. A strong Liberal, he also obtained an editorial position with the party{apos}s organ, the Globe. In 1883 he began legal studies with David Breakenridge Read. Later that year he moved to Winnipeg and continued his studies, probably with his uncle Charles Rann Wilkes, a lawyer in the city. In February 1884 Wade became a founding member of the Winnipeg Legal Club, which promoted the study of law, public speaking, and essay writing. In 1886 he was made the first president of the Young Liberal Association of Winnipeg, an office to which he was re-elected the following year.

Although Wade had been called to the Manitoba bar in 1886, he did not immediately practise; he became an editorial writer for William Fisher Luxton*{apos}s Manitoba Free Press. Wade{apos}s first editorial, {d-0}The bell wether,{d-1} depicted the supporters of the Conservative government of John Norquay* as sheep {d-0}who did not understand what legislation was about and cared less.{d-1} The vigorous writings of Wade and Luxton did much to ensure the defeat of the Norquay government in late December 1887 and the arrival of a Liberal administration under Thomas Greenway* in mid January 1888.

Wade devoted much time to developing English-language public education in Manitoba; in 1889 he had served on the Board of Education of Manitoba, the council of the University of Manitoba, and the Winnipeg School Board. With Attorney General Joseph Martin, he was a strong defender of the provincial Liberal government{apos}s policy in the Manitoba school question [see Greenway]. He wrote two pamphlets, National schools for Manitoba (Winnipeg, 1892) and The Manitoba school question (Winnipeg, 1895), in support of the government{apos}s position. In February 1897 he was appointed the commissioner to investigate charges laid against officers of the Stony Mountain Penitentiary. His obituary in the Province would claim that his report, dated 1 Sept. 1897, led to {d-0}considerable improvement{d-1} in conditions there.

In the provincial election of 1909 Wade had been an unsuccessful Liberal candidate for Vancouver City. He dissolved his law partnership in 1912 and became one of the founders of the Vancouver Sun, which soon claimed to be {d-0}the official organ of the Liberal Party.{d-1} As its editor and president of its publishing company, he led one of the most effective opposition newspapers in the province during the Conservative regime of Sir Richard McBride* and was noted for his unswerving support of the Liberal party.

In August 1918 Wade was appointed to succeed John Herbert Turner as agent general of British Columbia in London, England. On his arrival, one of his first actions was to provide beds in British Columbia House for Canadian soldiers on leave. An effective advocate for British Columbia and Canada, he held the position until he died in London from {d-0}muscular rheumatism{d-1} in 1924.

AO, RG 80-5-0-147, no.14161. BCA, GR-1415, file 10216; GR-2951, no.1932-09-470476; VF155, frames 3013–29. City of Vancouver Arch., Add. mss 44 (Wade family fonds). LAC, MG 26, G. Daily Colonist (Victoria), 14–15 Aug. 1918; 11, 14 Nov. 1924; 6 Aug. 1967 (Islander Magazine). Daily Klondike Nugget (Dawson, Y.T.), 15 July, 7 Oct., 11 Dec. 1901. Dawson Daily News (Dawson), 17 Oct. 1899–22 June 1901. Klondike Nugget (Dawson), 27 July 1898; 3 May, 3 June 1899. Manitoba Free Press, 12 Feb. 1885, 19 April 1898, 26 June 1909. Vancouver Daily Province, 12 April, 13 Aug. 1902; 16–17 June, 17 Sept. 1909; 14 Aug. 1918; 11 Nov. 1924; 20 May 1932; 15 Dec. 1934. Vancouver Sun, 14 Aug. 1918, 11 Nov. 1924, 4 March 1958. Victoria Daily Times, 10 Jan. 1903, 14 Aug. 1918, 10 Nov. 1924, 2 April 1929. Can., Commission to investigate, inquire into and report upon charges preferred against certain officers and guards connected with the Stony Mountain Penitentiary, Report ([Winnipeg?], 1897). Canada Gazette, 4 Sept. 1897, 8 May 1902. Canadian annual rev., 1910, 1912. The Canadian law list (Toronto), 1906–13. Canadian men and women of the time (Morgan; 1912). Directories, B.C., 1905; Manitoba, 1888, 1890–91, 1894; Ottawa, 1866, 1870–71; Toronto, 1883; Vancouver, 1908–10, 1912; Winnipeg, 1883–84. D. J. Hall, Clifford Sifton (2v., Vancouver and London, 1981–85). D. R. Morrison, The politics of the Yukon Territory, 1898–1909 (Toronto, 1968). Newspaper reference book. C. [L.] Porsild, Gamblers and dreamers: women, men, and community in the Klondike (Vancouver, 1998). Jim Wallace, Forty Mile to Bonanza: the North-West Mounted Police in the Klondike gold rush (Calgary, 2000). Who{apos}s who in western Canada . . . (Vancouver), 1911. Winnipeg Legal Club, Constitution . . . (Winnipeg, [1884?]).

Fortunately, at this juncture he was befriended by several perceptive and sympathetic Methodists. Inspired by their counsel and by participation in Methodist services, he eventually felt {d-0}his heart strangely warmed,{d-1} as had John Wesley, and he became {d-0}gloriously happy in the joy of salvation.{d-1} Despite his father{apos}s anger and grief, Wallace rejected the Westminster Standards, adopted by the Church of Scotland in 1647, and the prospect of becoming a Presbyterian minister. His Methodist friends quickly decided that he would be a valuable recruit for the Methodist ministry, and with their encouragement, he was accepted as a local preacher in 1873. Nathanael Burwash*, the founding dean of theology at Victoria College in Cobourg, hinted at an eventual appointment in the college. Wallace enrolled in Drew Theological Seminary in Madison, N.J., in 1873. After graduating in 1876, he proceeded to the University of Leipzig, then a leading institution in biblical studies attended by many foreign theological students, where he spent a year. He would return to Germany in 1911-12 to study at the University of Berlin and, in particular, to enrol in the course offered by the eminent and radical church historian Adolf von Harnack, whom he later privately described as a {d-0}Unitarian of the highest type.{d-1}

Wallace was ordained in the Methodist ministry in 1878 and subsequently appointed to pastorates in Peterborough, Toronto, and Cobourg, positions in which he acquired several prominent lay supporters and the friendship of Samuel Sobieski Nelles* and other members of the teaching staff at Victoria College. In 1887 he was appointed professor of New Testament literature and exegesis in Victoria{apos}s faculty of theology; he began teaching the following January. Wallace was a member of the faculty until 1920 and its dean from 1900. A respected and committed teacher and administrator, he helped to shape the development of the faculty and the theological outlook of many in the Methodist ministry in Canada, during a period of profound intellectual upheaval - a generation influenced by Darwin{apos}s writings, the development of higher criticism in biblical studies, and growing awareness that Christian theology is a transitory construction, as are other forms of human thought. By 1920 Victoria{apos}s faculty of theology and the Methodist community in general had come to accept the implications of contemporary biblical scholarship and were probably more distressed by the moral implications of World War I than by arguments about Genesis and prophecy.

At Victoria, from 1892 located in Toronto, this process of adjustment was marked by two controversial incidents and facilitated by Wallace{apos}s own approach to biblical studies and his constructive appointments to the faculty. He played no formal part in the first issue, the resignation of his friend and colleague George Coulson Workman* in 1891. He concluded, however, that Workman was a Unitarian and therefore unsuited to instruct Methodist theological students. Again, in 1909 his friend George Jackson, newly appointed professor of English Bible, was threatened with dismissal for stating publicly that the account of creation in Genesis is not a historical one. The dispute was resolved through a statement prepared by John Fletcher McLaughlin, Workman{apos}s successor, and signed by the entire faculty of theology. It declared that, {d-0}so long as our theological professors maintain their personal vital relation to Christ and Holy Scripture, and adhere to the doctrinal standards of our own church . . . they must be left free to do their own work,{d-1} a position later accepted by the General Conference of the Methodist Church.

A quiet, firm, but tolerant scholar, Wallace believed that the New Testament is {d-0}all alive with the experiences, difficulties, struggles, antagonisms, heresies, arguments, appeals, eloquence of the men and times to whom Jesus Christ spake.{d-1} Historical study enabled Christians better to understand {d-0}the living realities of the Bible and of Christian experience.{d-1} Wisely and perhaps deliberately, he left public controversy to others. His preaching was scholarly and balanced, and he welcomed changes in the role of the church. Wallace did not neglect his duties as a minister. He was a strong advocate of the establishment of the deaconess order in the Methodist Church and an effective supporter of union with the Presbyterian and Congregational churches, achieved in 1925. His home was a hospitable place where he welcomed each generation of students. Above all, he strove to make Victoria{apos}s {d-0}work in theology equal in scholarship to that of the very best institutions on this continent.{d-1} He left his colleagues and his students with a {d-0}memory of good words and good deeds{d-1} that would help constructively to shape the college{apos}s role in theological education.

In 1921 Francis Huston Wallace completed {d-0}Memories: a family record,{d-1} an autobiography for his children and their families that was never published. It bears an alternative title, {d-0}Memories of the manse, the parsonage, and the college.{d-1} The UCC-C holds two copies of this work, in fonds 3170. The first leaf of one of them is signed {d-0}my own copy F. H. W.{d-1} Wallace published a number of articles, some pamphlets, and a collection of lectures. These include {d-0}Methodist colleges: Drew Seminary,{d-1} Canadian Methodist Magazine (Toronto and Halifax), 9 (January-June 1879): 217-22; {d-0}University life in Germany,{d-1} Canadian Methodist Magazine, 17 (January-June 1883): 350-57, 422-31; Witnesses for Christ, or, a sketch of the history of preaching: lectures delivered under the auspices of the Theological Union of Victoria University, Cobourg, March, 1885 (Toronto, 1885); {d-0}The principles, methods and results of the biblical theology of the New Testament,{d-1} Acta Victoriana (Toronto), 19 (1895-96): 93-98, 156-62; The interpretation of the Apocalypse: a paper read at the Theological Conference of Victoria University, November, 1902 (Toronto, 1903); and {d-0}Our Bible: what it is and how to use it{d-1} (typescript, 1923; copy available at UCC-C).

UCC-C, Biog. file; Conference file. R. P. Bowles, {d-0}Late Reverend Professor F. H. Wallace: in memoriam . . . ,{d-1} New Outlook (Toronto), 20 Aug. 1930: 809. Michael Gauvreau, The evangelical century: college and creed in English Canada from the Great Revival to the Great Depression (Montreal and Kingston, Ont., 1991). D. B. Marshall, Secularizing the faith: Canadian Protestant clergy and the crisis of belief, 1850-1940 (Toronto, 1992). Margaret Prang, N. W. Rowell, Ontario nationalist (Toronto and Buffalo, N.Y., 1975). {d-0}Retirement of Dean Wallace,{d-1} Acta Victoriana, 44 (1919-20): 372-75. Tom Sinclair-Faulkner, {d-0}Theory divided from practice: the introduction of the higher criticism into Canadian Protestant seminaries,{d-1} Canadian Soc. of Church Hist., Papers (n.p.), 1980 [i.e. 1979]: 33-75.

Alexander Bannerman Warburton was born while his father James was a member of Prince Edward Island{apos}s first responsible, and reform, government. James had been born in Garryhinch, in the town of Portarlington (Republic of Ireland), and had come to the Island in 1834 to settle in Prince County. A. B. Warburton{apos}s given names commemorated Sir Alexander Bannerman*, a lieutenant governor of the Island. He grew up on the family farm in St Eleanors and was a pupil at Summerside Grammar School before attending St Dunstan{apos}s College in Charlottetown for two years in the late 1860s. A brilliant pupil, he carried on in 1869 to King{apos}s College in Windsor, N.S., where he won the Almon-Welsford prize in his first year for the highest aggregate average; it was also the highest aggregate ever achieved at King{apos}s. He won the General Williams prize in engineering as well.

After two years at King{apos}s, Warburton enrolled in the University of Edinburgh, where he studied arts and classics. He subsequently attended Walter Wren{apos}s school in London before taking his ba at Windsor in 1874. Upon returning to the Island, he was appointed secretary of the Queens County Liberal Association and read law with Louis Henry Davies. In 1876 he took a bcl from King{apos}s, collecting the Bishop{apos}s prize in the process, and then read law with George Baugh Allen at the Inner Temple in London. He was admitted to the bar of the Island in 1879, and would later become associated in practice first with Francis Joseph Conroy and then in turn with Charles Robert Smallwood, Donald Alexander MacKinnon, and D. Edgar Shaw. In 1897 he was appointed a qc. His major early contribution to the law was his collaboration with Francis Longworth Haszard* on a two-volume series of reports on the Island{apos}s Supreme Court cases, chiefly those of judge James Horsfield Peters*.

Active in local affairs, Warburton served as secretary-treasurer of the Charlottetown Driving Park and Exhibition Association of Prince Edward Island. An ardent conservationist, in 1884 he managed a project of tree planting in Charlottetown that beautified Queen and Rochford squares. In 1903 he would be appointed to the Island{apos}s three-member Forestry Commission, and by 1905 he had joined the Canadian Forestry Association, which he would serve as a provincial vice-president for two terms from 1910 to 1912. A member of St Paul{apos}s Anglican Church, he was for many years a delegate to synod. Warburton also acted as a director of the Patriot Publishing Company (which issued the leading Liberal newspaper on the Island) and of the Eastern Assurance Company of Canada. He was a governor of King{apos}s College in Windsor, and president of the Liberal Association of West Queens.

In 1890 Warburton ran as a free-trade Liberal candidate for the provincial legislature in Charlottetown, but was defeated. Successful in Queens County, 1st district, in 1891 and 1893, he was re-elected in 1897, when he briefly became leader of the party and premier of the province upon the resignation of Frederick Peters. While premier he struggled with the ongoing problems of finance and dominion-provincial relations without great success. Not even the presence of his former mentor, Sir L. H. Davies, in Ottawa as part of the Liberal government of Sir Wilfrid Laurier* was much help in obtaining assistance for the Island. Warburton{apos}s administration did not distinguish itself in any way, and even the biographical sketch he wrote for the 1912 edition of Henry James Morgan*{apos}s Canadian men and women of the time does not list any achievements of his premiership. Not surprisingly, in 1898 he stepped down, to be succeeded by Donald Farquharson*. He then took up an appointment as judge of the county court of Kings. Unlike most Island judges, however, Warburton did not give up his political activities. He was mayor of Charlottetown from 1901 to 1904 and a member of the city{apos}s Board of School Trustees in 1904. That same year he resigned his seat on the bench and ran unsuccessfully with Lemuel Ezra Prowse as a federal Liberal candidate in Queens.

Warburton had always had scholarly ambitions, and he published several historical and historical-literary studies in the Prince Edward Island Magazine and Acadiensis in the early 1900s. During the period after his defeat for the House of Commons, he collaborated with D. A. MacKinnon, then lieutenant governor, and others on a history of Prince Edward Island, to which were appended biographical sketches of over 500 prominent Islanders of the past and present. This sort of production was common for most Canadian provinces in the early years of the 20th century. Warburton wrote the opening {d-0}Historical sketch,{d-1} which took the story to 1830 but not beyond. He admitted to difficulty in doing his research. {d-0}No complete copies of the early records are to be had on the Island,{d-1} he noted. {d-0}The old newspaper files are very incomplete, and very few of the Journals of the House of Assembly, of the period treated of, are to be found.{d-1} Warburton relied heavily on the published researches of scholars such as William Francis Ganong* and John Caven. He had access to a few transcripts of off-Island records, but he did not travel to London to examine the Colonial Office files in the Public Record Office. Nor did he make any attempt to improve the Island{apos}s historical collecting.

Warburton in 1923 published A history of Prince Edward Island from its discovery in 1534 until the departure of Lieutenant-Governor Ready in A.D. 1831. This work expanded at length on his earlier historical sketch, producing an account limited by the same problems of evidence. Warburton used some transcripts at the Public Archives of Canada, but the book was based largely on contemporary accounts and secondary sources; it thus perpetuated many of the old mistakes of Island historiography. He wrote somewhat apologetically in his preface, {d-0}I am well aware that there is much that could be added to this volume, if one could find the scattered material.{d-1} Nevertheless, the book served until the 1970s as the fullest statement of the early history of the Island and, along with his court reports, represents Warburton{apos}s main claim to distinction.

Alexander Bannerman Warburton{apos}s writings include his History of Prince Edward Island, published in Saint John in 1923, and several articles: {d-0}Our educational system,{d-1} Prince Edward Island Magazine (Charlottetown), 2 (1900–1): 279–80; {d-0}The sea-cow fishery,{d-1} Acadiensis (Saint John), 3 (1903): 116–19, and Prince Edward Island Magazine, 5 (1903–4): 141–45; and {d-0}Great epochs in English literature and their causes: a sketch,{d-1} Prince Edward Island Magazine and Educational Outlook (Charlottetown), 6 (1904–5): 212–17. He also collaborated on two publications: Reports of cases determined in the Supreme Court, Court of Chancery, and Vice Admiralty Court of Prince Edward Island . . . , comp. with F. L. Haszard (2v., Charlottetown, 1885–86), and Past and present of Prince Edward Island . . . , ed. with D. A. MacKinnon (Charlottetown, [1906]).

Charlottetown Guardian, 15 Jan. 1929. Examiner (Charlottetown), 23 Aug. 1883, 26 Oct. 1889. Islander (Charlottetown), 5 Aug. 1870. Patriot (Charlottetown), 15 Jan. 1929. Canadian directory of parl. (Johnson). Canadian men and women of the time (Morgan; 1912). Who{apos}s who and why, 1915/16.

In 1869 George Warburton emigrated to the United States with his parents. The family settled in Brockport, N.Y., where George attended school until, as a young teenager, he abandoned formal education and worked with his father, a blacksmith. Soon after, he experienced conversion and served as a Wesleyan lay preacher on weekends, becoming known as {d-0}the boy preacher of Central New York.{d-1} Regretting his earlier refusal to continue in school, Warburton, a man of considerable intellectual ability, educated himself by reading widely.

Warburton{apos}s preaching brought him to the attention of the Young Men{apos}s Christian Association and he was sent to Newburgh, N.Y., for secretarial training. His long and varied YMCA career began a few months later with his 1880 appointment as general secretary of the association in Watertown. Warburton{apos}s accomplishments there soon led to a call to Syracuse, where he served as general secretary from 1881 to 1883. During these years Warburton impressed Cornelius Vanderbilt, who was looking for someone to take charge of New York City{apos}s Railroad YMCA. In 1884, at age 25, Warburton became secretary of this association, a position he held for the next quarter century.

Under Warburton{apos}s direction the association garnered widespread support from America{apos}s leading railways without ever becoming {d-0}the child of [the] companies.{d-1} His efforts on behalf of railway employees included establishment of the Railroad Building and Loan Association. From 1887 to 1908 Warburton{apos}s editorship of the monthly Railroad Men (New York) extended his influence well beyond the state{apos}s boundaries.

By 1909 the board of the Toronto YMCA, which included many of the city{apos}s leading financiers and businessmen, was looking for a man who could oversee a major expansion of work in their city. Warburton{apos}s record as a fund-raiser, his ability to relate well to captains of industry, and his success in attracting strong laymen to YMCA endeavours made him an ideal candidate. About to turn 50, he was persuaded to relocate to Toronto on the condition that the plans for expansion went ahead.

Within a year of taking over as general secretary of Toronto{apos}s Central YMCA, Warburton had helped the association{apos}s directors raise over $685,000, a sum that exceeded their goal and made possible the construction of three new YMCA buildings. When the expanded scope of YMCA work in Toronto necessitated creation of a metropolitan organization in 1911, Warburton was put in charge. That same year he supported the decision of Canada{apos}s YMCAs to declare their independence from the association{apos}s North American organization and establish a separate national entity. In 1913, as the representative of the Toronto body, he was one of Canada{apos}s delegates at the World{apos}s Conference of the YMCA in Edinburgh. While Warburton served as general secretary of the Metropolitan Toronto YMCA, memberships increased by well over 60 per cent and the city{apos}s population by about 40 per cent. The YMCA{apos}s rapid expansion owed much to Warburton{apos}s fund-raising abilities, initiatives in the field of educational programming, and support for the introduction of an employment agency.

Once war broke out in 1914, Warburton volunteered in a number of patriotic causes, including the Canadian Patriotic Fund and Victory Loan drives. In 1918 he was appointed general director of the national YMCA{apos}s Red Triangle Fund campaign. This, the largest appeal the YMCA had ever made in Canada, was carried out across the country over three days in May and raised almost three and a half million dollars. A few months later the Toronto YMCA gave Warburton a four-week leave so that he could, on behalf of the Canadian government, assist in the American YMCA{apos}s campaign to raise $175,000,000 for war work. Less than a decade after his arrival in Toronto he had been selected by the federal government to help {d-0}strengthen the good relations . . . between Canada and the United States.{d-1}

Warburton{apos}s philanthropic and public service during the 20 years he spent in Canada extended far beyond the YMCA. He served the broader community through his involvement in a range of religious, reform, and charitable organizations. In 1915-16 he had taken a six-month leave from the YMCA to serve as chief organizer of the Citizens{s-1-unknown} Committee of One Hundred{apos}s campaign to get the Ontario government of William Howard Hearst* to outlaw the sale of alcohol in the province, a goal achieved in 1916. Warburton was later asked to take charge of the Dominion Prohibition Committee{apos}s federal campaign but, even though the Toronto YMCA agreed to his doing so, time constraints and the {d-0}inadvisability of getting involved in political controversies{d-1} brought about his withdrawal from this fight early in 1917.

Warburton{apos}s impact on Canadian social norms did not stop when ill health forced him to resign from active YMCA service in 1922. In addition to renewed activity in the prohibition movement at the national and provincial levels, he now took on responsibilities in the fight to preserve the country{apos}s natural resources, putting his well-honed lobbying skills and networking abilities to work in this cause. A lifelong angler and long-time supporter of fish restocking programs, in 1925 he helped found the Toronto Anglers{s-1-unknown} Association, which began its operations by sponsoring a survey that documented the ill effects overfishing had already had on one of Canada{apos}s natural resources. By 1927, when he became president of the 2,500 member TAA, Warburton was convinced that the political force of a province-wide federation of anglers was needed to bring about government action and he pushed for its creation. His efforts bore fruit early the next year and delegates at the founding convention of the Ontario Federation of Anglers rewarded him with election as president. Under his direction the OFA called upon the government to hire experts to survey the state of the province{apos}s fish and wildlife populations and advise on necessary conservation measures. By the time of his death in February 1929 Warburton had alerted Ontarians about the need for conservation and mobilized public opinion in support of this cause.

LAC, MG 28, I 95. Y.M.C.A. of Greater Toronto, Minute-book no.3, 1906-18. Globe, 22 Feb. 1929. W. [W.] Adair, Memories of George Warburton ([New York], n.d.). C. W. Bishop, The Canadian Y.M.C.A. in the Great War . . . ([Toronto], 1924). Canadian annual rev., 1910, 1916, 1918. Canadian men and women of the time (Morgan; 1912). J. F. Moore, The story of the Railroad {d-0}Y{d-1} (New York, 1930). M. G. Ross, {d-0}The Toronto Y.M.C.A. in a changing community, 1864-1940{d-1} (ma thesis, Univ. of Toronto, 1947); The Y.M.C.A. in Canada: the chronicles of a century (Toronto, 1951).

Once he had recovered, Warren became an apprentice in a cigar factory, a growing industry in Montreal. In 1866 he went to complete his training in Saratoga (Schuylerville), N.Y. The manufacture of cigars involved skilful rolling of leaf tobacco. It was in the nearby city of Schenectady that Warren was introduced to trade unionism when he joined the Cigar Makers{s-1-unknown} International Union of America. A few months later he attracted attention and even became a member of the union{apos}s executive. Back in Montreal in 1870, he was immediately appointed secretary of the local cigar makers{s-1-unknown} union, which was affiliated with the CMIUA. This local union disappeared in the turmoil of the severe recession of 1873, but it was re-established the following year and Warren became its president at that time. In 1876 it was dissolved again, its members being unable to find work because of the widespread crisis in the cigar industry. The 1880s proved far more favourable to the growth of trade unionism and in 1880 Warren participated in reorganizing the cigar makers{s-1-unknown} union; it immediately requested an affiliation charter with the CMIUA, in which it constituted Local 58. He was the local{apos}s president in 1886 and 1887, and he even held office as third vice-president of the union{apos}s international executive in 1888 and 1889.

The fact that Warren belonged to an international trade union had not prevented him from being an activist within the Knights of Labor, an organization gaining more and more of a foothold in Quebec during the 1880s. Of American origin, it wanted to be open to all workers, not just to those who practised a trade. Quebec{apos}s first organizer of the Knights of Labor, Warren in 1883 had taken part in founding Ville-Marie Assembly 3484, which was reserved for francophones [see Olivier-David Benoît*]. He is thought to have established at least 23 assemblies in Quebec. In the 1890s he continued to belong to the assembly while being a member of the CMIUA. As early as 1883, Warren had also attempted to establish an organization that would bring the Montreal unions together and represent them in their dealings with municipal government. His hopes materialized in 1886 with the creation of the Central Trades and Labor Council of Montreal, which brought together the city{apos}s unions and Knights of Labor assemblies.

In 1888 Warren was called to testify before the royal commission on the relations of labour and capital regarding transformations in the Montreal cigar industry. He pointed out that cigar makers{s-1-unknown} salaries had been reduced by almost 50 per cent since the 1870s because of the employment of children in factories. Using moulds invented at the end of the 1860s, these children were able to make 5,500 cigars per day, far more than could a tradesman who meticulously rolled each one of them. He suggested that there be a law like the one in Ontario to limit the number of apprentices according to the number of cigar makers employed in a factory.

While president of his union, Warren had an idea that was to have great appeal: to celebrate Labour Day on the first Monday of September 1886, following the example of what increasingly was being done in American cities after the initial parades held in Toronto and New York in 1882. Eight of the unions in the city responded to his invitation, including the cigar makers{s-1-unknown} union, whose 350 members participated, carrying a banner with the slogan {d-0}Religion et patrie.{d-1} About 2,000 workers in all, grouped by trade and accompanied by two brass bands, marched through the downtown streets before the crowds lining the route. After the parade, the members{s-1-unknown} families were transported by boat to Elmwood Grove Park for a picnic, games, and sports competitions. Warren and a few other union leaders took advantage of the occasion to give speeches, encouraging the workers to maintain union solidarity and to vote for the labour candidates in the next elections. The celebration spread across Canada, and the federal government made it a public holiday in 1894. The parade in Montreal became very large-scale at the beginning of the 20th century, but it would disappear in 1953.

Warren represented Ville-Marie Assembly at the meetings of the Trades and Labor Congress of Canada in 1890, 1893, and 1894. In 1890 he was elected to its provincial legislative committee, which was responsible for submitting union workers{s-1-unknown} grievances concerning labour legislation to the Quebec government. In this forum and in his public pronouncements, he placed particular emphasis on two issues: the banning of child labour and free, public school education.

ANQ-M, CE601-S15, 19 avril 1873; S51, 26 oct. 1846. Montreal Daily Star, 21 Nov. 1883; 7 Sept., December 1886; 31 Aug. 1889. Montreal Herald, 1 Sept. 1894. La Patrie, 18 févr. 1903, 6 déc. 1919. La Presse, 6 sept. 1886; 30 nov., 4 déc. 1928; 6 déc. 1930. Le Repos du travailleur (Montréal), 1 sept. 1890. Can., Royal commission on the relations of labour and capital in Canada, Report (5v. in 6, Ottawa, 1889), Quebec, pt.1: 55–60. Charlemagne Rodier, {d-0}Le Conseil des métiers et du travail,{d-1} in Golden jubilee of the Montreal Trades and Labor Council, 1897–1947 . . . , ed. M.-E. Francq ([Montreal?, 1947?]), 13. Jacques Rouillard, {d-0}La fête du Travail à Montréal, expression de la solidarité ouvrière (1886–1964),{d-1} RCHTQ [Regroupement des Chercheurs-Chercheuses en Hist. des Travailleurs et Travailleuses du Québec], Bull. (Montréal), 22 (1996), no.2: 9–14; Les syndicats nationaux au Québec, de 1900 à 1930 (Québec, 1979), 33–36, 57, 94, 111.

Albert Durrant Watson{apos}s father and paternal grandparents emigrated from England in 1819 and his maternal grandparents did the same in 1836. According to a Canadian Medical Association obituary, Watson was {d-0}of a good family.{d-1} His father was a reformer in politics and a Methodist in religion. Watson, too, would be active in the Methodist Church of Canada. He was a member of the Euclid Avenue Church in Toronto, the Toronto Conference, the General Conference, the Board of Missions, and the executive of the Methodist Social Union of Toronto, and he served as treasurer of the church{apos}s department of temperance and moral reform. He also conducted a large Bible class for young people. It would be stated in the Commemorative biographical record of the county of York (1907) that he was {d-0}prominent in the ethical and sociological work of the church.{d-1} He was founder and president of the Ethological Association of Canada, president of the Canadian Purity-Education Association, {d-0}and a recognized teacher and leader in ethical ideals.{d-1}

Among other pursuits, Watson was an avid amateur astronomer. His papers in this field include {d-0}The reformation and simplification of the calendar{d-1} (1896), {d-0}Astronomy in Canada{d-1} (1917), and {d-0}Astronomy: a cultural avocation{d-1} (1918). He had joined the Astronomical and Physical Society of Toronto in 1892; it would develop into the Royal Astronomical Society of Canada, which he served as second and then first vice-president between 1910 and 1915 and as president in 1916 and 1917. In addition, he had many musical and literary interests. During the early decades of the 1900s several of his poems appeared in Methodist and Presbyterian hymnals. In 1908 he wrote an alternative wording for {d-0}O Canada{d-1} which was widely acclaimed. It is still used in many churches.

In 1908 Watson published The wing of the wild-bird and other poems. It was followed by Love and the universe, The immortals and other poems (1913), Heart of the hills (poems) (1917), The dream of God (a poem) (1922), and Woman: a poem (1923). Editor Lorne Albert Pierce* of the Ryerson Press, a friend of Watson{apos}s, wrote in 1923: {d-0}We anticipate a selected edition of his poetry very soon. This ought to establish him securely among the great names of our native literature.{d-1} The poetical works of Albert Durrant Watson appeared the following year. He was strongly influenced by the {d-0}confederation poets,{d-1} including Charles George Douglas Roberts* and William Bliss Carman, and echoed their themes of nationalism and romanticism. Like Carman, he was also drawn to mystical subjects.

As a prose author, Watson produced several philosophical studies, including The sovereignty of ideals ([1903]), The sovereignty of character: lessons from the life of Jesus of Nazareth (1906), and Three comrades of Jesus (1919). He wrote the first volume in Pierce{apos}s Makers of Canadian literature series, on the poet Robert Winkworth Norwood* (1923). Though all reviewers were not so positive, Edwin John Pratt* wrote that the {d-0}task of interpretation has been accomplished with insight and refinement.{d-1} Watson had also collaborated with Pierce in compiling the noted anthology Our Canadian literature: representative prose and verse (1922).

During the first weeks of January 1919 a debate on The twentieth plane was held in Toronto newspapers. Author Lucy Maud Montgomery* described the publication in her journal that March as {d-0}the book which has made such a sensation in Toronto{d-1} (and as {d-0}absolute poppycock – utterly unconvincing{d-1} despite her own interest in life after death). Watson gained many supporters, but others publicly ridiculed him. He resigned his position as leader of the Bible class. Two years later he dissociated himself from Benjamin, declaring his scepticism about mediums (though reaffirming his belief in the spiritual world), and withdrew from his editorship of the Twentieth Plane: a Magazine of Psychic Content. He concluded his study of {d-0}spiritual laws and psychic forces{d-1} with the publication of Mediums and mystics . . . (1923), written in collaboration with Margaret Lawrence, whom he would make his literary executor.

In 1920, in the earliest days of the Baha{apos}i community in Canada, Watson had converted to that faith (as did Lawrence the following year). In the view of Lorne Pierce, {d-0}He recognized no national, ecclesiastical or any other frontier, but searched the world through for truth. . . . He sifted the philosophies, the religions and the humanities of the world. . . . No man during this generation in Toronto ever entertained so many strange faces, tongues, sects, systems, enthusiasms, artists, poets, fanatics, sages as he did; no home was more the ante-chamber to the universe.{d-1}

The literary style epitomized by Watson was eclipsed not long after his death by modern realism, but his dedication to artistic and scientific endeavours will mark his place in Canada{apos}s history.

All of the subject{apos}s works mentioned in the text were published in Toronto, with the exception of The sovereignty of ideals, which came out in Westwood, Mass. {d-0}The reformation and simplification of the calendar{d-1} first appeared in the Astronomical and Physical Soc. of Toronto, Trans., 1896: 59–72, and was reprinted separately the following year. {d-0}Astronomy in Canada{d-1} and {d-0}Astronomy: a cultural avocation{d-1} were published in the Royal Astronomical Soc. of Canada, Journal (Toronto), 11 (1917): [47]–78 and 12 (1918): [81]–91 respectively, and were also reprinted separately in the same years. Many of these works, and additional poetical works by Watson, have been made available by the CIHM and are listed in its Reg. Watson also wrote {d-0}The doctor of the future,{d-1} Canadian Journal of Medicine and Surgery (Toronto), 7 (January–June 1900): 311–18 and he published as well in the Baha{apos}i magazine Star of the West (Chicago) in 1924 and 1926.

Among the biographical accounts of Watson are Canadian album (Cochrane and Hopkins), 1: 105; Canadian men and women of the time (Morgan; 1898 and 1912); Canadian poets, ed. J. W. Garvin ([rev. ed.], Toronto, 1926), 235–36; Commemorative biographical record of the county of York . . . (Toronto, 1907); and L. A. Pierce, Albert Durrant Watson: an appraisal (Toronto, 1923 and 1924). Obituaries appear in the New Outlook (Toronto), 19 May 1926: 26, the Canadian Medical Assoc., Journal (Toronto), new ser., 16 (1926): 991–92, and the Royal Astronomical Soc. of Canada, Journal, 20 (1926): 153–57. See also John Colombo, {d-0}The Euclid Avenue séances,{d-1} in his Haunted Toronto (Toronto, 1996), 176–79; A. C. Laut, {d-0}The poetical works of Albert Durrant Watson,{d-1} Christian Guardian, 26 March 1924: 22–24; L. M. Montgomery [Macdonald], The selected journals of L. M. Montgomery, ed. Mary Rubio and Elizabeth Waterston (4v., Toronto, 1985–98), 2: 312; E. J. Pratt, {d-0}A new book,{d-1} Christian Guardian, 4 July 1923: 21; and W. C. van den Hoonaard, The origins of the Bahá{apos}í community of Canada, 1898–1948 (Waterloo, Ont., 1996). Watson{apos}s will and death registration are found in AO, RG 22-305, no.54597 and RG 80-8-0-1017, no.3724. His file at UTA, A1973-0026/497(50), includes useful newspaper clippings

During Isaac H. Weldon{apos}s early childhood, his Irish immigrant parents moved with their large family to a farm south of Woodstock, Ont., where he attended high school. He moved to Toronto, apparently to study medicine, but went to work instead with his eldest brother, Thomas Andrew, manager of the office there of the E. B. Eddy Company, a leading maker of fine paper [see Ezra Butler Eddy*]. Isaac left the company in 1899 to join Laurentide Paper, a newsprint producer in Grand-Mère, Que., as its North American sales agent; four years later he became sales manager for Burgess Sulphite of New England, which manufactured chemical wood pulp.

In 1909 Weldon teamed up with a handful of American pulp and paper industrialists who, led by his long-time friend Smith Frederick Duncan, owned Bryant Paper of Kalamazoo, Mich. This clique formed the St Lawrence Paper Mills Company in Toronto to take over the fine-paper mill of the bankrupt Cornwall Paper Company at Mille Roches (Long Sault), Ont. Weldon was appointed president, and he and his wife took up residence in Toronto. In 1910 the group, which now included Thomas Weldon, purchased Montrose Paper in Thorold and Barber Paper and Coating Mills in Georgetown [see John Roaf Barber*]. The following year Isaac Weldon was a driving force behind the establishment of Interlake Tissue Mills at Merritton (St Catharines), which he would serve as vice-president until his death. Then, in 1913, the group incorporated Provincial Paper Mills under Weldon{apos}s presidency to consolidate the operations of St Lawrence, Montrose, and Barber. Weldon would build Provincial into one of Canada{apos}s largest producers of book, writing, and coated papers and would carve out a niche for it within the industry.

Although his business affairs were definitely his life{apos}s focus – he was a member of the Toronto Board of Trade and the Canadian Manufacturers{s-1-unknown} Association – he displayed the benevolent streak that also marked many of his contemporaries. A director of the Hospital for Sick Children, he supported the Toronto Playgrounds Association, the Art Gallery of Toronto, and the Boys{s-1-unknown} Industrial Home in Bowmanville. In his leisure he frequented the National, Granite, Lakeview Golf, and Royal Canadian Yacht clubs, and he maintained a valuable rural property, Summit Farm, north of Richmond Hill. According to one biographer, he was {d-0}a man of simple tastes, a delightful and many-sided companion{d-1} who possessed a {d-0}keen sense of humour{d-1} and {d-0}showed easy tolerance of the mistakes of others.{d-1}

Weldon personified his era{apos}s progressive business ethos: his strength lay not in technical expertise but in industrial entrepreneurialism. Whereas newsprint, which most of the country{apos}s mills manufactured, was sold duty-free in the United States, the fine papers made by Weldon{apos}s companies (mainly for books and magazines) were subjected to prohibitive tariffs. This situation forced him to concentrate on the relatively small domestic market, where one of Provincial{apos}s clients, Eaton{apos}s, needed large supplies of paper for its famous catalogues. To meet the market challenge, Weldon both expanded his product lines and fostered cooperation among producers. He was a co-founder of the Canadian Pulp and Paper Association in 1913, its first vice-president the following year, and president in 1915. In 1918 he took Provincial in as an inaugural member of the Canadian Paper Trade Association, which represented Canada{apos}s few fine-paper makers and many of its paper-goods producers, among them W. J. Gage and Company [see Sir William James Gage]. To maximize members{s-1-unknown} profits and create barriers against potential rivals, it divided the country into sales zones, developed guidelines for standardizing products, and enforced a common sales policy. The upshot was a steady rise in consumption, few new players, and consistent profits.

Vertical integration was another step that Weldon took to consolidate his position. Provincial Paper controlled three converting mills, which turned pulp into paper, but it still purchased its pulp on the open market. To remedy this situation, over the course of 1916–17 Port Arthur Pulp and Paper was incorporated as a subsidiary with Weldon as president and a mill was erected in Port Arthur (Thunder Bay), Ont., to turn spruce into the sulphite pulp required by Provincial{apos}s other plants. In 1920 he and his partners incorporated a new Provincial Paper Mills company, of which Weldon continued as president, to combine formally the securities and assets of Provincial and Port Arthur Pulp and Paper.

Isaac Weldon was renowned for his managerial skills, which he amply demonstrated in his dealings with the Ontario government. Prior to constructing the Port Arthur mill, in 1917 Provincial had applied for a pulpwood limit to support the plant, but it lost in the bidding for the tract. Thwarted in his subsequent efforts to secure a long-term timber supply – the sine qua non for a pulp and paper mill – Weldon tried a different tack in 1920, with the new United Farmers government of Ernest Charles Drury*. Provincial reapplied for another large limit, but this time he exerted pressure by threatening to cut off the supply of paper to magazine publishers if the government did not deliver the tract he wanted. Led by Harold Theodore Gagnier of Saturday Night (Toronto), the publishers lobbied Drury to grant Provincial{apos}s wish. Provincial concomitantly made a special offer. The Department of Education had traditionally experienced difficulty in purchasing the quantity of paper it needed for textbooks at prices it considered reasonable. Provincial proposed to supply the paper in exchange for the limit. An agreement was signed in July 1921 and thereafter Provincial enjoyed a relationship with the government that ensured it had more than enough timber.

Weldon{apos}s association with Provincial ended in 1927, when Dominion Securities of Toronto gained control by purchasing its common stock. By this time he had established himself as one of the pioneers in Canada{apos}s modern pulp and paper industry. He died in Toronto in 1928 and was buried in Mount Pleasant Cemetery.

AO, F 229-35, box 1, item 5, paper contract, 1914; RG 3-4-0-86; RG 22-305, no.60364; RG 80-8-0-1087, no.6720. LAC, RG 31, C1, 1871, Darlington Township, Ont., div.2: 8. Ont., Ministry of Natural Resources, lands and waters branch, crown land registry (Peterborough, Ont.), Crown land files, files 9457, 11217, 12156, 18284, 61304. Globe, 18 Oct. 1928. Canadian Pulp and Paper Assoc., A handbook of the Canadian pulp and paper industry (Montreal, 1920). Directory, Toronto, 1892–1915. Pulp and Paper Magazine of Canada (Gardenvale, Que.), 26 (1928): 1477–78; 27 (January–June 1929), {d-0}International number{d-1}: 67. Standard dict. of Canadian biog. (Roberts and Tunnell). Who{apos}s who and why, 1919/20. Who{apos}s who in Canada, 1925/26.

Educated first in Ingersoll, James White graduated in 1883 from the Royal Military College of Canada in Kingston. After joining the Geological Survey of Canada in January 1884 as a topographer, he undertook work in the Rocky Mountains, Ontario, and Quebec. Mount White (Alta) was named for him by George Mercer Dawson*, the assistant director of the Ottawa-based GSC. In June 1894 White became the survey{apos}s geographer and chief draftsman, in succession to Scott Barlow, son of GSC cartographer Robert Barlow*.

White was promoted in June 1899 to chief geographer in the Department of the Interior, which had begun issuing systematic sectional maps of Canada in 1891. There he accumulated and disseminated a wealth of knowledge: he continued the production of detailed maps – his attempt in 1902 to consolidate government map-making was effectively resisted by the GSC – and wrote or edited valuable books on altitudes, cartography, boundaries, and place-names. He regarded the Atlas of Canada ([Ottawa?], 1906), prepared under his direction and one of the world{apos}s first national atlases, as his most important technical achievement. He also contributed to the Alaska Boundary Tribunal in 1903 [see Sir Wilfrid Laurier*] and to investigations in 1906–7 of rapid steamship service between Britain and its Pacific possessions via Canada.

During World War I, public opinion shifted from conservation to increased production for the war effort. Sifton{apos}s involvement waned and White faced detractors who accused the commission of excessive spending and infringing on the work of other departments. Although White{apos}s relationships with colleagues and key ministers deteriorated, he stepped up the activities of the commission, which played a central role in negotiating the Migratory Birds Treaty of 1916. That same year he became the founding chairman of Canada{apos}s advisory board on wildlife protection, in which position he established bird sanctuaries at Rocher Percé and Île Bonaventure, Que., and worked for Canadian sovereignty in the Arctic.

Throughout his career, White belonged to many scientific and professional organizations. A fellow of the Royal Geographical Society and the Royal Society of Canada, he was a sectional vice-president in the British Association for the Advancement of Science, a president of the RSC{apos}s geology section, and chairman of the Geographic Board of Canada in 1927–28. He belonged as well to the National Geographic Society, the Canadian Society of Civil Engineers, and the American Academy of Political and Social Science.

Supporters and critics described White as a bright, ambitious, and single-minded man devoted to the sustainable management of Canada{apos}s natural resources. He was known as well as an {d-0}indefatigable{d-1} worker and researcher whose geographic knowledge of Canada was unsurpassed. An Anglican, he enjoyed travelling, though an early leg fracture restricted his physical activity. He died suddenly at his Ottawa home at age 65.

AO, RG 80-5-0-157, no.2434. Christopher Armstrong, The politics of federalism: Ontario{apos}s relations with the federal government, 1867–1942 (Toronto, 1981). Canadian men and women of the time (Morgan; 1912). R. P. Gillis and T. R. Roach, Lost initiatives: Canada{apos}s forest industries, forest policy and forest conservation (Westport, Conn., 1986). M. F. Girard, L{apos}écologisme retrouvé: essor et declin de la Commission de la conservation du Canada (1909–1921) (Ottawa, 1994; contains a detailed bibliography on White, the conservation movement, and the publications of the Commission of Conservation). H. S. Spence, {d-0}James White, 1863–1928: a biographical sketch,{d-1} OH, 27 (1931): 543–44. Standard dict. of Canadian biog. (Roberts and Tunnell).

After leaving school at 15, John Willison worked as a hired hand in Hills Green and later in the Whitby area near Greenwood, where he impressed the postmaster as {d-0}full of ambition.{d-1} The Toronto Globe and Liberal politics fascinated him, as did the library of the Greenwood Mechanics{s-1-unknown} Institute. In his teens he was the assistant teacher at the local school. He clerked in stores in Stanton and Tiverton, and had his poetry and prose published in newspapers; turning to journalism, he joined the London Advertiser in 1881 before following editor John Cameron* to the Globe in 1883. Willison reported well enough from the Ontario legislature to be promoted in March 1886 to the Parliamentary Press Gallery in Ottawa, where he was drawn to the Liberals{s-1-unknown} rising Quebec star, Wilfrid Laurier*. They became friends, with a common love of politics and literature. In June 1887 Edward Blake* gave up the Liberal leadership and Willison boldly supported Laurier, forging a powerful alliance. He told Laurier he would perform {d-0}any service{d-1} to help the party win Ontario. During the explosive Jesuit estates controversy in 1889, although he loathed the Parti National of Quebec premier Honoré Mercier*, which supported the Liberals, he assured Globe readers in a feature article that the Catholic Laurier was {d-0}a Liberal in every conviction of his mind.{d-1}

As part of a restructuring by Globe president Robert Jaffray*, Willison, with Laurier{apos}s support, replaced Cameron as editor in 1890, though the more experienced, but mercurial, Edward Farrer* took charge of the editorial page. Farrer drew fire during the election of 1891 when the pamphlet he had allegedly written on how Canada could be pressured into union with the United States was leaked to Prime Minister Sir John A. Macdonald*, who delightedly denounced {d-0}veiled treason{d-1} at the Globe. Meanwhile, Willison prevented publication of Blake{apos}s condemnation of Laurier{apos}s policy of unrestricted reciprocity until after the election. The Liberals lost (but not disastrously), Farrer departed in July 1892, and Willison{apos}s ascendancy at the Globe was confirmed.

By the mid 1890s he had assembled a gifted staff of expert editorialists and writers, including the pro-labour radical John Lewis, municipal affairs specialist Thomas Stewart Lyon, and economics analyst Samuel Thomas Wood*. In December 1895 Thomas Charles Patteson, a thorough Tory who had edited the Toronto Mail in the 1870s, told Willison that the Globe was {d-0}certainly now the best paper . . . ever published in Canada. Temperate in its comment, and vigorous in all departments.{d-1} Patteson was sure that {d-0}the converts or waverers made by the Globe{apos}s style of comment are ten times as numerous . . . as those made by the old style of polemical writing.{d-1} Willison{apos}s reputation would soar during the election of 1896 as the Liberals found safe footing in trade protection and the case for provincial rights in the controversy over Manitoba{apos}s abolition of public funding for Catholic schools [see Thomas Greenway*]. Willison opposed any federal interference. Laurier, worried about Catholic Quebec, complained to him in 1895 about his {d-0}altogether . . . too absolute{d-1} editorials. Willison responded that Ontario {d-0}will destroy any party that attempts arbitrary interference with Manitoba.{d-1} When the governing Tories, under the ageing Sir Charles Tupper*, tried to restore Catholic school rights early in 1896, the Globe backed Laurier{apos}s proposal of a negotiated compromise. Electoral victory came in June to the Liberals, who tied the Conservatives in Ontario, and the Globe{apos}s circulation rose to dizzy heights.

Willison increasingly articulated an imperialist nationalism. In 1888 he had told Laurier that he was {d-0}strongly Canada first{d-1} and he even led the Toronto Young Men{apos}s Liberal Club, of which he was president, to vote for Canadian independence. As editor of the Globe, however, he moved in high intellectual and social circles that were generally imperialist. In his memoirs he would remember that {d-0}no one gave me wiser counsel{d-1} than Principal George Monro Grant* of Queen{apos}s College in Kingston, who, as the Globe put it, promoted {d-0}that habit of thought{d-1} which saw Canada as a {d-0}factor{d-1} in the world as part of the British empire. Willison{apos}s friendship with George Taylor Denison, president of the Canadian branch of the British Empire League, was helped by their shared views on corruption and by the new commercial policy the Liberals had adopted in 1893 – {d-0}freer{d-1} trade with Britain and the United States. In 1896 American tariff pressures caused Willison to conclude, in a speech to the National Club, that Canada would have to {d-0}lean upon our Imperial relationships.{d-1} Then came the party{apos}s adroit imperial-preference budget [see William Stevens Fielding] and Laurier{apos}s lionization in the summer of 1897 at the celebration of Queen Victoria{apos}s diamond jubilee. Willison told the Globe from London in October that Canada was {d-0}at last the favorite child of the empire,{d-1} but a year later he would celebrate the {d-0}firmly self-reliant mood{d-1} of a nation of destiny. Soon enough, however, imperialism showed its divisive side. In October 1899 war broke out in South Africa between the Boers and Britain. The Globe argued that the dominion{apos}s dispatch of troops would be {d-0}a national declaration of Canada{apos}s stake in the British Empire.{d-1} Privately Willison told the prime minister that {d-0}he would either send troops or go out of office.{d-1} A contingent went, and Laurier was attacked as too imperialist in Quebec and as {d-0}not British enough{d-1} in Ontario.

Willison{apos}s prestige was growing enormously. In March 1900 he was elected president of the Canadian Press Association and in May he became a fellow of the Royal Society of Canada. His Sir Wilfrid Laurier and the Liberal party: a political history was published in Toronto in 1903. Sometimes brilliant but devoid of critical analysis, it draws upon Hansard and newspapers, and is infused with Willison{apos}s detailed knowledge of Liberalism and flattering admiration. He praises Laurier{apos}s {d-0}patient and courageous resistance to the denationalizing tendencies of racialism, sectarianism, and provincialism.{d-1} Reviews were commendatory – the Canadian Magazine (Toronto) lauded the study as {d-0}the greatest biography yet produced in this country.{d-1} In 1903 Willison was elected an officer of the Canadian Society of Authors and three years later Queen{apos}s awarded him an lld.

Party journalism, however, had begun to frustrate him. He was embarrassed in 1897 when his editorial support for the extension of the Canadian Pacific Railway became linked to efforts by Globe proprietors Jaffray and George Albertus Cox* to profit from deals on railway lands in British Columbia. The following year Ontario{apos}s Liberal premier, Arthur Sturgis Hardy*, berated him for his even-handed election coverage. In January 1900 a Globe manifesto called for an independent railway commission, reform of the Senate and the civil service, and a judicial redistribution of seats in the House of Commons, measures that Laurier criticized as {d-0}advanced radicalism.{d-1} Willison would recall that {d-0}as far back as 1897 he said to me {s-0}I wish the Globe would stop urging reforms. Reforms are for Oppositions. It is the business of governments to stay in office.{s-1-unknown}{d-1} When Liberals attacked him for his fair treatment of the Conservatives in the election of 1900, he exploded in a letter to cabinet minister Clifford Sifton: {d-0}Personally I resent the assumption of every Liberal politician that I am his hired man.{d-1}

Salvation came in the summer of 1902 when Joseph Wesley Flavelle*, the Toronto pork packer and financier, promised to finance a paper in which Willison could express his views without interference. The Toronto Evening News was secured, and on 28 November Willison left the Globe. His first editorial, which appeared on 19 Jan. 1903, announced {d-0}an independent course in politics,{d-1} but this goal proved elusive. In March, Willison chastised the Ontario Liberals for bribing an opposition mla to join them, and by early 1905 he had helped hound them from office. Federally the News had supported Conservative leader Robert Laird Borden in 1904 for promoting national ownership as an alternative to Laurier{apos}s private-sector project for a second transcontinental railway. Sectarian controversy broke out the following year when Laurier revealed his plan to entrench Catholic separate-school rights for the new provinces to be carved out of the North-West Territories. Willison wanted full provincial autonomy and he had told Laurier so in June 1904: this {d-0}was my position on the Manitoba question and I do not see how it is possible to take any other position with respect to the Territories.{d-1} In March 1905 the News denounced the bills creating Alberta and Saskatchewan as {d-0}a great betrayal of Liberal principles{d-1} and many Liberals agreed, causing the prime minister to compromise. Only religious education within essentially public schools, which had existed under territorial ordinances, was to be tolerated in the new provinces, but Willison was not mollified. He explained to a friend that he had written his book on Laurier largely to celebrate the leader{apos}s {d-0}devotion to the federal principle and his resolute resistance to clerical interference in education.{d-1} When Laurier had {d-0}turned squarely in the other direction,{d-1} Willison had been obliged to oppose or {d-0}I would have been a joke from one end of the country to the other.{d-1}

Days of trouble began for the News as the populist Toronto Daily Star drew even in circulation in 1905 and then surged ahead, draining away much advertising. In 1907 Flavelle put an extra $50,000 into the paper, but financial markets plummeted and he decided he had to sell. Willison could find no other backer. His attacks on William Mackenzie{apos}s Toronto Railway Company and, in the debate over the public ownership of electricity in Ontario [see Sir Adam Beck], his reluctance to abandon private enterprise only brought the News discredit. He talked with Laurier about a return to the Globe but this could not be sorted out. In 1908 Ontario premier James Pliny Whitney* arranged for the purchase of the News by a Tory syndicate led by Francis Cochrane*. Willison would be president and editor, but real control rested with the syndicate. Flavelle{apos}s penny-pinching illusions and then the syndicate{apos}s demand for slavish partisanship undoubtedly contributed to the paper{apos}s weakness and tedious moralizing, along with Willison{apos}s tendency to hope against hope that things would improve. The war too may have reduced the ability of the News to assemble capital. {d-0}I cannot go on as I have gone on for twelve years,{d-1} Willison told John Dowsley Reid in 1916. {d-0}We have wasted tens of thousands of dollars by producing a poor paper.{d-1}

Some outlets for independence had continued. Willison was a highly informed speaker on public affairs, and he remained in demand. He was still a correspondent in Canada for the London Morning Post, a position he had been invited to accept in 1905. On the nomination of Governor General Lord Grey* and Laurier, in 1908 he became the Canadian correspondent of the pre-eminent London Times. Willison assured Laurier that he would be abstaining there from utterances bearing {d-0}partisan interpretation.{d-1}

A great national crisis arose when American-Canadian negotiations led to the sudden announcement in parliament in January 1911 of a comprehensive agreement on reciprocal trade. Willison, who had embraced moderate protection, recorded in the Times on 28 January {d-0}an undercurrent of unrest and dissatisfaction in financial and business circles{d-1} in Toronto. Within days the News articulated the basic case against the agreement. For markets that were possibly illusory, and which the United States could take away, Canada was to {d-0}imperil our whole national experiment{d-1} by undercutting its east-west rail and financial networks, transcontinental and cross-Atlantic trade, and British investment. {d-0}Practically . . . we commercially annex the Canadian West to the United States,{d-1} the News continued, with even the manufacturing sector made hostage. In sum, {d-0}we strengthen all the influences towards continentalism and risk the sacrifice both of a young nation and an ancient Empire.{d-1} Flavelle would tell Willison that the subsequent opposition merely enlarged upon his points. In February, Willison reached out to his unparalleled network of Liberal friends – he worked mainly with Clifford Sifton and banker Sir Byron Edmund Walker – to put together the {d-0}Toronto Eighteen,{d-1} a group of prominent businessmen who totally rejected the agreement. Willison then went to Ottawa, accompanied by Zebulon Aiton Lash*, one of the 18, to meet with Sifton and Robert Borden to arrange (as Willison recorded) {d-0}a basis of co-operation{d-1} with the Conservatives. The reciprocity agreement met with filibuster in the commons, and Laurier called an election for September. Willison and Sifton wrote Borden{apos}s campaign manifesto using Willison{apos}s {d-0}parting of the ways{d-1} phraseology, and Borden won a majority. In Toronto thousands of revellers surrounded the News building crying {d-0}Willison, Willison.{d-1} As 1911 closed, his reputation had never been greater; in the New Year{apos}s honours list of 1913 he was awarded a knighthood.

During the early years of Borden{apos}s government, Willison worried that Canada{apos}s hesitations about naval defence and British delays on trade preferences impeded real progress in the reconciliation of national and imperial dreams. During the {d-0}naval scare{d-1} in 1909, over Germany{apos}s threat to Britain{apos}s supremacy, he had supported bipartisan resolutions for the {d-0}speedy{d-1} beginning of a Canadian navy, though, like other imperialists, he had wanted a special contribution of two Dreadnoughts for Britain. In late 1912 Borden delayed development of a Canadian navy and proposed three Dreadnoughts, but the Liberal Senate refused. Willison would lament the partisanship on both sides. On British resistance to preference, he noted for the Times in 1913 Canada{apos}s {d-0}intense concern,{d-1} which he also expressed in the London-based imperialist journal the Round Table.

After the empire went to war in August 1914, Willison became embattled on several fronts. He and the other Canadian members of the Round Table movement [see Edward Joseph Kylie*] insisted that Britain share direction of foreign and defence policy with the matured dominions, thus contradicting the more centralist prescriptions of the movement{apos}s London leader, Lionel George Curtis. In Canada, with military victory in doubt in 1916 and voluntary enlistments lagging, pressure built for a union or coalition government. For months the News pilloried Laurier as a hostage to the Nationalistes in Quebec and strongly advised Borden not to agree to the union idea. But after meeting with him in February 1917, Willison hinted in the News that coalition might be necessary after all. Then, in May, Borden adopted conscription, stirring many English Canadian Liberals, including Ontario leader Newton Wesley Rowell*, to press Laurier to join with Borden. Laurier refused, but Willison, having resigned in June from the News, its financial situation beyond salvation, acted for Borden to help bring Rowell aboard. When western Liberals came too [see Arthur Lewis Watkins Sifton], the coalition was constructed. The Union government then sought a mandate. Willison, with Sir Clifford Sifton, wrote Borden{apos}s election address of 12 November, and he served as chief coordinator of publicity in the campaign that led to a landslide victory in December.

After 1917 Willison mixed achievements and disappointments. Known for his chairmanship in 1914–16 of the Ontario commission on unemployment, in 1918 he was made head of the Ontario Housing Committee, which unsuccessfully urged federal funding. In addition, on the invitation of business leaders, he served as president of the Canadian Reconstruction Association from 1918 to 1922, but he could not bridge the divisions between business, labour, and agrarian interests. As a member in 1920–21 of the Ontario royal commission on university finances, he felt that the new United Farmers government was not inclined to be generous. Willison himself was a trustee of Queen{apos}s University, and a governor of both the University of Toronto and Upper Canada College. At the national level he was at odds in 1918–20 with Borden, who was bent on Canadian autonomy, and in the 1920s with the new Liberal leader, William Lyon Mackenzie King*, who also opposed imperial policies. As an imperialist nationalist, Willison complained to a friend that {d-0}those who hold my view seem to have been deserted.{d-1} In 1919 his Reminiscences, political and personal was published in Toronto. Rich in opinion on journalism and politics, especially before 1900, the book returns in a final chapter ({d-0}Laurier and the empire{d-1}) to imperialist musings. {d-0}No one who knew Laurier could believe that he was an Imperialist,{d-1} Willison stated. He pointed out, however, that the late prime minister had had no quarrel with Britain and noted his work for British preference, his shipment of troops to South Africa, and his belief in Canada{apos}s {d-0}obligation for naval defence.{d-1} The autobiography was certainly not as current as Willison{apos}s speeches and publications for the Reconstruction Association. Augustus Bridle probably spoke for many when he said in The masques of Ottawa (Toronto, 1921) that Willison should {d-0}stop writing Reconstruction bulletins and do something of more value to the country, so that the older enthusiasm of men who used to think he was Canada{apos}s greatest editor may not altogether die.{d-1} In 1923 Willison began a biography of Sir George Robert Parkin and in 1925 he added some chapters to his biography of Laurier. A last hurrah was Willisons Monthly, a stylish newsmagazine started that year in Toronto, but with Willison{apos}s death in 1927 there was no time to see what lasting impact it could have under his direction.

Compared with Willison{apos}s public record, personal information on him and his family is slight. He was an avid clubman and lawn bowler, a Prohibitionist, and a Methodist turned Anglican. Beyond journalism, he had business interests in the 1920s as president of the Municipal Bankers{s-1-unknown} Corporation Limited, Mortgage, Discount and Finance Limited, and Canadian Rail and Harbour Terminals Limited, as a co-founder with bond-broker Thomas A. Neeley of the financing firm Willison-Neeley Corporation, and as a director of the Western Canada Colonization Association. Willison{apos}s first wife had been a founder of the Toronto Ladies{s-1-unknown} Club in 1904, a councillor of the Imperial Order Daughters of the Empire, and a wartime president of the Canadian National Ladies{s-1-unknown} Guild for British and Foreign Sailors. Their twin sons both became journalists; one, William Taylor, was killed in France in 1916. Just a year after Willison{apos}s remarriage, to Marjory MacMurchy, a former literary editor at the News and an accomplished writer, he died of cancer at age 70.

Willison had major champions as well as detractors. Many Liberals could never forgive his turn against Laurier. In July 1927 King told his diary that the editor had been {d-0}a tory snob in his behaviour, tho{s-1-unknown} he had within him qualities that might have made him a truly great man.{d-1} Writing in the Dalhousie Review (Halifax), educationist Arthur Hugh Urquhart Colquhoun remembered {d-0}a formidable antagonist and a pillar of strength in the storm. So men of all sorts sought his counsel in an emergency, trusting to his balanced judgment, his unique experience and his incorruptible integrity.{d-1} Self-educated, very much self-promoting, and widely admired, although he surely faced more criticism, rivalry, and jealousy than uncritical acclaim, Willison rose on the strength of his abilities to become an advocate for major national causes and a close counsellor to Laurier and Borden, astonishingly across the Liberal-Conservative divide and over three decades of rapidly changing conditions, issues, and ideas.

Sir John Willison was one of the most influential English-speaking journalists in Canada in the late 19th and early 20th centuries and a pivotal figure in national political shifts in 1896, 1911, and 1917. With his incisive pen and clear reasoning, he raised the Globe to unprecedented prominence. Although he failed to find sustainability for the News as a journalist-centred, independent newspaper, he used it effectively as a vehicle for the expression of his large ideas for 14 years. For two highly eventful decades in British-Canadian relations he interpreted Canada brilliantly for the Times. His history of Laurier and his Reminiscences constituted major literary achievements. In all its facets, his career powerfully touched and expressively reflected the evolution of Canada{apos}s nationhood.

Sir John Stephen Willison apparently destroyed virtually all of his private family correspondence, but there are collections of other Willison papers at the AO (F 1083) and the LAC (MG 30, D29). The AO holdings also contain two biographical manuscripts, one an insightful memoir by Lady Willison, the other a long letter to her from historian Jesse Edgar Middleton* that appears to be the text of a speech (presumably by Middleton) to the Canadian Literature Club in Toronto on 1 Oct. 1928. The only published biography is A. H. U. Colquhoun, Press, politics and people: the life and letters of Sir John Willison, journalist and correspondent of the {d-0}Times{d-1} (Toronto, 1935). Rather than an objective analysis, it is an admiring tribute by a friend and journalistic contemporary who allowed Willison to be his own biographer by speaking through his letters. Newspaperman John Wesley Dafoe* characterized it as {d-0}a careful blend of biography and quotation.{d-1}

Willison{apos}s publications include: Agriculture and industry . . . (Toronto, [1920?]); Anglo-Saxon amity ([Toronto?, 1906?]); The new Canada: a survey of the conditions and problems of the dominion (London, [1912]); Partners in peace: the dominion, the empire and the republic (Toronto, 1923); The railway question in Canada . . . (Toronto, [1897]); Sir George Parkin: a biography (London, 1929); Sir Wilfrid Laurier and the Liberal party: a political history (2v., Toronto, 1903); and The United States and Canada (New York, 1908).

AO, RG 80-5-0-132, no.1588; RG 80-8-0-982, no.1347; RG 80-8-0-1051, no.4037. Globe & Mail Library (Toronto), M. O. Hammond, {d-0}History of the Globe,{d-1} ed. H. W. Charlesworth (typescript). LAC, MG 26, G; H; J13, 17 July 1927. QUA, Joseph Flavelle fonds. Times Arch. (London, Eng.), New Printing House Square papers, Willison file. Evening News (Toronto), 1902–17. Globe, 1883–1902, esp. 9 June 1885; 20, 22 Jan. 1925; 10, 12–13 April 1926. Morning Post (London, Eng.), 1906–8. Times (London), 1908–27. Toronto Daily Star, 1905; 26 Oct. 1935. Réal Bélanger, Wilfrid Laurier; quand la politique devient passion (Québec et Montréal, 1986). Carl Berger, The sense of power; studies in the ideas of Canadian imperialism, 1867–1914 (Toronto and Buffalo, N.Y., 1970). Michael Bliss, A Canadian millionaire: the life and business times of Sir Joseph Flavelle, bart., 1858–1939 (Toronto, 1978). R. C. Brown, Robert Laird Borden: a biography (2v., Toronto, 1975–80). R. C. Brown and Ramsay Cook, Canada, 1896–1921: a nation transformed (Toronto, 1974). Canadian annual rev., 1902–25/26. H. W. Charlesworth, Candid chronicles: leaves from the note book of a Canadian journalist (Toronto, 1925). R. T. Clippingdale, {d-0}J. S. Willison and Canadian nationalism, 1886–1902,{d-1} CHA, Hist. Papers (1969): 74–93; {d-0}J. S. Willison, political journalist: from liberalism to independence, 1881–1905{d-1} (phd thesis, 2v., Univ. of Toronto, 1970). A. H. U. Colquhoun, {d-0}Sir John Willison,{d-1} Dalhousie Rev. (Halifax), 7 (1927–28): 159–62. Ramsay Cook, The politics of John W. Dafoe and the {d-0}Free Press{d-1} (Toronto and Buffalo, 1963). Carman Cumming, Secret craft: the journalism of Edward Farrer (Toronto, 1992). J. W. Dafoe, Clifford Sifton in relation to his times (Toronto, 1931); Laurier; a study in Canadian politics (Toronto, 1922; repr., intro. M. S. Donnelly, 1963). Domino [Augustus Bridle], {d-0}A coat of many colours: Sir John Willison,{d-1} in his The masques of Ottawa (Toronto, 1921), 166–72. J. E. Kendle, The Round Table movement and imperial union (Toronto and Buffalo, 1975). J. E. Middleton and Fred Landon, The province of Ontario: a history, 1615–1927 (5v., Toronto, 1927–[28]), 4: 509–10. H. V. Nelles, The politics of development: forests, mines & hydro-electric power in Ontario, 1849–1941 (Toronto, 1974). Margaret Prang, N. W. Rowell, Ontario nationalist (Toronto and Buffalo, 1975). Round Table (London), 1910–16. Paul Rutherford, A Victorian authority: the daily press in late nineteenth-century Canada (Toronto, 1982). Joseph Schull, Laurier: the first Canadian (Toronto, 1965). Minko Sotiron, From politics to profits: the commercialization of Canadian daily newspapers, 1890–1920 (Montreal and Kingston, 1997). P. B. Waite, Canada, 1874–1896: arduous destiny (Toronto and Montreal, 1971). Who{apos}s who in Canada, 1922.

Wilson moved to Montreal in 1882. Two years later he began working for the Manufacturers{s-1-unknown} Life Insurance Company [see George Gooderham*], and he would serve as manager of its Montreal office until 1911. After transferring then to the Canada Life Assurance Company, again as manager, he would later be in charge of its operations for the province of Quebec, and he continued in this position for the rest of his life. He would also be a director of Crown Trust Company as well as of Peter Lyall and Sons Construction Company.

Wilson{apos}s interest in the military life was evident from the time he came to Montreal in 1882, the year he enlisted as a private in the 3rd Battalion of Rifles (Victoria Rifles of Canada). Probably as a result of the quality of his performance and leadership, he rose through the ranks and obtained an officer{apos}s commission in January 1892. He assumed command of the regiment on 25 Sept. 1903, with the rank of lieutenant-colonel, and he relinquished it four years later.

Wilson tried, but failed, to create a strong, vigorous, and active civilian organization in the Montreal area for recruiting French Canadians. For this purpose he got in touch with three soldiers and with three French Canadian civilians, Senator Frédéric-Ligori Béïque*, Sir Alexander Lacoste, and especially Senator Raoul Dandurand*, but they were unable to respond favourably to his request for assistance. They did not find a francophone priest prepared to take charge of recruiting French-speaking volunteers, as Wilson had hoped, nor were they able to establish a fund similar to that of the Citizen{apos}s Recruiting League, an English-language organization set up to promote the recruitment of men willing to enlist in the anglophone battalions operating in Military District No.4. On 14 March 1916 Wilson appointed a Methodist clergyman, the Reverend Charles A. Williams, as chief recruiting agent for his district, claiming that he had been unable to find a French-speaking priest to hold this position. Nonetheless, he might have chosen an officer or a layman instead, as was done in Military District No.5, based at Quebec. Lemieux referred to this ill-considered appointment the following year in the course of the debates on the Military Service Act in the House of Commons. During his time as head of the camp at Valcartier, Wilson could not understand the difficult position of the French Canadian commanders of battalions, who were reduced to the role of recruiting officers. This incomprehension became clear in 1916 in his evaluation of the work of Lieutenant-Colonel Hercule Barré, commander of the 150th Infantry Battalion, and his criticism of Lieutenant-Colonel René-Arthur de La Bruère Girouard, commander of the 178th Infantry Battalion.

In spite of these reservations, it must be acknowledged that Erastus William Wilson was a staunch high-ranking officer, dedicated to the cause of the Canadian Expeditionary Force, and, as Lemieux said, in his daily life {d-0}a real gentleman.{d-1}

Hailed as a Canadian Charlotte Brontë on the publication of her first novel in 1894, Joanna, also known as Nelly, Wood was celebrated in an article in the Canadian Magazine (Toronto) four years later as one of Canada{apos}s {d-0}three leading novelists,{d-1} though {d-0}the least familiar.{d-1} Meteor-like, her career plunged into obscurity after 1902.

Wood was the youngest of 11 children. From a family long established in the isolated Scottish village of Slamannan, her father followed tradition to become a farmer, first as a tenant in Stirlingshire and then at Lesmahagow between 1862 and 1869, a period marked by the death of a number of his children from tuberculosis. In 1869 Robert, Agnes, and five surviving offspring followed the eldest son, William, to Irving, N.Y. They later moved to Ontario, possibly to be closer to Robert{apos}s brother John Stanton Wood, who had settled near Guelph. In 1874 Robert purchased The Heights, a large, valuable farm overlooking the Niagara River at Queenston. Once settled, Robert and Agnes Wood became founding members of the Presbyterian church in nearby St Davids.

Reports suggest that Joanna was supported by her brother William, an insurance agent, following her education at the St Catharines Grammar School. Between 1887 and 1901 she was based in New York City, using William{apos}s business address there for her mail while she travelled extensively to winter in various American or European cities and summer at Queenston. One of her journeys, to Scotland, enabled her to do research for her last known novel, Farden Ha{s-1-unknown} (London, 1902), set in a Scottish coalmining village with a shaft under the owner{apos}s house, as in Lesmahagow.

During a trip to England she had reputedly been presented at court by the sisters of poet Algernon Charles Swinburne, who was said to have been her fiancé. Two essays she wrote for the Canadian Magazine in 1901 fuelled these stories, sustained by family legend, but no archival evidence has been found. Moreover, given Swinburne{apos}s greater age and homosexual leanings, an engagement is extremely unlikely. In her writing, however, Wood did espouse his aesthetics, with their fin de siècle decadence. Like him, she attempted to fuse the sensual with the spiritual through symbolism. Her absence from the Toronto literary scene created a vacuum in which such stories could circulate, mythologizing her within the dominant imperialist nationalism as a leading novelist who, like Charles George Douglas Roberts* and Horatio Gilbert Parker*, the other members of the triumvirate praised in 1898, was a Canadian Cinderella at home in English palaces.

Wood{apos}s father had sold The Heights in 1893 to William, who later turned it over to Joanna; in addition, a neighbour bequeathed her an adjoining farm. According to the census of 1901, she lived at The Heights with her widowed mother, a niece, and two lodgers. The Canadian Magazine, however, corresponded with her in New York that year. In November 1906 Joanna sold the Queenston property and with her mother rented The Knoll on Regent Street in nearby Niagara-on-the-Lake. Joanna resided there more continuously, joining the Niagara Historical Society in 1907 and giving talks on {d-0}Reminiscences of Queenston{d-1} and {d-0}Impressions of Europe{d-1} a year later. In 1914 she was an absentee member of the society, resident in Buffalo, though she continued to visit friends in the Niagara area, among them historian Janet Carnochan and the Woodruffs of St Davids, the family of children{apos}s writer Anne Helena Woodruff. In her letters to these friends Wood included poems.

How she had come to be a writer remains a mystery. Quotations in her fiction from the Romantics, Tennyson, Swinburne, and Shakespeare, and from female authors Mme de Staël, George Eliot, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and Christina Rossetti on the {d-0}woman question{d-1} (in relation to women{apos}s aesthetic and sexual yearnings for transcendence) imply that she was well read. They also connote serious literary ambitions. According to Honora S. Howard in the Buffalo Illustrated Express in 1896, Joanna attributed her success to her brother William, her first reader and a severe critic. Apparently on his recommendation she sought a publisher, finding in J. Selwin Tait a sympathetic fellow author who encouraged her to write a novel, which he launched in New York to extravagant praise. His blurb comparing Wood{apos}s The untempered wind (1894) to Brontë{apos}s Jane Eyre and Nathaniel Hawthorne{apos}s The scarlet letter set the terms for subsequent reviews. Her second novel, Judith Moore . . . (Toronto), appeared in 1898. Most of her writings, reportedly quite numerous and many of them prizewinners, cannot be located. No trace can be found, for instance, of {d-0}The mind of God,{d-1} which took a $500 award according to the Canadian Magazine in 1898. Equally mysterious is the abrupt end to Wood{apos}s burst of creative energy. No mention is made of her in the Canadian Magazine after 1901, not even reviews of Farden Ha{s-1-unknown}, perhaps because she no longer sent news-filled letters to its editor, John Alexander Cooper*.

At the pinnacle of her career in 1901, Wood was the highest paid Canadian fiction writer. Her work was also a critical success, especially her first two novels, though they were praised for different qualities. British reviewers commented that she {d-0}has a style,{d-1} which Americans attacked as overwrought. Characterization was what Canadians admired, along with her innovative {d-0}local colour realism,{d-1} inspired by English novelist Mary Russell Mitford. The Canadian Magazine, which praised her depiction of Ontario rural life in Judith Moore, later faulted A daughter of witches . . . (Toronto, 1900) for its American setting and forecast greater success had she included {d-0}local colour in the Canadian country scenes, with which the authoress is so familiar.{d-1} With her treatment of a Scottish village in Farden Ha{s-1-unknown}, in the tragic manner of Thomas Hardy{apos}s Wessex fiction, Wood no longer fit easily into the mythology of the national landscape that had made her the darling of the Canadian Magazine.

This tension between cosmopolitanism and regionalism echoes the conflict between boundlessness and constraint in the plots of Wood{apos}s novels. They use variations on the love triangle or two-suitors plot common in 19th-century fiction to trace the inward growth of powerful and unconventional heroines confronting the demands of social institutions. Desire, Wood{apos}s central theme, is developed through an impressionistic use of landscape to generate powerful symbols. The fallen woman of The untempered wind, true to her vow of love, escapes through the night woods from the harassment of the narrow-minded women of Jamestown (likely modelled on Queenston); the diva of Judith Moore sings like a lark uncaged in an Ontario orchard, in a reworking of the plot of Corinne, ou l{apos}Italie (a de Staël novel), which dramatizes the conflict for women between artistic triumph and romantic fulfilment. These works bow to convention by ending with marriage. Wood{apos}s next two novels, A daughter of witches and Farden Ha{s-1-unknown}, deal with the disruptive effects of passion on the institution of marriage. The two novellas published in Tales from Town Topics (New York) highlight the decadent aspect of Wood{apos}s fiction: {d-0}A martyr to love{d-1} (1897) recounts the adventures of a femme fatale ironically wounded in her heartless conquests, while {d-0}Where waters beckon{d-1} (1902) draws symbolically on Niagara{apos}s whirlpools and local Indian legends as the setting for a dark tale of a woman married off to a madman by her father and later destroyed with her lover, an engineer developing hydroelectricity.

Americans recognized the feminist argument in Wood{apos}s critique of patriarchal authority constraining women{apos}s desire. However, they made a distinction between the {d-0}unconventional theories{d-1} in her writing and her fondness for {d-0}feminine frivolities{d-1} in her clothing. Current Literature (New York) insisted in 1894 that she was no {d-0}woman{apos}s-righter.{d-1} In 1896 Honora Howard did not see her as a {d-0}new woman{d-1} since she supported neither the rational dress movement nor the suffrage movement. Yet Wood{apos}s most enthusiastic review, of Judith Moore in 1898, came from a {d-0}new woman{d-1} journalist, Kit Coleman [Ferguson*] of the Toronto Daily Mail and Empire. Conversely, Wood{apos}s relentless depiction of the persecution of the fallen woman in The untempered wind had been condemned as anachronistic and {d-0}half-hysteric{d-1} – negatively feminine – by another female journalist (possibly Laura Bradshaw Durand) in the Toronto Globe in 1894. As Wood confessed to William Kirby*, a Niagara correspondent, this {d-0}savage{d-1} review hurt because it came from a Canadian, and all the more so because the {d-0}poetic flight which smacks of the school-girl composition{d-1} attacked by the critic was a quotation from Shelley{apos}s {d-0}Adonais.{d-1}

Wood{apos}s short stories, in the New England Magazine (Boston), the Canadian Magazine, the Christmas Globe (Toronto), and elsewhere, are divided between controlled ironic renderings of local events centred on strong female characters, and masculine adventure stories from a {d-0}Mexican series,{d-1} which use legend and setting to create atmosphere and suspense. {d-0}Unto the third generation,{d-1} published anonymously in All the Year Round (London) in 1890 but attributed to Wood, recounts the effect on a young man of the revelation that his mad mother is locked up in a West Indian house, a topic with similarities to Jane Eyre. Among Wood{apos}s unlocated stories, {d-0}The lynchpin murders{d-1} (announced in the Niagara Times in 1898) suggests that Wood continued to experiment with new fictional forms until she abruptly stopped publishing in 1902.

According to the Niagara Falls Evening Review in 1927, Wood had suffered a nervous breakdown some years before which had compelled her to abandon her writing. She had portrayed such a crisis in Judith Moore, invoking the pastoral myth when a stressed prima donna retreats to a village to recover her health and soul. This scenario poses intriguing questions. Was her brother William a hard taskmaster, like Judith{apos}s New York manager? Did Joanna choose voluntarily to give up her artistic career, like Judith, in the name of emotional fulfilment? Her last recorded publication is a topical poem, {d-0}The man in the ranks,{d-1} in the St. Catharines Standard sometime between 1914 and 1917.

After her mother{apos}s death in February 1910, Joanna Wood had resided with her brother William, then a life-insurance agent in New York City and later in Freeport, N.Y. She subsequently spent time with her sisters Mary Glennie in LaSalle, N.Y., and Jessie Maxwell in Detroit, at whose home she died of a stroke on 1 May 1927. She was buried in Fairview Cemetery in Niagara Falls, Ont.

Joanna Wood{apos}s concern with women{apos}s self-realization and symbolism has stimulated renewed interest in her work by late-20th-century feminist critics. As a result, The untempered wind was republished in a centenary edition in Ottawa in 1994.

Wood{apos}s novel A daughter of witches was originally serialized in the Canadian Magazine (Toronto), 12 (November 1898–April 1899)–13 (May–October 1899). An excerpt from The untempered wind was published in Current Literature (New York), October 1894: 378 under the title {d-0}An inheritance of dishonor: a child{apos}s sorrow,{d-1} and an excerpt from Judith Moore entitled {d-0}Sam Symmons{s-1-unknown} great loss{d-1} appeared in the Canadian Magazine, 10 (November 1897–April 1898): 536–38.

Other stories and articles by Wood which have been located include {d-0}Malhalla{apos}s revenge{d-1} in the New England Magazine (Boston), new ser., 12 (March–August 1895): 184–87; and {d-0}A mother,{d-1} {d-0}Algernon Charles Swinburne: an appreciation,{d-1} and {d-0}Presentation at court{d-1} in the Canadian Magazine, 7 (May–October 1896): 558–61 and 17 (May–October 1901): 2–10 and 506–10 respectively. Another story attributed to her, {d-0}The land of manana,{d-1} has not been found.

AO, F 1076-A-23. Brock Univ. Library, Special Coll. and Arch. (St Catharines, Ont.), Women{apos}s Literary Club of St Catharines Arch., E. M. Stevens, J. E. Wood scrapbook. North York Central Library, Canadiana Coll. (Toronto), J. A. Cooper papers, Canadian Magazine files. Daily Record (Niagara Falls, Ont.), 2 March 1910: 3. Evening Review (Niagara Falls), 3 May 1927. H. S. Howard, {d-0}Joanna E. Wood,{d-1} Buffalo Illustrated Express (Buffalo, N.Y.), 26 Dec. 1896: 7. Niagara Advance (Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ont.), 28 Aug. 1919. St. Catharines Standard, 7 May 1927. Times (Niagara-on-the-Lake), 21 Oct. 1898: 5; 14 Feb. 1908: 1; 17 April 1908: 4; 4 March 1910: 1. Canadian Magazine, 11 (May–October 1898): 180, 270; 12: 473. Canadian men and women of the time (Morgan; 1912). Wendy D{apos}Angelo, {d-0}Joanna E. Wood: a {s-0}new woman{s-1-unknown} and her works{d-1} (BA thesis, Dept. of English, York Univ., Toronto, 1987). Dictionary of literary biography (317v. to date, Detroit, 1978– ), 92 (Canadian writers, 1890–1920, ed. W. H. New, 1990). Barbara Godard, {d-0}{s-0}Petticoat anarchist{s-1-unknown}?: Joanna Wood, the sex of fiction, the fictive sex,{d-1} in Women{apos}s writing and the literary institution, ed. C[laudine] Potvin et al. (Edmonton, 1992), 95–125; {d-0}A portrait with three faces: the new woman in fiction by Canadian women, 1880–1920,{d-1} Literary Criterion (Bombay), 19 (1984), nos.3–4: 72–92. Carrie MacMillan, {d-0}Joanna E. Wood: incendiary women,{d-1} in Silenced sextet: six nineteenth-century Canadian women authors, ed. Carrie MacMillan et al. (Montreal and Kingston, Ont., 1992), 169–200. The Oxford companion to Canadian literature, ed. Eugene Benson and William Toye (2nd ed., Toronto, 1997). E. M. Stevens, {d-0}She{apos}s Canada{apos}s Charlotte Brontë, but Joanna E. Wood goes unrecognized here,{d-1} Early Canadian Life (Oakville, Ont.), 4 (1980), no.4: B3, B15; {d-0}Writers of the Niagara peninsula: Wood, Joanna Ellen,{d-1} Ontario Geneal. Soc., Niagara peninsula branch, Notes from Niagara (St Catharines), 4 (1984), no.2: 6. Types of Canadian women . . . , ed. H. J. Morgan (Toronto, 1903).

LOFT, FREDERICK OGILVIE (known in Mohawk as Onondeyoh, meaning {d-0}beautiful mountain{d-1}), lumberman, journalist, civil servant, author, activist, army officer, and Mohawk pine tree chief; b. 3 Feb. 1861 on the Six Nations Reserve, Upper Canada, son of George Rokwaho Loft and Ellen Smith; m. late June 1898 Affa Northcote Geare (d. 21 May 1945) in Toronto, and they had three daughters; d. there 5 July 1934.

Fred Loft{apos}s parents belonged to the Christian community, the largest religious group among the Six Nations of the Grand River. The Iroquois there contained two distinct religious worlds: the Mohawk, Oneida, Tuscarora, and Iroquois allies such as the Delaware accepted Protestant Christianity; the Seneca and Onondaga adhered to the code of Skanyátaí.yoˀ (Handsome Lake), the Seneca prophet associated with traditional Iroquoian religious practices in the early 19th century. The other Iroquois tribe, the Cayuga, included both Christian and Handsome Lake (or Longhouse) adherents. Generally, the Christians promoted adjustment to the larger society, through the adoption of commercial agriculture and education in English, while the Longhouse people championed the old customs of the Six Nations.

Loft{apos}s mother, Ellen Smith (Konwajonhondyon, meaning {d-0}left alone by the fire{d-1}), gave her children English and Iroquoian names. She was the granddaughter of Oneida Joseph, a well-known warrior under Joseph Brant [Thayendanegea*] in the American Revolutionary War. Her father, Peter Smith, a prosperous Mohawk farmer, served in the 1850s as the Six Nations{s-1-unknown} interpreter. When Ellen was quite young, her mother died and her father married a granddaughter of Brant. In terms of social prominence, the Smiths stood at the top level of Christian Iroquois society. Their guests included American ethnographer Lewis Henry Morgan, who called in 1850 along with Ely Samuel Parker, his Iroquois assistant and a future general in the American army. Ellen, who remembered the visit for the rest of her life, had married in 1849 George Loft, a Mohawk from the Tyendinaga Reserve on the Bay of Quinte near Belleville. As a wedding present her father gave the couple a small farm, Forest Home, in the northeast corner of the Six Nations territory.

Since his parents spoke English fluently, Fred, their middle son, grew up with this language as well as his native Mohawk. He and his brothers William D. (Dewaselakeh, meaning {d-0}double axe{d-1}) and Harry (Kalonyoudyeh, {d-0}flying sky{d-1}), the only three of the six children to outlive their father, were raised in the Anglican tradition. The Christian faith remained important to George and Ellen Loft, who donated land from their farm for Christ Church in 1873. In a note registered just after George{apos}s death in 1895, the parish record refers to his {d-0}upwards of 40 years engaged in mission work in this locality as Catechist, Interpreter and Lay Reader.{d-1}

The Lofts also valued education. Fred attended a First Nation primary school near Forest Home until the age of 12. He then boarded for a year at the Mohawk Institute, an Indian residential school in Brantford. He detested it. Years later he bitterly remembered that he {d-0}was hungry all the time, did not get enough to eat.{d-1} There were other deprivations: {d-0}In winter the rooms and beds were so cold that it took half the night before I got warm enough to fall asleep.{d-1} His father and mother, who always allowed him a great deal of freedom, supported his decision not to return, but Fred still desperately wanted a full education. At 13 he walked eight miles a day, round trip, to the public school in neighbouring Caledonia, a non-native town. The next year he moved there to be closer to school, and he worked for his board and lodging. After completing elementary school, the determined young man immediately entered Caledonia{apos}s high school, where he studied from 1878 to 1881.

The encouragement of his parents and his success in school gave Loft great confidence. Although discrimination was rife in the communities around the Six Nations territory, any negative encounters in Caledonia did not deter him. After high school, according to one biographical source, he felt {d-0}equipped enough to face the world of competition - no matter what.{d-1} A variety of challenges followed. For several years he worked in the forests of northern Michigan, rising from lumberjack to timber inspector. Ill health forced him to leave the bush and go back to the Grand River in 1884-85. Upon his recovery he returned to school. He received a full scholarship to study bookkeeping at the Ontario Business College in Belleville. On graduating he could not find employment as a bookkeeper, a setback that led him momentarily into journalism. He worked as a reporter for the Brantford Expositor for six months, and covered locally the general election of February 1887. (All eastern Canadian male Indians who met the property qualification had just received the federal franchise, a right that would be withdrawn in 1898.) Loft was a staunch Liberal, so much so that fellow Mohawk John W. M. Elliott, a Conservative organizer, had advised Prime Minister Sir John A. Macdonald* on 10 January that Loft{apos}s letters to the Department of Indian Affairs should go unanswered. The reporter, he explained, {d-0}is a stiff & bigotted Grit, & desires to make a handle of everything which he elicits in the shape of information from {s-0}Headquarters{s-1-unknown} against our party & Government.{d-1}

Following his time with the Expositor, Loft worked for two years as a lumber inspector in Buffalo, N.Y. Then, around 1890, his partisan credentials helped him obtain a new job in Toronto. The provincial Liberal government of Oliver Mowat* appointed him an accountant in the bursar{apos}s office of the Asylum for the Insane. He would remain in this position for the next 36 years.

Toronto took little interest in contemporary First Nation matters in the late 19th century. Natives were a more distant people to its citizens than to Canadians in other urban centres. Unlike Montreal, Vancouver, and Calgary, it had no neighbouring reserve; in 1901 only 36 Indians would be enumerated in Toronto. In 1891 Goldwin Smith*, a former professor of history at the University of Oxford and one of the city{apos}s leading intellectuals, dismissed the North American Indian in two sentences: {d-0}The race, everyone says, is doomed.... Little will be lost by humanity.{d-1}

After Fred Loft{apos}s arrival in Toronto, he continued to take an interest in native issues. He tried to organize a new political grouping of the First Nations of Ontario. On 9 Oct. 1896 he wrote Hayter REED, the federal deputy superintendent general of Indian Affairs, that {d-0}the Six Nations & the Mohawks of the Bay of Quinte the most foremost of the Indians in Canada{d-1} no longer attended the grand general councils held by Ontario natives. Subsequently, he suggested the formation of an organization that would once again include both the Iroquois and the Ojibwa. Drawing on his newspaper background, he reformulated his arguments in a letter in the Toronto Globe on 7 November. He wanted greater autonomy for the First Nations. The Department of Indian Affairs, he argued, {d-0}should more readily adhere to our decisions and wishes, as expressed through the wisdom of our respective councils, rather than submit, as has too often unfortunately been the case, to dictation.{d-1} Nothing came of the suggestion.

Through the late 1890s and the first years of the new century, the outgoing Loft became energetically involved in his adopted community, which had much more to offer than the smaller centres of Caledonia, Brantford, or Belleville. In 1898 the 37-year-old government employee married Affa Geare of Chicago, a former Torontonian of British ancestry who was 11 years his junior. They had met at a friend{apos}s place in Toronto. Affa gave birth in 1899 to twins, Henrietta Gertrude and Ellen Emma Leska; Leska died in 1902 but another daughter, Affa Northcote, was born in 1904. The church-going Lofts led a busy, upper-middle-class life; their social circle was extensive. They had season tickets to two theatres and frequented Abraham Michael ORPEN{apos}s racetrack - Fred was an avid horseman. He took part in masonic affairs through St George{apos}s Lodge, was keen on billiards, and sang, played the piano, and, with Affa, hosted musical parties. Joined on occasion by her husband as a speaker, Affa was active in the American Women{apos}s Club of Toronto, the United Empire Loyalists{s-1-unknown} Association of Canada, and the Women{apos}s Art Association of Canada. Their daughters went to the respected Toronto Model School.

Ministers, doctors, lawyers, and heads of organizations counted Fred Loft as a friend. He was acquainted with Sir Adam Beck*, the head of Ontario Hydro, whose photo hung in the Lofts{s-1-unknown} home. Through mutual First Nation interests, he knew David Boyle*, the curator of the Ontario Provincial Museum; in a 1907 article Boyle considered him {d-0}a highly intelligent gentleman, of good appearance, good address, and good common sense.{d-1} (Tall and physically impressive, Fred dressed conservatively in navy blue or dark grey suits.) For some time the Lofts lived on the same street as George Taylor Denison*, Toronto{apos}s senior police magistrate, who described Fred in 1906 as {d-0}a respectable gentleman of fairly good education, and much better qualified for the franchise than 95 per cent of those who have it.{d-1} First Nation friends such as the famous Iroquois runner Tom Longboat* visited Loft.

In the years before World War I, Loft continued to draw attention to native affairs. He wrote on the future of the Indian for the Globe in 1908 and a year later Saturday Night (Toronto) published his series on the Indian and education, a topic of particular concern to Loft. In the first of his four articles, he advocated an end to residential schools as {d-0}veritable death-traps,{d-1} so unsanitary were they; he called instead for day schools on reserves. In Ontario{apos}s Annual archæological report, he wrote on a lighter topic, snow-snaking, the favourite winter sport of the Six Nations.

The Six Nations were strongly rooted in their past [see John Arthur Gibson*], and Loft contributed to this consciousness. His articles on Joseph Brant and the {d-0}Iroquoian loyalists,{d-1} in the Annual transactions of the United Empire Loyalists{s-1-unknown} Association, extolled Chief Brant and others in the pro-British community among the Six Nations. His loyalist essay refers to {d-0}the early attachments and fidelity of the Iroquois to the British Crown.{d-1} Six Nations warriors also fought alongside British troops in the War of 1812 [see Tekarihogen*]. At the celebration in 1912 of the 100th anniversary of Sir Isaac Brock*{apos}s wartime victory at Queenston Heights, {d-0}Warrior F. Onondeyoh Loft{d-1} spoke on the same platform as Mohawk chief A. G. Smith (Dekanenraneh).

Whenever possible Loft returned to the Six Nations to visit his mother, a widow since his father{apos}s death in 1895. On Sundays at Forest Home, the ardent Anglican attended church. His niece, Bernice Loft Winslow (Dawendine), recalled that he practised his Mohawk after services but she noticed that, because he had been away for so many years, he had lost some of his fluency and occasionally put words in the wrong places. His daughter Henrietta, who spent many summers at Forest Home with her sister Affa, remembered {d-0}its wonderful trees, and woods. And an acre of violets by the house.... Organ & violin there, too - for music. Many visitors, and much, much laughter - My grandmother was well educated - But a woman of few words - plump & gentle, but she {s-0}ruled the roost.{s-1-unknown}{d-1}

Yet, despite this attachment to the Six Nations and his wide social acceptance, Fred Loft felt ashamed of his low-ranking civil service post and his legal status as a ward of the crown under the federal Indian Act. On 28 Jan. 1907 he wrote to Liberal prime minister Sir Wilfrid Laurier* that, with regard to his asylum job, {d-0}the position I hold, which is only a clerkship has never been to my way of thinking, a fitting recognition of what my labors meant. Worse than all my salary has been very small.{d-1} For whatever extras the family wanted, they depended on Affa{apos}s business activity. She bought and sold houses, rented to roomers, and owned stock. Their frequent changes of address in Toronto give the impression that the Lofts were drifters, but in fact they moved as a result of Affa{apos}s engagement in the local real-estate market.

In 1906 Loft had applied to enfranchise, that is, to give up his native status under the Indian Act, cease to be legally recognized as a ward, and become an ordinary citizen. Though he cherished his First Nation heritage, he also wanted to participate fully in the dominant society. After all, he had married a non-Indian and had joined the larger workforce. Once he learned that the Six Nations Council refused to endorse his application, however, he withdrew it. The council{apos}s reluctance to lose Onondeyoh had led him to reconsider, and he came forward with another plan.

Loft decided to apply for the post of superintendent of the Six Nations, the top federal job in the Grand River community. In his 1907 letter to Laurier, he explained: {d-0}There is perhaps nothing I have desired in my life more than becoming if possible the Superintendent of the Six Nations of Brant; should it be considered by your Government that one of themselves would be capable of performing the duties of the office.{d-1} One week later the council approved his application. Despite Loft{apos}s impeccable Liberal credentials and the council{apos}s endorsement, however, the government declined to make the appointment. Council still wanted him as superintendent, and in early January 1917 it again recommended his appointment, but without success.

After the outbreak of World War I, Loft, a loyal supporter of Britain, had visited reserves throughout Ontario to promote recruitment. In 1917, with three years of active militia service in Toronto, he was commissioned a lieutenant in a {d-0}forestry draft{d-1} on account of his early experience in the lumber industry. To qualify for overseas duty he had reduced his age at enlistment from 56 to 45. The examining doctor accepted him at his word; he stood just over 5 feet 11 inches, weighed 170 pounds, and was in good shape. All his adult life he had taken excellent physical care of himself. He never owned a car, always walked, and, according to his daughter Henrietta, exercised every morning.

Although Loft went to Britain with the 256th Infantry Battalion, which then helped man the 10th Railway Battalion, he was later transferred to the Canadian Forestry Corps. In France, he liked the area and the people where the corps was stationed. {d-0}I have fallen in love with the country, its people and the language which I{apos}m making every possible effort to familiarize by nightly study,{d-1} he wrote on 6 Dec. 1917 in a letter to a civil-service friend in Canada. On 7 August, during his half-year absence overseas, the Six Nations Council had conferred on him a pine tree chieftainship, an honour given only to the most outstanding members of the Grand River Iroquois Confederacy. As the council{apos}s representative, he met with King George V at Buckingham Palace on 21 Feb. 1918, just before leaving for Canada.

On his return the Mohawk veteran dreamed of how he could help the First Nations: he would work to persuade the government to improve the standard of education it offered them. More day and high schools should be established on reserves. This goal became one of the main objectives of the League of Indians of Canada, which Loft founded in December 1918 at the Council House in Ohsweken, on the Six Nations Reserve. The centuries-old Iroquois League inspired Loft to found this pan-Indian organization, the first in Canada, though he may have been aware of the collective potential in such regional alliances as the Allied Indian Tribes of British Columbia [see James Alexander Teit*]. First Nations throughout the country had already been greatly irritated by the federal government, which in 1911 amended the Indian Act to permit the expropriation of reserves adjacent to or within large towns. The delegates to the Ohsweken meeting in 1918 denounced the change. As Loft stressed in his circular letter of 26 Nov. 1919 to native groups across Canada, the First Nations needed to {d-0}free themselves from the domination of officialdom.{d-1} The new league held annual meetings at Sault Ste Marie, Ont. (1919), Elphinstone, Man. (1920), Thunderchild Reserve, Sask. (1921), and Hobbema, Alta (1922). As its first president and secretary-treasurer, Loft attempted to deal with every complaint that reached him. The Toronto Daily Mail and Empire later recalled in his obituary that, before and after organizing the league, {d-0}he travelled for years almost continuously fixing up a trapper{apos}s dispute, appealing to officials at Ottawa for justice to his clients, after the war helping the Indian veterans who were entitled to pensions.{d-1} To encourage membership and attendance at the annual meetings, he sent circulars to band chiefs and individual Indians alike. He did so largely at his own expense, since, despite his appeals, he received little financial support.

Duncan Campbell Scott*, the deputy superintendent general of Indian Affairs, regarded Loft as a subversive and the league as a roadblock to efficient administration. To destroy its effectiveness, he focused on Loft. Under another amendment to the Indian Act, passed in July 1920, Scott tried to have his Indian status removed, to enfranchise him in effect. In a statement to a special committee of the House of Commons in April, Loft had presented the league{apos}s position on compulsory enfranchisement. The league did not oppose it {d-0}so long as it is based upon educative ideals and a proper training for the eventual assumption of the individual for the higher status of citizenship involving all its responsibilities.{d-1} But how, the president added, could the government consider such a policy when {d-0}scarcely five per cent of the adult population of the reserves are capable of corresponding intelligently.{d-1}

Loft{apos}s stance on enfranchisement reveals him as a moderate, anxious for his people to enter into the larger society around them. In contrast, Levi General [Deskaheh*], a Cayuga chief in the Six Nations Council and a member of the Longhouse community, did not want the Iroquois to join the dominant society. Instead, he worked to secure international acceptance of the Six Nations as a sovereign entity. His agitation greatly upset Loft. In a letter of 18 Dec. 1922 on the sovereignty question to William Lyon Mackenzie King*, the new Liberal prime minister, he emphasized that he saw the Six Nations as subjects of His Majesty, {d-0}in no degree differing from the acknowledged and accepted status of other Indians of Canada.{d-1} The Cayuga chief, Loft stated pointedly, {d-0}holds no mandate from the people of the Six Nations to warrant his actions.{d-1}

As a result of King{apos}s abolition of compulsory enfranchisement earlier in 1922, Scott{apos}s attempt to have Loft{apos}s Indian status removed failed, but he still saw the moderate Mohawk as a radical, every bit as dangerous as Deskaheh. The department{apos}s continual opposition to the League of Indians hampered its growth. Loft{apos}s minimal resources, particularly after he retired from the civil service in 1926, held back expansion. Then, his move to Chicago with his wife for four years (1926-30) because of her poor health made it difficult for him to coordinate league activities. After his return to Toronto, he did his best to resume his work. For example, on 17 Nov. 1932 the Toronto Daily Star reported his belief that the jailing of some Indians for poaching under provincial game laws was contrary to their rights under the British North America Act. Such outspokenness did nothing to divert Scott{apos}s critical attention. In the early 1930s he briefly considered criminal charges against Loft for attempting to raise money for land-claim issues. At the same time, Loft{apos}s health was deteriorating. He died in Toronto in July 1934.

By this time the League of Indians, apart from its branches in Alberta and Saskatchewan, had effectively become defunct. Other leaders nonetheless took up Fred Loft{apos}s cause of a nationwide Indian organization, most recently the National Indian Brotherhood, formed in 1968, and its successor, the Assembly of First Nations, chartered in 1985. The First Nations of Canada owe a great deal to Onondeyoh/Fred Loft, an early 20th-century political visionary.

This biography is largely based on the author{apos}s unpublished article {d-0}Onondeyoh: the Grand River and Toronto background of Fred Loft (1861-1934), an important early twentieth century First Nations political leader{d-1} (presented at the Conference on Twentieth Century Canadian Nationalisms sponsored by the Organization for the History of Canada, Univ. of Toronto, 16-18 March 2001). A copy is available in Loft{apos}s file at the DCB. Loft{apos}s articles on Indian issues include: {d-0}The future of the Indian,{d-1} Globe, 8 Feb. 1908: 8; {d-0}The Indian and education,{d-1} Saturday Night (Toronto), 12, 19 June and 3, 17 July 1909; and {d-0}Indian reminiscences of 1812,{d-1} Saturday Night, 11 Sept. 1909. His addresses to the United Empire Loyalists{s-1-unknown} Assoc. of Canada were published as: {d-0}Captain Joseph Brant, - Thayendanega (head chief and warrior of the Six Nations),{d-1} United Empire Loyalists{s-1-unknown} Assoc. of Canada, Annual trans., 1904 to 1913 (Brampton, Ont., 1914), 57-61; and {d-0}Iroquoian loyalists,{d-1} Annual trans., 1914 to 1916 (Toronto, 1917), 68-79.

LAC, R10383-0-6; R10811-0-X, 118777, 118779; RG 10, 2285, file 57169-1B, pt.3. Daily Mail and Empire (Toronto), 7 July 1934. Toronto Daily Star, 8 Feb. 1907 (interview with Loft), 11 Feb. 1907, 6 July 1934. Peter Kulchyski, {d-0}{s-0}A considerable unrest{s-1-unknown}: F. O. Loft and the League of Indians,{d-1} Native Studies Rev. (Saskatoon), 4 (1988): 95-117. R. R. H. Lueger, {d-0}History of Indian associations in Canada (1870-1970){d-1} (MA thesis, Carleton Univ., Ottawa, 1977). J. L. Taylor, Canadian Indian policy during the inter-war years, 1918-1939 (Ottawa, 1984). E. B. Titley, A narrow vision: Duncan Campbell Scott and the administration of Indian Affairs in Canada (Vancouver, 1986).

ROWELL, NEWTON WESLEY, lawyer, churchman, politician, and judge; b. 1 Nov. 1867 on a farm near St John{apos}s (Arva), Ont., fourth child and second son of Joseph Rowell and Nancy Green; brother of Sarah Alice Rowell*; m. 27 June 1901 Nellie Langford in Owen Sound, Ont., and they had three sons and one daughter; d. 22 Nov. 1941 in Toronto.

Newton Rowell{apos}s family was rooted in the moderate Reform movement of Robert Baldwin* in Upper Canada and the social conservatism of British Wesleyanism; these traditions shaped his early life and informed his later years. His father, a farmer and Methodist lay preacher, had migrated from Cumberland, England, in 1842 with his wife and several children and taken a farm at St John{apos}s, close to London. His second marriage was to Nancy Green, 20 years younger than Joseph and eldest daughter of a local family of English-Irish origins. Following six years in the village school, Newton took a short commercial course in London early in 1883, and then worked there for three years in an uncle{apos}s wholesale dry-goods business. His maternal grandmother had often regaled listeners with tales of how her Reformer father, Henry Coyne, had led resistance against the autocratic settlement methods of the {d-0}Lake Erie baron,{d-1} Thomas Talbot*, but had strongly opposed the rebellion of 1837-38 [see William Lyon Mackenzie*]. Her stories gave her grandson an early introduction to history; lectures at the London Mechanics{s-1-unknown} Institute and the home reading courses of the Chautauqua movement helped him to pass high school matriculation examinations in 1886. By this time, he had decided to become a lawyer.

That autumn Rowell, too poor to attend university, took the commonly followed route of joining a legal firm. Experience and study at Fraser and Fraser would prepare him to enter his chosen profession. In the fall of 1890 he made a three-months{s-1-unknown} trip to western Canada to collect debts owed to London farm-implements distributors, travelling by Great Lakes steamers to Port Arthur (Thunder Bay), then on the Canadian Pacific Railway to Vancouver, and finally home through the United States. An Upper Canadian had become a Canadian with a vision of a {d-0}new Ontario{d-1} in the west.

Rowell{apos}s rise in the legal profession was accompanied by increasing prominence in the Methodist Church and in the Liberal Party. In November 1889 he had been designated a Methodist lay preacher, in 1892 he was the youngest man ever elected a lay delegate to the church{apos}s Toronto Conference, and he was in constant demand as a lay preacher and champion of the temperance movement. Despite a rather thin, high-pitched voice and a reputation in some quarters for excessive seriousness and an addiction to statistics, he could command audiences in diverse settings. He spoke on behalf of younger Liberals at a testimonial dinner when Sir Oliver Mowat* retired from the premiership in 1896. In the federal election held on 7 Nov. 1900 he was defeated in York East, near Toronto, by Conservative William Findlay Maclean*. A primary issue in the contest was Canada{apos}s part in the South African War. Although Rowell thought otherwise, he did not publicly deviate from Prime Minister Sir Wilfrid Laurier*{apos}s assurances that sending volunteers to South Africa would not be a precedent. Rowell believed that participation in the conflict could demonstrate Canada{apos}s growing importance in the empire, and the fact that English and French soldiers were fighting side by side might break down cultural barriers. Ironically, his campaign was weakened by English-French acrimony arising from the attitudes and utterances of Quebec MP Joseph-Israël Tarte*.

Admiring the way Rowell accepted his defeat was Nellie Langford, who had graduated with a degree in modern languages from Toronto{apos}s Victoria University in 1896. Her father was the Reverend Alexander Langford, in whose home Rowell had been a welcome visitor over some years. Their marriage in June 1901 was followed by a honeymoon in Britain, where they visited places of religious and literary interest. They were in London in September for the third Ecumenical Methodist Conference. To delegates from around the world Rowell delivered a passionate speech on the mission of Canadian Methodism to connect the Britons and North Americans, {d-0}the two great branches of the Anglo-Saxon race ... one in Providential design and purpose for the world{apos}s evangelisation.{d-1} He enjoyed the opportunity to meet church leaders and listened to debates on how Methodist social concerns should be expressed in an industrial society. Soon after his arrival in Toronto he had begun working at the Fred Victor Mission, which promoted welfare and evangelism among the poor and was financed chiefly by Hart Almerrin Massey*, and he was active in the fight against Sunday streetcars, which was finally lost in 1900. He became superintendent of Metropolitan Church{apos}s Sunday school shortly after his marriage; at the 1902 General Conference he opposed any change to the Methodist discipline with its proscription of dancing, card-playing, and theatre-going, and he was against making it easier for women to be elected to church courts. Faith was important in the home he built in the exclusive Rosedale district in 1904: there were family prayers before breakfast, and the children, William Langford and Mary Coyne, listened to their father tell Bible stories on Sunday evenings. Religious certainty provided consolation when, in 1908, his second son, Edward Newton, died suddenly and inexplicably at the age of seven months.

The professional side of Rowell{apos}s life flourished. Appointed a KC in 1902, he had become the senior partner in his own law firm, Rowell, Reid, and Wood, in the following year. Most of his cases concerned the interests of companies financed by American capital invested in northern Ontario, some of them closely related to the Liberal Party. He had been a key figure in restructuring the businesses of entrepreneur Francis Hector Clergue* through the creation of the Consolidated Lake Superior Corporation and subsequently represented the Ontario government on its board of directors. Solicitor for the Algoma Central Railway and for the Nipigon Pulp and Paper Company, he had defended the expropriation procedures of the town of Kenora against the Keewatin Power Company and the Hudson{apos}s Bay Company in 1907-8.

Early in 1909 Rowell engaged in public battle against the general superintendent of the church and chairman of the board of regents of Victoria University, Albert Carman*. The issue was whether George Jackson, a Methodist minister from Britain, was qualified to be professor of English Bible. In 1906 Rowell and Joseph Wesley Flavelle* had been instrumental in bringing Jackson to Canada as minister to the wealthy Sherbourne Street Church [see Nathanael Burwash*]. With other members of the board, they welcomed Jackson{apos}s understanding of the Bible as the revelation of spiritual truth and not as history or science. For 18 months Rowell prepared for {d-0}the Jackson case{d-1} as carefully as for any legal defence. At the General Conference of the church in 1910 Rowell, other Jackson supporters, and higher criticism carried the day. His most immediate concern had been that {d-0}a barren theological controversy{d-1} would damage the national congress of the Laymen{apos}s Missionary Movement in Canada, held in Toronto from 31 March to 4 April 1909. As the organization{apos}s moving spirit, Rowell had declared to an audience of some 4,000 that Canada had a providential mission in evangelizing the world. In June 1910 he had been in Edinburgh as a delegate to the World Missionary Conference, the largest ecumenical gathering in Christian history.

Although Rowell had rarely appeared on political platforms after the defeat of Liberal premier George William Ross*{apos}s government in 1905, he had devoted much thought to political developments. What spurred him into active participation was Laurier{apos}s achievement, announced in the House of Commons on 26 Jan. 1911, of an agreement permitting free trade in natural products with the United States. A revolt by Liberal business leaders such as Sir Byron Edmund Walker* and John Craig Eaton* was based on the fear that reciprocity would eventually include manufactured goods. In the September election Rowell campaigned vigorously across Ontario for the agreement. A second issue was imperial defence; he fully supported Laurier{apos}s plan for a navy available to Britain with the consent of the Canadian parliament. In October, after the rout of the federal Liberals, Conservative premier Sir James Pliny Whitney* called an Ontario election. The head of the provincial opposition, Alexander Grant MacKay, had abruptly resigned because of scandalous accusations, and the Liberals turned to Rowell, regarded as incorruptible. He accepted on assurances that the party was ready {d-0}to take advanced ground on the question of temperance as well as other questions of social reform.{d-1} The press aptly portrayed the new leader as {d-0}Moses in the wilderness.{d-1} On 11 December he won a safe seat in Oxford North; his party secured 20 others, a gain of two.

Now leader of the opposition, Rowell took on the task of party reorganization. He had advice and considerable financial support from a group that included Alfred Ernest Ames*, Edward Rogers WOOD, James Henry Gundy*, William Edward RUNDLE, Frederick Herbert Deacon, and the publisher of the Toronto Daily Star, Joseph E. ATKINSON, Methodists all. The Liberals could do little except criticize the Whitney government{apos}s policies. These included Regulation 17, which limited the teaching of French in schools [see Philippe Landry*], and a workmen{apos}s compensation act. During the June 1914 election a better-run party made its slogan {d-0}abolish the bar.{d-1} Rowell declared that the battle was between {d-0}organized Christianity{d-1} and {d-0}the organized liquor interests.{d-1} The result was a gain of only four seats. As long as the wealthy could drink in their private clubs, most of Ontario{apos}s working-men were not prepared to give up their beer in return for promises of social insurance, nor did they wish to extend the franchise to women, who were believed to favour prohibition. But a little more than two years later the Ontario Temperance Act, unanimously passed, would end the sale of all liquor, and in February 1917 the government, now headed by Sir William Howard HEARST, would give women the vote, although not the right to sit in the legislature as a motion made by Rowell would have allowed.

The reason for the patriotic ban of liquor sales and the enfranchisement of women was not far to seek. A few weeks after the 1914 election Canada was in Britain{apos}s war against Germany. Rowell was active in establishing bipartisan agencies to mobilize Ontario{apos}s war effort. In speeches he frequently declared that working-men could not be asked to sacrifice their lives unless their society{apos}s post-war conditions were to be better than those of the present, when 65 per cent of the population owned only 5 per cent of the wealth. He saw Canada{apos}s initial response to the war as magnificent, but recruiting became more difficult, especially in Quebec. Early in 1916 he welcomed Prime Minister Sir Robert Laird Borden*{apos}s announcement that the armed forces would be increased to 500,000. Laurier had agreed to a one-year parliamentary extension to avoid an election that would exacerbate tensions caused by attitudes towards recruitment and the war that placed Quebec in opposition to the rest of Canada.

A group of Toronto Liberals wanted Rowell to assess Britain{apos}s situation and under Peter Charles Larkin* they raised the money for a two-month trip. Although reluctant to go for personal reasons - his third son, Frederick Newton Alexander, was only six weeks old and Nell was still recovering from the birth - he sailed for London at the end of June. There and in Paris he gained first-hand information about the war efforts of Britain and France and visited the front. He delivered his lengthy report in September, but had little hope that the prime minister would ensure {d-0}the radical change{d-1} needed in a government whose prosecution of the war was weakened by {d-0}indecision, incapacity, and graft.{d-1} Borden, who had to cope with the difficulties caused by Minister of Militia and Defence Sir Samuel Hughes*, was not particularly receptive. However, Rowell made no public criticism. He was convinced that an effective war effort demanded the cooperation of all parties. After repeated efforts to persuade Laurier and then Ontario Liberals such as George Perry GRAHAM to enter a coalition, Rowell finally accepted Borden{apos}s invitation to do so himself just before the formation of the Union government was announced on 13 Oct. 1917. Rowell had stipulated that leading Liberals from the west and the Maritimes must also join. Among those who were won over were James Alexander Calder*, Thomas Alexander Crerar*, Arthur Lewis Watkins Sifton*, Frank Broadstreet Carvell*, and Alexander Kenneth MACLEAN; regrettably, no French Liberal from Quebec could be found to support conscription. Although some, dubious that principles and policy could be more important than party, questioned his motives, the Toronto Liberals who supported Rowell remained solidly behind him. They had believed that they were coaching a future prime minister, but they understood that his commitment to conscription, which had come into effect in August, might limit his political prospects.

Rowell entered the Union government as president of the Privy Council, a position usually held by the prime minister, and as vice-chairman of the War Committee, with Borden as nominal chairman. He thus had primary responsibility for organizing the war effort, including enforcement of conscription. At first he relied heavily on the advice of his close friend Rundle, president of the National Trust Company. Both men fully intended to show that the new government, as the Globe (Toronto) urged, had the will {d-0}to lay a firm hand on the machinery of Big Business, and make it work for the State,{d-1} although Flavelle had already made the Imperial Munitions Board enormously productive.

After an election was called for 17 December, Rowell had less time to give to the War Committee. A most difficult problem was deciding who would run for the Unionists in Ontario: at dissolution the Conservatives held 70 seats there, the Liberals 12. He tackled the problem with John Dowsley Reid*. The sincere commitment of Borden and Rowell to equality of party representation was rarely shared at local levels, a fact Rowell was slow to realize. He eventually ran in Durham, east of Toronto, where the sitting Conservative member, Robert Alexander Mulholland, was persuaded to withdraw on a promise of appointment to the Senate. In a campaign that was both ferocious and divisive Rowell{apos}s oratorical prowess reached its zenith. He declared that he was willing to accept any political label if he could help the men {d-0}fighting for Canada and pouring out their very life blood on the fields of France and Flanders.{d-1} Voters, he said, were deciding {d-0}the future of Canada, the future of our empire, and the cause of human liberty.... It is the struggle of the Pagan belief against the Christian.... A man in casting his ballot reveals to his God his own character.{d-1} The War-time Elections Act, passed in September [see Arthur Meighen*], had enfranchised the immediate female relatives of those actively serving in the armed forces, while {d-0}enemy aliens{d-1} naturalized since 1902 had been deprived of the vote unless they had close male relatives fighting abroad, a measure of which Rowell had disapproved. The Methodist Church, whose pulpits were widely used as recruiting platforms, strongly supported conscription of both men and wealth and cited Rowell as a patriotic Liberal and an example to be followed. The election results divided Canada between French and English as never before: Unionists held 153 seats and the Laurier Liberals 82, all but 20 of them in Quebec. Rowell, who won Durham with a substantial margin, declared that if French Canadians would now fight for their country, Canada would enjoy a unity previously unknown.

As the new parliament opened on 18 March 1918, Rowell was under doctor{apos}s orders to take life more easily; his rather frail health had been taxed by chronic overwork. During the debate on the speech from the throne after he had gone home exhausted, Charles Murphy*, an Irish Catholic and former member of the Laurier cabinet, delivered a two-hour denunciation of Rowell{apos}s whole career, centring on a charge of {d-0}conspiracy{d-1} to overthrow Laurier on behalf of a {d-0}cult of commercialized Christianity.{d-1} Murphy{apos}s purpose was clear: he wanted to reduce Rowell{apos}s influence, ensure his exclusion from post-war politics, and make certain that the rift in the Liberal Party, both nationally and provincially, would be permanent. Rowell decided not to waste precious energy on a reply. All that mattered was prosecution of the war. The most urgent requirement was the enforcement of the Military Service Act. In the face of riots in Quebec City from 28 March to the night of 1-2 April [see Georges Demenle*; François-Louis Lessard*] and discontent everywhere with methods of granting exemptions, the government maintained that the act was being administered impartially. Returning to his responsibilities for the War Committee, Rowell pushed for greater cooperation from organized labour. He received only a lukewarm response. The voluntary mobilization of industry proved no easier, although the appointment of a War Trade Board and a Canadian War Mission in Washington had potential. His vow to levy substantial taxes on business profits brought him into sharp conflict with some of his friends such as Gundy, an investment dealer recently appointed to the board. Gundy resisted Rowell{apos}s determination to tax meat packers at the rate of 11 per cent on investment; their mutual friend, Flavelle, who had recently received a baronetcy, had also argued that the proposed rate was too high, although a royal commission had found that in 1916 Flavelle{apos}s enterprise, the William Davies Company, made an 80 per cent return on meat sales to Britain, a profit Flavelle contended was due to increased volume. In March 1918 an order-in-council limited packers{s-1-unknown} profits to Rowell{apos}s preferred rate. The increases in other taxes on business and in personal income tax were less than he had suggested; aware of growing unrest among labourers, he had hoped to equalize the financial sacrifices demanded by the war. However, as chairman of a special house committee on veterans{s-1-unknown} pensions, he was gratified by agreement to the most generous pension scale provided by any of the Allies. He applauded the government{apos}s extension of the operation of the Civil Service Commission to the 35,000 federal employees outside the national capital as {d-0}the most radical [reform of a civil service] ... that has ever been made at one stroke in any country.{d-1} This measure was a step towards eliminating patronage, as was the broadening of the War Purchasing Commission{apos}s jurisdiction to all government departments. He also rejoiced in parliament{apos}s request that the crown cease to confer hereditary titles on Canadians except by consent of the Canadian cabinet [see William Folger Nickle*].

On 27 May 1918 Borden, with Rowell, Calder, and Meighen, sailed from New York to attend meetings of the imperial war cabinet and the Imperial War Conference in London. The prime minister wished to demonstrate his commitment to equal representation between Conservatives and Liberals, and valued Rowell{apos}s knowledge on foreign affairs. Rowell departed for home at the end of July after visiting Canadian forces in France and devoting weeks of strenuous effort to gathering useful information. He concluded that what Borden already believed was correct: British politicians, bureaucrats, and generals had little to teach their Canadian counterparts about running a war or an empire. The Canadian contribution to the war was a powerful argument for changing the imperial structure.

At the war{apos}s end on 11 Nov. 1918 Rowell, as president of the Privy Council, led the service of thanksgiving on Parliament Hill. Borden was already on his way to Europe to ensure that Canada had a voice in the making of peace. Rowell told the quietly jubilant crowd: {d-0}To-day marks the close of the old order and dawn of the new. It is the coronation day of democracy.{d-1} During the next few weeks he made speeches hailing {d-0}the new order,{d-1} whose hallmarks would be the {d-0}defence of the weak in every walk of life{d-1} by governments and vastly more cooperation between employers and employees. Many of Rowell{apos}s Conservative colleagues in cabinet, such as minister of finance Sir William Thomas White*, were less than enthusiastic about much of this agenda, which included subsidized housing, health promotion, and improved educational opportunities. Methodist Conservatives were even more alarmed when pronouncements by their church began to sound as if it had become a socialist body. The report of the Committee on Evangelism and Social Service, for instance, had advocated a greater role for labour in managing industry, a national system of old-age insurance, and the nationalization of natural resources.

Major government decisions had to wait until Borden returned from Britain, where he was defending Canada{apos}s autonomy with Rowell{apos}s hearty approval. Since joining the cabinet, he had revised his initially tepid opinion of Borden, with whom he had worked well. They agreed on Canada{apos}s position within the empire, and Borden relied on Rowell to formulate much of the government{apos}s domestic agenda. In the prime minister{apos}s absence he had the unenviable task of trying to explain to a divided cabinet and a sceptical public the dispatch of 4,000 Canadian troops under James Harold Elmsley on an imperial venture to Siberia. Rowell changed his mind on the merit of the original decision, but after Borden{apos}s return he continued to carry publicly much of the burden for justifying an obscure action through the Department of Public Information, which had been created late in 1917 as part of the Privy Council Office.

In June 1919 Winnipeg workers made clear the force of their demands for a better world and staged a general strike, the biggest labour demonstration in Canadian history [see Mike Sokolowiski*]. Rowell, well known to be sympathetic to labour, was in a decidedly awkward position. He praised the democratic and law-abiding intentions of the majority of workers and their leaders, yet he also expressed the fears of the Winnipeg business community that the Bolshevik ideas of One Big Union had infiltrated the leadership of the strike and that a full-blown revolution was brewing in western Canada. Although the strike was remarkably peaceful, when violence erupted briefly he defended the use of the RNWMP to restore order. Quebec Liberals, especially Lucien Cannon and Ernest LAPOINTE, made sure that Rowell was vilified for both the temporary loss of order and the means used to deal with it. In the fall of 1919 Rowell had the opportunity to promise better relations between workers and employers on the international stage. Together with the minister of labour, Gideon Decker Robertson*, he spoke for the Canadian government at the founding conference of the International Labour Organization in Washington, where he was at loggerheads with Conservative Methodist Silas Richard Parsons*, a representative of Canadian business who would have nothing to do with unions of any type. Rowell made clear both his government{apos}s responsibility for setting workplace policy and his country{apos}s independence of American decisions.

By the end of the summer of 1919 the federal government had established Canada{apos}s first Department of Health with Rowell as the minister charged with its organization. It was a weak version of what he had wanted to call the Department of Social Welfare: both sides of parliament had put up stiff resistance to {d-0}ill-defined{d-1} provisions for extending federal influence into matters of provincial jurisdiction. His work as chairman of a cabinet committee on housing suffered a similar fate when the federal government was left with only the power to advise the provinces. He also failed to persuade his colleagues that veterans whose university studies had been interrupted by war service should receive financial assistance to complete their education, or that federal prohibition measures of 1916 should be extended past 31 Dec. 1919 (in the next year British Columbia allowed limited liquor sales, and other provinces soon followed).

On 1 July 1920 Borden announced his retirement and was succeeded by Meighen as prime minister and Conservative leader. Rowell believed that the Union government had enacted {d-0}more real progressive legislation ... than any other Government in Canadian history,{d-1} and he could not be part of the new administration. Foreseeing that Conservative policies would predominate and his attitudes towards social reform would be considered too {d-0}radical,{d-1} he had no difficulty in resisting Meighen{apos}s repeated urging to join his government, which assumed the name National Liberal and Conservative Party. Rowell resigned on 10 July, when the new administration took office. A few days later he and Nell sailed for a holiday in England. Their plans were radically altered by the suggestion of Leopold Charles Maurice Stennett Amery, undersecretary of state for the colonies, that they enjoy a relaxed tour of South Africa and the British colonies in eastern Africa, all arrangements to be made by him. After three months of observing fresh landscapes, varying forms of government, race relations, and Christian missions, Rowell, on Meighen{apos}s invitation, joined Sir George Eulas Foster* and Doherty in Geneva to represent Canada at the first assembly of the League of Nations in November.

As he prepared for his role on a world stage he had never felt {d-0}less ... like saying of any nation it is Divinely called to lead the world.{d-1} He came to believe that the greatest impediments to peace were the instability caused by the Russian revolution, the failure of the United States to join the League of Nations, and the excessive reparations imposed on Germany. He soon acquired a prominent position in the league{apos}s assembly. As part of a consistent effort to assert Canadian autonomy and protect the interests of less powerful nations, he electrified the assembly by declaring that European policies had {d-0}drenched this world in blood.... Fifty thousand Canadians under the soil of France and Flanders is what Canada has paid for European statesmanship.{d-1} Such oratory offended many Europeans, but it raised Rowell{apos}s prestige at home, especially when leading British newspapers and the American press concurred that he was among {d-0}the eight or ten leading figures{d-1} at the assembly. Rowell would become certain that the most important achievements of the league were the establishment of the Permanent Court of International Justice and the International Labour Organization.

Early in 1921 he returned to his old law firm and strengthened his connections within the business community; in 1925 he would become president of the Toronto General Trusts Company. Still an MP, he privately advised Meighen, and reported to the house on the significance of the league. Lucien Cannon once more attacked Rowell, this time with the charge that he was encouraging Canada to meddle in affairs that were none of its business. When Rowell urged the immediate appointment of a Canadian ambassador to Washington he was met by more {d-0}little Canadianism,{d-1} this time from William Stevens Fielding*. Irregularly attending the house, Rowell spent much of his time traversing the nation to speak on international affairs and what he saw as Canada{apos}s role. One of his strongest interests was creating support for the League of Nations, which led him to organize and help finance the League of Nations Society in Canada; it eventually had branches from Halifax to Victoria. Primarily on the strength of his service to the league, the University of Toronto conferred on him an honorary doctorate in June 1921. In November he delivered there the Burwash Memorial Lectures, established in honour of Nathanael Burwash. As always, he aimed to inspire as well as instruct. His approach was historical, his primary theme the conviction that the success of the League of Nations would depend on widespread recognition that a transnational political organization was essential for a peaceful world and human survival. The Christian church had a particular responsibility to foster solutions to international problems, especially through missionary work in education and medicine. The lectures were published as The British empire and world peace (Toronto, 1922).

No honour could compensate him for the greatest personal sorrow of his life. In the spring of 1923 his son Langford, an arts student and athlete at Victoria University, died of blood poisoning. He had planned to study law and enter his father{apos}s firm. Responding to Sir John Stephen Willison*{apos}s letter of sympathy, Rowell said that he took comfort in his faith and the duty to continue {d-0}helping all one can.{d-1}

Rowell{apos}s work for his church had involved him in discussions on church union since the early years of the century. In 1904 he had been appointed to the first joint committee of the Methodist, Presbyterian, and Congregational churches, and in 1925 he was the leading layman in the creation of the United Church of Canada, which he saw as strengthening Protestantism at home and improving the effectiveness of missionary work overseas. Besides carrying out extensive legal work for the pro-union cause, he addressed rallies in several Ontario centres. He would chair the church{apos}s committee on peace and war; at the third General Council in Winnipeg during the fall of 1928 its report asserted the Christian{apos}s responsibility to encourage peace.

After the election of December 1921 Rowell had observed from the sidelines as Liberal prime minister William Lyon Mackenzie KING learned to manage a minority government dependent on Quebec and the new farmer-labour Progressive Party. After winning a substantial majority in September 1926, King proposed to make Rowell minister of customs to clean up serious scandals in the Department of Customs and Excise [see Jacques Bureau*]. He hastily withdrew the offer when Ontario Liberal advisers registered their doubt that Rowell could be elected in any Ontario seat: the French and Irish Catholic vote, the German vote, the anti-prohibitionists, the anti-conscriptionists, and the continuing Presbyterians would all be against him. King recorded that Rowell {d-0}displayed a very nice spirit{d-1} and agreed to be counsel for the commission King would set up to investigate the department. That fall, while Rowell worked on this assignment, the prime minister was in London at the Imperial Conference, which turned the empire into a commonwealth of autonomous nations. Rowell approved of this result; he would also be satisfied with the commission{apos}s report, tabled early in 1928, containing proposals for the customs department{apos}s reorganization and a recommendation that liquor-export houses be closed.

Rowell had acted as secretary of state for external affairs during several of Borden{apos}s absences; the under-secretary, Sir Joseph Pope*, considered him {d-0}the best I have ever served under, at all times accessible, courteous, patient, and one who quickly and decisively makes up his mind, an invaluable quality in a minister.{d-1} Eager for the department{apos}s growth, he was delighted when, in November 1926, Charles Vincent Massey* was finally appointed to represent Canada to the United States. Convinced that it now mattered more than ever that Canadians be well informed about the world, Rowell was one of the founding members of the Canadian Institute of International Affairs. The institute, formally established in January 1928, was affiliated with the Institute of Pacific Relations and the Royal Institute of International Affairs.

His freedom from parliamentary duties meant that he had time for the travel he found so enjoyable and intellectually stimulating, with or without family members. In 1922 he had been in France, Germany, Belgium, and the Netherlands; later trips took him to China, Japan, Hawaii, Australia, New Zealand, and Russia. He was often in London because of legal judgements referred to the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council. One that received general public attention was the persons case. In 1928 the Supreme Court of Canada turned down his argument on behalf of Emily Gowan Murphy [Ferguson*] and four other Alberta women that the terms of section 24 of the British North America Act, which stated that the governor general was to appoint {d-0}qualified Persons{d-1} to the Senate, included women. A year later, following presentations by Rowell and others, the Privy Council declared that women were {d-0}persons,{d-1} Lord Sankey asserting that a constitution was {d-0}a living tree capable of growth.{d-1}

The 1930s brought Rowell personal happiness, many plaudits, and new responsibilities. On 26 April 1930 his daughter, Mary, married Henry Rutherford Jackman*, a Conservative lawyer of Methodist background, whose character his future father-in-law had carefully investigated. His first grandchild, Henry Newton Rowell Jackman, a future lieutenant governor of Ontario, would be born three years later. In the spring of 1932 a group of clergy and laymen wished to nominate him as the first lay moderator of the United Church of Canada, an election he would stand an excellent chance of winning. The former president of Victoria University, Richard Pinch Bowles, who was a pacifist and a socialist, urged him to lead the church in the tumultuous times created by the Great Depression: he believed Rowell to be {d-0}a practical mystic{d-1} who understood the divisive social issues, enjoyed the esteem of both conservatives and Christian socialists, and respected those of differing opinions. Rowell declined to run, declaring that he had neither the energy nor the time to devote two years to the work. That year he was elected president of the Canadian Institute of International Affairs and of the Canadian Bar Association, and became an honorary bencher of Lincoln{apos}s Inn, a greatly prized honour that had been conferred on only one other Canadian, Richard Bedford BENNETT. Early in 1936 he enthusiastically accepted the task of defending the former prime minister{apos}s New Deal legislation before the Supreme Court of Canada. King{apos}s government was reluctant to implement measures that would require federal intervention in provincial areas of responsibility. Rowell favoured reforms that would have regulated business procedures and improved working conditions, and he was disappointed when most of the legislation was judged to be out of federal jurisdiction. He was to argue the appeal before the judicial committee.

In September, before he could leave for London, Rowell was offered the position of Chief Justice of Ontario, which he accepted after much deliberation. He was primarily engaged in cases of corporation law during his tenure, which had lasted for just under a year when King asked him to chair the royal commission on dominion-provincial relations. Its mandate was to examine the balance of powers and responsibilities between the federal and provincial governments. Among the commissioners were Rowell{apos}s friend John Wesley DAFOE and notary Joseph SIROIS. Rowell hesitated because he realized that he would have less time to give to his judiciary responsibilities and he had concerns about his health. After preparatory visits to provincial capitals in September and October, public hearings opened in Winnipeg on 29 Nov. 1937. As the commission moved through western Canada, the chairman displayed his vast knowledge and unfailing courtesy, winning the plaudits of critical journalists. The commission was in Toronto when, on 7 May 1938, Rowell suffered a heart attack, followed by a stroke that robbed him of speech. In November his resignations from the commission and from his position as chief justice were accepted, and Sirois took over as chairman. Rowell died three years later. The Rowell-Sirois report, as it is generally known, was completed in 1940. It had paid warm tribute to his intellect and character, recognizing his work in the commission{apos}s preparation and early stages. There is no doubt that he would have approved the recommendations for minimum standards of education and social services for all Canadians, an outline for the development of the welfare state that would come into being after World War II.

At Rowell{apos}s request there was no eulogy at his funeral at Metropolitan Church. His son, Frederick, wore the uniform of the Royal Canadian Air Force, a reminder that disarmament and the League of Nations had both failed. Most of the public comment was summarized by Bernard Keble Sandwell*, editor of Saturday Night (Toronto), under the heading {d-0}What Canada missed.{d-1} He asked why Rowell had not been permitted to play a larger role in the country{apos}s development, and declared that neither his {d-0}austerity{d-1} nor his apparent disregard for party explained it. {d-0}A mature democracy does not reject great men for either of these reasons.{d-1}

Newton Wesley Rowell{apos}s success as a politician was limited by his belief that if reasonable men discussed issues they would reach reasonable decisions. Methodist Arminianism may have been the origin of his naive hope that businessmen of his time could be persuaded that, if not from a sense of social justice, then in their own interest they should practise concern for their employees, and that dictators could be stopped by exhortation. However circumscribed his public impact, his personal reward was in doing what he believed to be right.

Newton Wesley Rowell is the author of The British empire and world peace: being the Burwash Memorial Lectures, delivered in Convocation Hall, University of Toronto, November, 1921 (Toronto, 1922); Canada, a nation: Canadian constitutional developments (Toronto, 1923); and {d-0}Canada and the empire, 1884-1921,{d-1} in The Cambridge history of the British empire, ed. J. H. Rose et al. (8v. in 9, Cambridge, Eng., 1929-59), 6: 704-37. Many of Rowell{apos}s speeches have been made available in microform.

Joseph Sirois spent his childhood in Quebec City, where his father was a prominent notary. He did his classical studies at the Séminaire de Québec from 1892 to 1900 and was awarded a couple of prizes on graduation. He then enrolled in the Université Laval in the same city, and obtained his law degree, with high distinction, in 1903. His outstanding scholarly record earned him several awards, including the gold Governor General{apos}s Academic Medal. On leaving university, he was licensed as a notary. Like his father before him, he undertook to write a doctoral dissertation, which he submitted to the Université Laval in 1907. It was published under the title De la forme des testaments in Montreal that year. The choice of subject was in keeping with his professional concerns. Lacking in originality, the thesis resembled a treatise. As was the custom at the time, Sirois provided a long historical account of wills. The comparative approach led him to take an interest in French and English law in particular. Furthermore, while he attached great importance to the provisions of the Civil Code and to legal doctrine, he did not neglect case law. Sirois showed an early interest in intellectual pursuits, as one of his classmates would testify, describing him as obsessed with reading. He would retain this love of reading and books all his life. The family circle no doubt fostered this inclination towards study, since his elder sister, Marie Sirois*, also went to university and became the first woman to graduate from the Université Laval in Quebec City and the first French-speaking woman in her province to earn a university degree.

Immediately after graduating, Joseph had gone into practice as a notary with his father, Louis-Philippe, in an office at the corner of Rue Couillard and Rue Christie in what would become Vieux-Québec. By doing so he took his place in a dynastic progression since his father had succeeded his uncle, Alexandre-Benjamin Duplessis, dit Sirois, whose professional activities dated back to 1828. Subsequently Joseph had as partners Laurent Lesage from 1929, and his own son Lavery after he was licensed as a notary in 1937. They were both still members of the firm at the time of Joseph{apos}s death. His contemporaries, who described him as a scholar, an honest man, and a peerless practitioner, emphasized his skill in drafting legal instruments. Georges-Michel Giroux would write: {d-0}The documents of notary Sirois demonstrate not only the soundness of his doctrine, but also the care he had taken in examining each case in depth, and his talent for sorting out all the details. It is with reason that, among us, he was given the honorific {s-0}the prince of notaries.{s-1-unknown}{d-1} When Sirois died, his office files contained 11,809 notarial acts, an indication of his extensive activity as a notary. Besides numerous individuals, among them members of the elite (such as Sir Louis-Amable Jetté*, Sir François Langelier*, and Jules-Ernest Livernois*), Sirois had as clients religious congregations (Ursulines, Brothers of the Christian Schools, Sœurs de la Charité de Québec, and others), educational institutions (Séminaire de Québec, Université Laval, Quebec Technical School), hospitals (for instance, Hôpital Général in Quebec, Hôtel-Dieu de Lévis, and Hôpital de l{apos}Enfant-Jésus), several financial institutions (among them, Quebec Bank, Banque d{apos}Hochelaga, and Crédit Foncier Franco-Canadien), and various companies (such as Holt, Renfrew and Company; Dominion Corset Company; Canada Steamship Lines). His close ties with the world of finance account for his appointment as a director of some financial institutions, including, for example, the Banque Provinciale du Canada.

When notary Joseph-Edmond Roy* died in 1913, Sirois succeeded him as editor of La Revue du notariat. As well as coordinating the publication and doing editorial work, Sirois wrote several articles for this monthly periodical published in Lévis. His expertise led him to reply to colleagues who frequently brought him problems they had come up against in their daily practice. Sirois thus developed the column {d-0}Questions et Réponses,{d-1} which was very popular and certainly enhanced his renown among his colleagues, several of whom were his former students. Despite of his many responsibilities, he carried on as the journal{apos}s editor until the end of his days. Although he taught public law, Sirois never wrote on constitutional law or administrative law. His output was limited to civil law, and, indeed, was closely linked to notarial practice.

With the coming of the 20th century, Sirois, like many jurists, found the ideas of French sociologist and economist Frédéric Le Play persuasive. In 1905 he was one of the founders of the Société d{apos}Économie Sociale et Politique de Québec and was made its secretary. His experience in this kind of organization may have moved him to encourage young notaries not to limit themselves to a {d-0}selfish and solitary{d-1} practice of their profession, as he would note in a work published in Montreal in 1933, Les carrières, pour guider le choix des jeunes gens après leurs études classiques. He advised them instead to take an interest in social movements and get involved in political life. His personal interest in public affairs did not lead him into active politics, however, although he was recognized as a Liberal.

In August 1937 the Canadian government set up one of the most important commissions in the history of Canada: the royal commission on dominion-provincial relations. Canada had undergone decisive changes since confederation. The country{apos}s population, which had been largely rural in 1867, was now mainly urban. Its economy, long dominated by agriculture, had become industrialized. This transformation entailed increased social needs and a changed role for governments. The economic crisis that had stricken the western world from 1929 put added pressure on the country to adapt to new social and economic realities. The commission had as its mandate, in part, to make {d-0}a re-examination of the economic and financial basis of Confederation and of the distribution of legislative powers in the light of the economic and social developments of the last seventy years.{d-1} By its proposals, the commission was to ensure the financial stability of the provincial governments and make it possible for comparable services and programs to be provided for all Canadians. The federal government started from the premise that there was a severe disequilibrium between the responsibilities assigned to the provinces by the constitution and the revenue allotted to them. Newton Wesley ROWELL, chief justice of Ontario, became the commission chairman.

The government wanted the commission to be representative of the whole country. Thus the chairman was assisted by commissioners from each of its regions: Robert Alexander MacKay*, professor of political science at Dalhousie University, for the Maritimes; Thibaudeau Rinfret* for the province of Quebec; John Wesley DAFOE, a highly regarded editor from Winnipeg, for the prairies; Henry Forbes Angus*, professor of political economy at the University of British Columbia, for British Columbia. Rinfret, a justice of the Supreme Court of Canada, served for only a short time on the commission before he resigned for health reasons. The Canadian government then appointed Sirois to take his place. This was no random choice. Sirois was a respected constitutional expert and professional whose career had progressed at a distance from active political life. Unlike many of his contemporaries, he was not immediately seen as slavishly following a line dictated by the world of politics. The fact remains that this choice was justified, primarily, by the determination to ensure that the commission{apos}s conclusions would be accepted by the people of the province of Quebec. In a letter to Commissioner Dafoe dated 23 Nov. 1937, Rowell, relying on the testimony of two persons who knew Sirois, hinted at such an intention: {d-0}a report signed by Dr. Sirois would carry more real weight among the people of Quebec than one signed by even so distinguished a judge as Mr. Justice Rinfret.{d-1} The initiative for this appointment probably came from the influential federal justice minister Ernest LAPOINTE. Sirois was personally unknown to the other members of the commission at the time of his appointment, but he made a good impression on them. Rowell, who had serious health problems, resigned in November 1938 and Sirois replaced him as chairman. The commission would be known henceforth by the names of its two successive chairmen, Rowell-Sirois.

The commission{apos}s work encompassed a vast field. Its research program was developed to address three areas of concern. To ensure that the commission was well informed, experts were assigned to write a series of studies dealing with the Canadian economic system, constitutional questions, and the public accounts of the dominion and provincial governments. Some studies were prepared for the commissioners alone; others were distributed widely. In addition, the commission travelled around the country from November 1937 to December 1938 to meet provincial politicians and hold public sessions at which civil servants and representatives of various organizations were heard. Eighty-five days of hearings were held in the provincial capitals and in Ottawa, with 397 witnesses making presentations. The transcript of their statements covered 10,702 pages. In addition, 427 documents were submitted to the commission. The federal initiative was not received unanimously with enthusiasm. Fearing the federal government{apos}s invasion of the areas under provincial jurisdiction, the provinces of Quebec, Ontario, and Alberta refused to participate actively in the work. Sirois reported to the federal political authorities several times on the commission{apos}s progress. The production of its report was delayed by the sheer scale of the task. Sirois justified the tardiness in a letter to Prime Minister William Lyon Mackenzie KING on 12 July 1939: {d-0}In a project of this magnitude and this complexity, many unpredictable and uncontrollable factors have developed, so that it became impossible to adhere to the first date [set], and which make it difficult at this point to set a rigid and specific time limit.{d-1}

Despite the pitfalls, the commission finally submitted its imposing report to the government in May 1940. It was published in three volumes. The first set out the evolution and current state of Canada{apos}s federal system in terms of finances and the economy. The second, which constituted the main body of the report, included the commission{apos}s recommendations to the government. The third contained various statistical data useful for understanding the report. Among the principal recommendations were the establishment of a system of unemployment insurance, the assumption of provincial debts by the federal government, and the payment of annual grants to provinces in need of such assistance. In short, the commission took a stand directly opposed to that of the courts, which had disallowed social welfare legislation - notably, the act introducing a program of unemployment insurance - passed under the government of Prime Minister Richard Bedford BENNETT. The Supreme Court of Canada and the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council in London had in fact declared unconstitutional a law adopted by parliament in 1935 that set up a commission on employment and social insurance and put into place a national employment service, unemployment insurance, assistance for the unemployed, and other forms of social insurance and security. The decision of these courts rested on the grounds that unemployment insurance was a provincial responsibility. The increase in financial responsibilities entailed by this reorganization led to a recommendation to centralize the federal fiscal system. Indeed, the royal commission proposed that the federal government be given the authority to impose taxes on individuals and corporations, as well as succession duties.

The particular contribution of each commissioner to the writing of the report is hard to establish. Far from having acted in the background, the three commissioners, particularly Dafoe, exercised a decisive influence on the work. Economist Douglas Alexander SKELTON, the commission{apos}s secretary, who also coordinated the research, contributed greatly to shaping the report. The work of Sirois as chairman was undoubtedly demanding, since his office files show that from 1938 his notarial activity fell off sharply. There is no question that Sirois saw himself as the defender of his province{apos}s values and rights. His intervention can be detected here and there in the report. For instance, a warning is issued to the drafter of any potential federal law on unemployment insurance against encroaching {d-0}on the rights defined in the Civil Code of Quebec.{d-1} Another example is the recommendation that the government of Canada pay part of the interest on the debts of Quebec municipalities, assuming responsibilities which, in other parts of the country, fell to the provinces. Furthermore, despite the delay experienced in the work, Sirois insisted that the report be published simultaneously in English and French. In his opinion, such a move would facilitate its reception. As he wrote on 28 June 1939 to Adjutor Savard, the French-language secretary of the commission, {d-0}To act otherwise would mean exposing the report, in the province of Quebec, to criticisms that would make its usefulness rather illusory.{d-1} The sensitivity of Sirois to Quebec{apos}s concerns did not, however, prevent him from standing by his colleagues.

The report was far from unanimously welcomed. While some greeted it favourably, others were sceptical of, if not hostile to, a centralizing of powers in the federal government. During the period spanned by the beginning of the commission{apos}s work and the submission of its report, the political situation in the country had changed considerably. With the onset of World War II, the federal government had been granted increased powers for the duration of hostilities. The centralization of power in its hands had become a reality. In this situation, following the submission of the report, the Canadian government managed in 1940 to win acceptance of an amendment to the Canadian constitution that gave parliament responsibility for unemployment insurance. In September of that year the federal administration named Sirois chairman of the new Unemployment Insurance Commission. This appointment was well received, even in circles usually opposed to such initiatives on the part of the Canadian government. His premature death foreclosed his assumption of this new responsibility.

A constitutional conference held in Ottawa in January 1941 failed to reach a consensus on the report. The opposing faction included Ontario, British Columbia, and Alberta. The other provinces were quite favourable, especially since the reorganization worked to their advantage. Quebec, with Premier Adélard Godbout* at its head, was conciliatory. The Quebec nationalists would later criticize Godbout for this attitude toward the report{apos}s conclusions. Despite the criticisms levelled at the report, Sirois emerged unscathed from the exercise. The Montreal daily Le Devoir even portrayed him on 20 Jan. 1941, a few days after his death, as a victim of the process: {d-0}His name was a guarantee of honesty. Politicians wanted to use him and have him take the responsibility for their manoeuvres.{d-1}

The royal commission{apos}s work would serve as the foundation for the federal government{apos}s development of social programs inspired by Keynesian theories - including a universal system of old-age pensions in 1951 - and the introduction of a system of equalization payments in 1957, which would enable Ottawa to allocate funds to certain provinces in order to reduce regional inequalities. In the wake of the Rowell-Sirois commission, the Quebec provincial government, then led by Maurice Le Noblet Duplessis*, would pass a law in 1953 setting up a royal commission of inquiry under judge Thomas Tremblay to carry out its own study of the constitutional problems and especially the economic aspects of Canadian federalism. This commission, which submitted a voluminous report in 1956, took the opposite view to the centralizing trend championed by the federal commission and developed a Quebec nationalist perspective on Canadian federalism.

When he graduated from university, Joseph Sirois was assured of a flourishing career in his father{apos}s firm. Not only had he, like his father, chosen the notarial profession, he had also become a professor of law. In the province he was considered the epitome of the perfect notary. His integrity and competence gave him a respectability that extended beyond the narrow circle of the juridical community. His renown increased when he agreed to take part in the royal commission on dominion-provincial relations. His personality and his honesty explain the affection shown to him. The eulogies at the time of his death were in keeping with the high esteem he had enjoyed throughout his career.

Joseph Sirois wrote, among other works, the following: {d-0}Société d{apos}économie sociale et politique de Québec,{d-1} La Libre Parole (Québec), 13 oct. 1906: 3; {d-0}Monsieur Joseph Edmond Roy,{d-1} La Rev. du notariat (Lévis, Qué.), 15 (1912-13): 289-90; and {d-0}Études classiques et admission à l{apos}étude du notariat,{d-1} La Rev. du notariat (Québec), 33 (1930-31): 145-47.

Bibliothèque et Arch. Nationales du Québec, Centre d{apos}arch. de Québec, CE301-S1, 4 oct. 1881. Instit. généal. Drouin, “Fonds Drouin numérisé,” Notre-Dame de Québec, 1er juin 1910: www.imagesdrouinpepin.com (consulted 9 Jan. 2008). Library and Arch. Canada (Ottawa), R1102-0-4; R4278-0-4; R8207-0-X; R10383-0-6. Palais de justice, Québec, Cour supérieure, Greffes, Joseph Sirois. Le Devoir (Montréal), 16 mai, 2 oct. 1940; 16, 20, 21 janv. 1941. La Patrie (Montréal), 20 janv. 1941. Le Soleil (Québec), 16 mai 1940; 17, 18 janv. 1941. L. R. Betcherman, Ernest Lapointe: Mackenzie King{apos}s great Quebec lieutenant (Toronto, 2002). Biographies canadiennes-françaises, Raphaël Ouimet, édit. (Montréal), 1931-32: 368. Canada, Royal commission on dominion-provincial relations, Report (3v., Ottawa, 1940). Barry Ferguson and Robert Wardhaugh, {d-0}{s-0}Impossible conditions of inequality{s-1-unknown}: John W. Dafoe, the Rowell-Sirois royal commission, and the interpretation of Canadian federalism,{d-1} Canadian Hist. Rev. (Toronto), 84 (2003): 551-83. G. M. Giroux, {d-0}Le notaire Joseph Sirois,{d-1} La Rev. du Barreau de la prov. de Québec (Montréal), 1 (1941): 51-54. International Labour Office, The Rowell-Sirois report: a Canadian reaffirmation of the democratic faith in social progress (Montreal, 1941). P. A. Linteau et al., Histoire du Québec contemporain (2v., Montréal, 1979-86), 2. Sylvio Normand, Le Droit comme discipline universitaire: une histoire de la faculté de droit de l{apos}université Laval (Québec, 2005). Qué., Commission des droits civils de la femme, Rapport (3v., Québec, 1930-31); Commission royale d{apos}enquête sur les problèmes constitutionnels, Rapport ... (4 tomes en 5v., Québec, 1956). La Rev. du notariat (Lévis), 43 (1940-41), numéro consacré à Joseph Sirois. J. E. Roy, Histoire du notariat au Canada depuis la fondation de la colonie jusqu{apos}à nos jours (4v., Lévis, 1899-1902). Univ. Laval, Annuaire, 1903-40. W. A. M., {d-0}Douglas Alexander Skelton (1906-1950),{d-1} Canadian Journal of Economics and Political Science (Toronto), 17 (1951): 89-91.

Originally from Poitou, France, Henri Bourassa{apos}s paternal and maternal ancestors came to New France at the end of the 17th century. According to some sources, it is thought that they were initially soldiers. Among their descendants were a number of commanding figures in Henri{apos}s life. In the Bourassa family, there was first of all his bilingual grandfather, François, a strong personality who enjoyed controversy; conservative both politically and socially, he had vigorously opposed the Patriotes in 1837. Then there were three of his sons. The eldest, also named François*, was a liberal and made his mark in the family by joining the Patriotes in 1838. Elected to the provincial parliament in 1854, he sat without interruption in it and in the House of Commons until 1896. After that, there was Augustin-Médard, an Oblate missionary among aboriginal peoples and later, from 1858 to 1888, curé of the seigneury of Petite-Nation (which had become Montebello). An unyielding ultramontane with a caustic wit, he gave young Henri the run of his library, and his reading would encompass the works of Louis Veuillot, Joseph de Maistre, and Jules-Paul Tardivel* (through the pages of his newspaper, La Vérité), authors who became the principal influences on his thinking. {d-0}It was there,{d-1} Henri affirmed on 13 Oct. 1943, in the first of the talks devoted to his political and journalistic {d-0}Mémoires,{d-1} {d-0}in my uncle{apos}s library and in reading L{apos}Univers, that I found my lifelong ideas about the role of the church in society [and] the relationship that ought to exist between the church and the secular authorities.{d-1} Lastly, there was Henri{apos}s father Napoléon, the artist of the family. He took little interest in politics in 1868, the year Henri was born, but this would not prevent him from offering advice to his son later on. From this {d-0}very good father{d-1} he inherited an {d-0}innate taste ... for artistic things, for music [and] painting.{d-1} On the Papineau side, there were lively and even more interesting personalities. First and foremost there was Henri{apos}s illustrious grandfather, Louis-Joseph*, who, in 1868, was enjoying his final years in part at the luxurious manor of Montebello. Bourassa would say in 1943 that he had acquired from him {d-0}the temperament of an orator and an unconquerable independence of character, a congenital inability to say what I do not think and not to say what I do think.{d-1}

Some six months after Henri was born, his mother died of severe {d-0}brain fever.{d-1} For Napoléon and his children, life was turned upside down. Aunt Ezilda Papineau took over, sometimes in Montreal in the winter, sometimes at Montebello in the summer, in the homes belonging to grandfather Papineau. Following Louis-Joseph{apos}s death in 1871, Napoléon would occasionally rent a house in Montebello, or rooms in Augustin-Médard{apos}s presbytery, for the summer. An energetic and disciplined woman, Ezilda was young Henri{apos}s first teacher. As an ultramontane, she brought him up to revere Pope Pius IX and Bishop Ignace Bourget* of Montreal. She had him read the Bible and then Sir Walter Scott and James Fenimore Cooper. In Montreal, Henri often went with his father to the homes of friends, where problems of the day were discussed. The boy, who by the age of nine had read Émile Keller{apos}s Histoire de France and when he was 12 would read the French translation of John Lingard{apos}s massive History of England, took great delight in listening to these debates.

Bourassa began his studies in Montreal in 1876-77 at the Institution des Sourdes-Muettes, after which he took private lessons from Jane Ducondu for two years. In 1879 he enrolled in the Catholic Commercial Academy in Montreal, where he spent two and a half years. The regime at the school was a little too structured for his liking, although Bourassa would acknowledge in 1943 having {d-0}acquired the basis of all my beliefs and religious practices{d-1} there. From 1882 to 1885 he was instructed by two private tutors, the more important of whom was Frédéric André, a cultivated Frenchman and excellent pedagogue, who taught him to be open to nature and new horizons, and to give himself wholeheartedly to his inclination to learn on his own. This burst of enthusiasm led him to enrol at the École Polytechnique in 1885. However, because of mental exhaustion, and, apparently, a religious crisis, he left the institution after a month. In September 1886 he went to Holy Cross College in Worcester, Mass., to perfect his English and finish his classical studies. He left after one trimester, once again for reasons of health. Henri{apos}s academic career came to an end at the age of 18, although he would be drawn to the study of law between 1897 and 1903 he would neither have a profession nor be a priest. A self-educated man by then, he had not been subjected to the often narrowing conformism of the classical colleges of his day. He had acquired a taste for reading a broad range of subjects, for critical thinking, and for closely argued debate. He now entered a period that would establish the main interests of his life.

Bourassa had politics in his blood - it was his second activity. His passion had been triggered by the Riel affair [see Louis Riel*] in 1885. Like French-speaking Quebecers, he had been outraged by the hanging of the Métis leader and he was stirred by the speeches of Honoré Mercier* and Wilfrid Laurier* in Montreal{apos}s Champ-de-Mars on 22 November. By the time Laurier became leader of the Liberal Party of Canada on 18 June 1887, Bourassa had developed great admiration for him. From then on he prepared for his move upward into federal politics. In January 1890, at the age of 21, he was elected mayor of Montebello, an office he held successfully until 19 Feb. 1894. He then took part in political campaigns during which he revealed his gifts as an orator, with a strong though somewhat piercing and high-pitched voice and impeccable diction. Word of him spread so rapidly that in the winter or at the beginning of the spring of 1895 the Liberals in the riding of Labelle nominated him as their candidate for the federal election expected in 1896. He would immediately make his views known: {d-0}The right to vote with or against my party, according to my convictions{d-1} and a point-blank refusal to be financed by the party. Laurier, who reportedly had known him since childhood, turned a blind eye to his rather free spirit. This period marks the real beginning of the connection between these two exceptional men who shared a mutual fascination for each other and who were fated to reach a parting of the ways.

To ground his political aspirations more securely and to stay in touch with public debates, Bourassa devoted himself in these years to a third activity: journalism. In 1892 he became {d-0}publisher-owner{d-1} of L{apos}Interprète (Montebello), a weekly created in 1886 that was dedicated to the interests of the riding of Labelle and Franco-Ontarians [see François-Eugène-Alfred Évanturel*]. On 11 April 1895, from the vestiges of this publication, he and a number of others launched Le Ralliement (Clarence Creek, Ont.), which he would continue to publish until 3 June 1897. Already, in the pages of these two newspapers, the depth of his thinking, his skill as a writer, and his mastery of the crushing retort, indeed, even his immoderate language, are evident. Here the man of principle emerges, obedient to the Roman Catholic Church and dedicated to defending the rights of French Canadians, which, he maintained, were {d-0}guaranteed by the treaties and constitutions.{d-1} One problem above all stirred his passion at that time: the Manitoba school question [see Thomas Greenway*; Sir Wilfrid Laurier]. He wrote article after article decrying the inaction of federal MPs since 1890, demonstrating the constitutional obligation to restore the rights of the Catholic minority in that province, and proclaiming the {d-0}wisdom{d-1} of the {d-0}noble{d-1} and {d-0}worthy{d-1} Laurier, though he recognized his leader{apos}s ruses. To the bishops who were restive, especially after the Conservatives introduced their remedial legislation on 11 Feb. 1896, Bourassa retorted that he was always ready to listen to them on spiritual concerns, but that on political and civil matters he remained free to decide for himself.

On the evening of 23 June 1896, after an intense campaign during which he discussed the Manitoba school question, among other issues, Bourassa shared in the victory of Laurier{apos}s Liberals. At the age of 27, he was elected in Labelle by 469 votes. It was a euphoric time for him. As his leader{apos}s protégé, gifted with exceptional powers of oratory, and bilingual, he had the talent, culture, and work ethic to succeed. Although he made no secret of his ultramontanism, he also openly declared himself a liberal, of the moderate cast of liberalism promoted by Laurier since 1877. A Castor Rouge: such would be the prime minister{apos}s caricature of him. He had self-confidence. Living off the income from farming and from his land, as well as the inheritance of the Papineaus, which was assessed at some $24,000 in 1894, he had made his home since then in Papineauville, where he resided in moderate comfort and would serve as mayor from 1896 to 1898. (He and some associates would open a sawmill there in 1898.) A man of medium height, with short black hair, a large moustache, and a Vandyke beard, he cut a haughty figure, with his refined elegance and somewhat solemn presence. His piercing, intimidating eyes revealed a determined individual, ready to assume whatever destiny lay ahead.

Bourassa could not hope for a portfolio in Laurier{apos}s cabinet, but the prime minister soon bestowed on him three marks of confidence. First, he sent him to Manitoba with Joseph-Israël Tarte*, the minister of public works, to negotiate an agreement on the delicate school question. Laurier counted on linking Bourassa in this way to the hoped-for accord. When the Laurier-Greenway agreement, which offered only crumbs to the minority, was made public on 19 Nov. 1896, Bourassa could not distance himself much from it. He accepted it as an honourable compromise, {d-0}a step on the path of justice.{d-1} In the face of the outcry from the bishops, he is believed to have written a request to Rome, on Laurier{apos}s behalf, to have a delegate come and study the question on the spot. This was the assignment taken up in March 1897 by Monsignor Rafael Merry del Val, who met the young MP and assigned him the task of being vigilant in the House of Commons. In December the encyclical Affari vos would ratify the Laurier-Greenway compromise, with some qualifications. Bourassa thought at the time that his opinions had been confirmed by Rome, but the ensuing events would drive him to despair. Laurier{apos}s second mark of confidence in his MP had to do with his profession as a journalist. Early in 1897, through the good offices of Tarte, who had just bought La Patrie, the prime minister had Bourassa made editor of this influential Montreal daily in hopes of moderating its radical liberalism. Flattered, the young parliamentarian decided to turn it into an ultramontane paper championing moderate liberal ideas in politics. It did not take long, however, for this hope of reconciling his ultramontanism, independence, and membership in the Liberal Party to founder. After only eight days, and one editorial, he resigned, a step precipitated by the revolt of the party{apos}s old guard and a disagreement with Tarte. This disappointment, especially on top of the preceding one, led him to take a crucial decision, as he would affirm in 1930: in all matters, {d-0}I resolved from that moment to obey the Pope.{d-1} The ultramontane won out permanently over the liberal. Then there was Laurier{apos}s third gesture. In 1898, with the obvious intent of exposing his young protégé to international issues, he made him one of the secretaries of the Anglo-American joint high commission to settle disputes between Canada and the United States, including that of the Alaska boundary. Bourassa discovered the game of quiet diplomacy, the world of high society, and his own interest in international questions and the men who guide their destinies. Even though the discussions collapsed in the face of American intransigence on 20 Feb. 1899, Bourassa was seized by a passion that would never leave him. Then, in April he made a speech in Ottawa, which he would repeat in Montreal in May, castigating the budding feminist movement and urging women to shun public office and devote themselves to home and family.

On 13 Oct. 1899, without consulting parliament, Sir Wilfrid Laurier agreed to send Canadian volunteers to South Africa to support Great Britain in its war against the Boers. Canadian participation squarely posed the question of Canada{apos}s status within the empire and its contribution to imperial wars. British imperialism, ever present as background, prompted two different visions of the country{apos}s future [see Sir Wilfrid Laurier]. What would Bourassa do? Moved by a religious conscience averse to concessions, he resigned from the commons on 18 October. In his view, sending troops set a precedent that made a mockery of the traditional political relations between Canada and the empire. Even worse, by going against the constitution, the government had relegated the country to the status of a simple colony dependent on England. Participation in imperial wars should take place only if Canada were represented on the councils of the empire, if parliament and the Canadian electorate were consulted, and if the country were threatened. Suddenly there was a crisis in Ottawa. Laurier tried to appeal to his good sense in order to dissuade him, but without success. Despite genuine and mutual affection, their relationship clouded over. Bourassa went around his riding to present his point of view and to secure his re-election by acclamation as an independent on 18 Jan. 1900. On 13 March he forcefully resumed his arguments in his first major speech in the House of Commons. Laurier made a brilliant reply and had enough effect on the members that they easily defeated Bourassa{apos}s motion, which incorporated his thinking since 18 October. Nevertheless, the fact remained that a political star had been born. Henceforth, Bourassa, who retained his seat in the general election of 7 Nov. 1900, had a mission in life: to create enlightened public opinion by communicating to Canadians a clearer understanding of Canada{apos}s relations with the empire and the nature of the relationship between the country{apos}s English Canadian Protestant majority and its French Canadian Catholic minority.

During these years, Bourassa became more knowledgeable about the British empire. In 1901 he went to London, where he met a number of important figures, both pro-imperialist and anti-imperialist, and then to Ireland and Scotland. On 20 October, shortly after his return, he delivered a speech in Montreal about Great Britain and Canada in which he scathingly attacked British imperialism. He nevertheless refused to opt for Canadian independence because of the lack of unity between its two peoples, French and English, or for annexation to the United States, proposing instead to {d-0}strengthen and broaden [Canadian] patriotism.{d-1} In another speech, given in Montreal on 27 April 1902 and reprinted in La Revue canadienne (Montréal), under the heading {d-0}Le patriotisme canadien-français: ce qu{apos}il est, ce qu{apos}il doit être,{d-1} he gave further shape to his budding nationalism. He began by arguing that French Canadians ought to love Canada, which he described as a {d-0}geographical absurdity{d-1} that must nonetheless be protected against any vague desire of its constituent parts to separate. He urged them to respect the double contract made with English Canadians in 1867: first, the national contract that declared French and English Canadians to be {d-0}partners with equal rights,{d-1} and secondly, the political contract that had as its goal the unification of the scattered colonies of British North America. This was the first time since 1895 that he spoke openly about this pact. Then he identified the distinctive characteristics of the French Canadian race that had to be safeguarded: the Catholic religion, central to everything, the French language, and the traditions, history, and institutions. He touched on some social aspects that underscored his conservatism: the importance of the elite, and the moral weight of the masses, who should not speak English, receive too much education, or earn a lot of money. Showing a slight progressive leaning, he called for the updating of curricula and the creation of secondary schools for teaching trades and business subjects. On 3 April 1904, when Tardivel{apos}s La Vérité and Le Nationaliste, the organ of the Ligue Nationaliste Canadienne, diverged in their views, he summed up his opinion: {d-0}The fatherland, for us, is Canada as a whole, that is to say a federation of distinct races and autonomous provinces. The nation ... is the Canadian nation, composed of French Canadians and English Canadians.{d-1} This was the heart of his nationalist thinking, which he would flesh out by degrees, especially in the social sphere. He was imbued with these ideas on the eve of the 1904 election, while Laurier, who was once again his leader, was extolling his policy of developing the country. But Bourassa, who was re-elected in November in a transformed Canada, would soon face another nightmare.

By the beginning of 1905, Bourassa had become a politician of considerable stature. In his own province he was even seen as a possible cabinet minister at Quebec, indeed as leader of the government. He was hoping instead to become deputy speaker of the House of Commons or postmaster in Montreal, where he was living at the time. Laurier needed him, however, for the main project of his third term: carving the provinces of Alberta and Saskatchewan out of the Northwest Territories. This undertaking involved a major problem: the system of education to be given the two provinces. The prime minister wanted to preserve the separate schools of the small Roman Catholic minority. Without the knowledge of his senior English-speaking ministers, he drew up legislation, along with Charles Fitzpatrick*, his minister of justice and attorney general, and consulted Bourassa. On 21 February he introduced a bill giving concrete expression to his wishes. Bourassa and La Vergne were overjoyed. For English-speaking Canada, it precipitated a crisis. The powerful Clifford Sifton* resigned and other ministers threatened to follow suit. Laurier procrastinated, while Bourassa urged him to hold firm. The prime minister opted for compromise, thereby in effect destroying the separate school system. In the House of Commons, Bourassa openly rebelled and moved or seconded one amendment after another, all of which were defeated. On 17 April he held a huge meeting in Montreal at which he stood out as the leader of a minority seeking justice and moral support. Laurier{apos}s image was damaged. Yet Bourassa{apos}s efforts achieved little for the victimized minority. He came out bruised, disappointed with his leader - from whom he again distanced himself - but especially with the Liberal caucus and the Liberal press. While he stayed on in Ottawa until October 1907, mainly to criticize immigration policy, it was the provincial scene that attracted him from now on.

This move to the provincial scene, {d-0}the biggest mistake of my public life,{d-1} Bourassa would declare in his {d-0}Mémoires,{d-1} was prompted mainly by an awareness of the economic and social problems that Quebec was then experiencing. The province was becoming industrialized and urbanized, while the Liberal government of Lomer Gouin*, rather like a business, was sometimes tainted with corruption. In the summer of 1907, with the strong backing of Le Nationaliste and the support of La Vergne, who was becoming his leading disciple, Bourassa denounced the mismanagement of colonization and natural resources. He held numerous meetings and displayed the slogan {d-0}Free land for free settlers.{d-1} He revealed some of the elements of his economic thinking: opposition to monopolies, as well as to socialism and communism; acceptance of free enterprise and even of trusts, whose practices must be well defined; government ownership and control of public utilities, in conjunction with private enterprise; moderate tariffs to help industry; and support for the caisses populaires of Alphonse Desjardins*. He extolled the rural life of farmers, which was centred on the parish church, and criticized the unwholesome atmosphere of the cities. He spoke to workers and wanted to set up a workers{s-1-unknown} assembly where they and their employers could discuss their respective rights and interests. He took aim especially at Adélard Turgeon*, the minister of lands and forests, and at Jean Prévost*, the minister of colonization, mines, and fisheries. Turgeon challenged him to stand for election in his riding of Bellechasse to settle their differences. Bourassa agreed to do so. On 4 November Turgeon defeated him decisively by 749 votes. The Conservatives immediately proposed a tacit alliance for the next provincial election, which Bourassa entered into in return for their support in launching a newspaper that would reflect his views. He tried his chances in Saint-Hyacinthe and in Montreal, Division no.2, where his opponent was Premier Gouin. On 8 June 1908 he won narrow victories in both ridings.

Bourassa{apos}s priority was still to launch a daily newspaper. Since the 1908 election he had been working on this project with Asselin and others, having received the approval of Archbishop Paul Bruchési* of Montreal. Ever a pragmatist, he insisted that his financial backers, who were mainly Conservatives, give him control of 50 per cent plus one of the company{apos}s shares, with full control of the paper and complete independence. Le Devoir, with its motto Fais ce que dois ({d-0}Do what you must{d-1}), published its first issue on 10 Jan. 1910. A daily focused on ideas and principles, with a militant voice, this moral force would be basically Catholic and nationalist. In his first editorial Bourassa indicated clearly how he would work. {d-0}We will take men and facts one by one and we will judge them in the light of our principles.{d-1} He surrounded himself with a solid and experienced team, including Asselin, Héroux, La Vergne, Georges Pelletier*, and Jules Fournier*. The signed articles they wrote appeared first in a four-page newspaper, which grew to six, eight, ten, and twelve pages, with a circulation of 12,529 in 1910 and 13,504 in 1930.

Through the various crises it experienced, Le Devoir would survive through the substantial efforts of its editor-in-chief, who had connections with businessmen such as Guillaume-Narcisse Ducharme*, president of the Life Insurance Company La Sauvegarde, of which Bourassa had been secretary-treasurer from 1903 to 1908. Until he left the newspaper of his own will on 2 Aug. 1932, Bourassa would retain control of it, although from 1918 he often turned the administration and management over to Héroux and Pelletier. From the outset, his salary was a little less than $1,820 a year, lower than that of journalists he hired. In general, his relations with his employees were friendly, but not familiar. Though poorly paid, the staff spared no effort for the cause of Le Devoir. By his rigorous thinking and his clear, direct, and concise style, Bourassa made it one of the most prestigious and influential newspapers in the province. Le Devoir was undoubtedly Bourassa{apos}s greatest achievement, and he became the most important intellectual in Quebec. He brought to it almost in their entirety the ideas he had enunciated since entering public life. Despite some progressive points, they had one characteristic in common: their conservatism.

From the very first days of Le Devoir, Bourassa threw himself into the campaign against the creation of a Canadian navy, set out in a bill that Laurier introduced in the House of Commons on 12 Jan. 1910. On 20 January he convened a huge meeting in Montreal to denounce this non-Canadian navy, which would cost much more than anticipated and would lead to participation in Great Britain{apos}s wars, to the abyss of militarism, and, even worse, to conscription. To Bourassa, it represented the resurgence of British imperialism. In his view, the Canadian people had to be consulted by plebiscite. In May he agreed to ally his Nationaliste movement with Frederick Debartzch Monk*, the leader of the federal Conservatives in Quebec, who, on this question, opposed both their own leader, Robert Laird Borden*, and Laurier. A coalition was born that would become the Parti Autonomiste or Conservative-Nationaliste alliance. The two leaders held many meetings in Quebec during the summer of 1910. On 10 September Bourassa{apos}s reputation was enhanced by his reply, in the church of Notre-Dame in Montreal, to Archbishop Francis Alphonsus Bourne of Westminster, who asserted that in Canada Roman Catholicism ought to be linked to the English language. {d-0}There are only a handful of us, it is true, but we count for what we are, and we have the right to live.{d-1} There was instant elation. To put a stop to Bourassa{apos}s progress, Laurier called a by-election in Drummond and Arthabaska, a traditionally Liberal riding. On 3 November the Liberals conceded defeat. The general feeling in the province of Quebec was that, through the candidates who ran for office, Bourassa had defeated Laurier.

In 1911 Bourassa carried on the struggle alongside Monk, even though their alliance might have been damaged by Laurier{apos}s scheme for commercial reciprocity with the United States, which Bourassa favoured but Monk opposed. At that time, Monk and his group accepted all the fundamental principles of the Nationaliste movement. When the prime minister, irritated by the resistance to reciprocity, called an election for 21 Sept. 1911, the Parti Autonomiste was ready. Its strategy was simple: send enough independent MPs to Ottawa to hold the balance of power. Bourassa formed a shocking electoral alliance with Borden, who helped him financially in his struggle in the province. Bourassa and La Vergne did not run, but they led the attacks against Laurier{apos}s naval policy and even against Borden{apos}s. When the votes were counted Laurier had been defeated, mainly on the issue of reciprocity. Bourassa and Monk got 17 candidates elected. The editor of Le Devoir was at the pinnacle of his glory.

With a 47-seat majority, Borden could govern the country as he wished. Bourassa recognized the limits of his electoral success. Though he refused a seat in the Borden cabinet, he agreed to the appointment of three of his Conservative allies from Quebec, including Monk. He himself would oversee these ministers and the other Conservative Nationaliste MPs. Two issues would be especially close to Bourassa{apos}s heart until 1913. The first was the extension of the boundaries of Manitoba by adding part of the District of Keewatin [see George Robson Coldwell*]. On 27 Feb. 1912 the Borden government decided to proceed without taking into account the Catholic minority in this district, which would thereby lose its separate schools. Bourassa protested and asked the Conservative Nationaliste ministers and MPs to act as nationalists. All but seven supported Borden. This was the first defeat of Bourassa that involved his allies of 1911. Next, when on 5 Dec. 1912 Borden decided to give $35 million to England for the construction of three Dreadnoughts, only eight Conservative Nationaliste MPs, including Monk, opposed the prime minister. Bourassa published more and more articles in Le Devoir, but since the majority of the Conservative Nationaliste MPs disassociated themselves from his 1911 speeches, he broke with them. The Nationaliste movement now became the object of Laurier{apos}s ridicule. With its Liberal majority, the Senate would block Borden{apos}s naval bill in May 1913, but, whatever he might say, Bourassa, who wrongly claimed credit for its defeat, had lost face. He paid the price for not having played strictly by the rules of the party system and for having left his colleagues on their own by refusing to run in 1911.

Bourassa did not, however, lose his personal credibility in these years. He made many speeches, travelling to Ontario, western Canada, and the United States, where he championed, among other things, the French language as guardian of the faith and of confederation. In 1913 he outlined the basis for Canada{apos}s foreign policy: the settlement of conflicts by international arbitration. As an intellectual, he exercised considerable moral authority. He was quick to defend the cause of the Franco-Ontarians, who in large part were deprived of their right to instruction in French by Regulation 17, which had been enacted in 1912 by their provincial government [see Sir James Pliny Whitney*]. On 21 May 1914 he set off on another fact-finding trip to Europe, where he met Winston Churchill and David Lloyd George, among others. On 1 August, as the threat of war was intensifying in Europe, he was in Strasbourg (France), a city then under German control. He managed to get back to Paris two days later, in the nick of time. On 4 August World War I broke out. By 21 August he was back home. An extremely troubled period was about to begin for him.

At the outbreak of the conflict, Canada, which was automatically at war by virtue of its status as a colony within the British empire, was bursting with enthusiasm. When the political parties agreed to help the mother country and send volunteer troops overseas, both francophones and anglophones supported these measures. Since Bourassa had condemned the decisions taken in 1899, 1910, and 1912, he had to react publicly. On 8 September, in Le Devoir, he accepted - {d-0}with reluctance,{d-1} he would later say - Canada{apos}s involvement as a nation, to the extent of its power and by means of action of its own. In other words, he repudiated his past and tried to go along with the prevailing mood. Immediately after his editorial appeared, however, he published a series of forceful articles in which he assigned blame to both belligerents and exposed England{apos}s hidden financial ambitions and egotism, the overzealous policies of the Canadian government, the economic risks of participation, and the excessive number of volunteers in uniform. Furthermore, he challenged the {d-0}Prussians of Ontario,{d-1} who were persecuting the French schools in that province. It was all too much for his adversaries, in both Quebec and English Canada, and for bishops such as Bruchési. This {d-0}traitor{d-1} to the nation, this troublemaker, was brewing up a storm. It was worse in 1915, when the war dragged on, requiring ever more soldiers, and when the crisis in Ontario persisted. His articles in Le Devoir, his speeches, his book Que devons-nous à l{apos}Angleterre?: la défense nationale, la révolution impérialiste, le tribut à l{apos}Empire, which was published in Montreal that year, all combined to stir debate. He became the public enemy of English Canadians, who urged that Le Devoir be shut down and its editor-in-chief arrested. Bourassa{apos}s rising influence among his own people made the political and religious authorities fear the worst.

Bourassa went even further in 1916, acknowledging that he had reverted to {d-0}undiluted nationalism.{d-1} As the champion of the minority in Ontario, he made their cause that of all French speakers in North America, even putting it ahead of the struggle in Europe. He manifestly had an impact on francophones, who, subject to other influences as well, had virtually stopped enlisting. When Borden proposed conscription in May 1917, the province of Quebec was on the brink of violence. Bourassa{apos}s prestige was at its peak; even the bishops declared their support for him. He could have taken over the province at a stroke, as Laurier and Borden feared. He was responsible enough, however, to call for resistance by constitutional means, and backed Laurier{apos}s solution: a referendum (which he also referred to as a plebiscite). He repudiated the Union government formed by Borden in the fall and joined forces with Laurier in an effort to defeat him in the election of 17 December. Together, they swept the polls in the angry province of Quebec, but they were crushed in English Canada. In the divided country, Bourassa tended to support isolation for French Canadians, but not separation from the rest of Canada. His correspondence shows, in fact, that he opposed the separatist motion presented in the Quebec Legislative Assembly by Liberal Joseph-Napoléon Francœur in December 1917 [see Sir Lomer Gouin]. Gagged by Borden{apos}s strengthened wartime censorship, Bourassa set aside his stinging articles in April 1918. He had earlier found time to denounce women{apos}s suffrage, a right accorded by Borden, as well as those responsible for the deadly riots at Quebec [see Georges Demeule*]. Above all, he discussed the coming peace, {d-0}the Christian peace,{d-1} at the centre of which he placed mediation by Pope Benedict XV. More than ever, perhaps, Bourassa viewed politics through the lens of religion. This is where he stood at the end of the war, as his career was about to take another turn.

Ever the ultramontane, Bourassa put the finishing touches on his social thinking of yesteryear. From now on, the ideologist and moralist would prevail over the politician and journalist, but not completely replace them. To ensure the success of his program, he laid out a hierarchy of typically ultramontane duties. In 1921, for instance, in his important pamphlet La presse catholique et nationale, he wrote {d-0}that religion takes precedence over patriotism, that preservation of the faith and morals is more important than holding on to the language, that maintenance of national traditions, especially family virtues, outweighs the demands of higher education or the production of literary works.{d-1} On the basis of these premises, he made numerous speeches smacking of passionate homily, in Quebec and then in Ontario, Acadia, and western Canada, and wrote many articles and pamphlets. The targets of his attacks included growing urbanization and industrialism, proposals for state-funded public assistance, and trusts and monopolies. He praised agriculture, colonization, and the Catholic trade unions. He made his activities part of the promotion of the Catholic press, with the further objective of filling the empty coffers of Le Devoir.

In the same spirit, Bourassa rejected the plan that a group of intellectuals, gathered around Abbé Lionel Groulx*, the editor of the Montreal magazine L{apos}Action française, proposed to their compatriots in 1922 as an ideal to attain: the creation of Laurentie, a country separate from Canada. Bourassa had not been consulted by Groulx, but he had referred to this idea in December 1921 and on 23 Nov. 1923 he replied in a speech that turned into another famous pamphlet, entitled Patriotisme, nationalisme, impérialisme ... and published in Montreal that year. He relied in particular on Pius XI{apos}s Ubi arcano Dei, an encyclical written in 1922 that condemned {d-0}extreme nationalism.{d-1} Subtly connecting the separatist dream with excessive nationalism, which he again termed a threat, he proclaimed his attachment to Christian patriotism and nationalism, the only {d-0}true patriotism{d-1} and {d-0}true nationalism.{d-1} Then he analysed the separatist option. {d-0}Is this dream attainable? I do not think so. Is it desirable? I do not believe so, either from the French point of view or, even less, from the Catholic point of view, which in my opinion takes precedence over the interest of French.{d-1} He concluded: {d-0}The preservation of the faith ... is more important than the preservation of any language, than the victory of any human cause.{d-1} The master, still enjoying an aura of prestige, had dealt a hard blow to the separatist dream.

Bourassa{apos}s project of moral regeneration had its crowning moment on 18 Nov. 1926, when he had a one-hour private audience with Pius XI. The pope{apos}s remarks agreed in substance with the thesis of Patriotisme, nationalisme, impérialisme. In his {d-0}Mémoires,{d-1} Bourassa would describe his reaction: {d-0}I left there strengthened, comforted, enlightened for the rest of my days.{d-1} He believed from then on that he had been entrusted by Pius XI with the mission of making his ideas better known and accepted in Canada.

On his return from Europe, Bourassa plunged wholeheartedly into political debates. In 1925 he ran as an independent in the federal riding of Labelle, where he was elected on 29 October by 2,079 votes, and then again in the general election of 14 Sept. 1926 by 6,322. In parliament he aroused curiosity because of his reputation. He carried out his parliamentary duties, usually alongside the Liberals, who had been returned to power under William Lyon Mackenzie King*. Rather isolated among a cohort of parliamentarians whom he did not know, he drew closer to former opponents such as Rodolphe Lemieux*, and learned to appreciate other members such as the socialist James Shaver Woodsworth*. Increasingly taking on the role of conscience of the house, he scorned patronage to concentrate on the big political issues, both national and international. Until 1930 he discussed, among other concerns, the plans for old-age pensions, to which he was opposed, government budgets, the cause of the French language and bilingualism in the country, western Canada{apos}s natural resources, and the law on divorce. He also touched on such subjects as world peace and Canada{apos}s relationship with the British empire. He welcomed, with some reservations, the results of the 1926 Imperial Conference, which recognized Great Britain and the dominions as autonomous communities, equal in law, in no way subordinate one to another, and freely associated as members of the British Commonwealth of Nations. For him, it was simply a question of recognizing an accomplished fact. He attacked, among other things, the principle of solidarity in imperial obligations, which, if maintained, would be an obstacle to attainment of national independence. In the general election of 28 July 1930 he was returned by acclamation in Labelle, while the Conservative Richard Bedford Bennett* replaced King as prime minister.

During these years, Bourassa was active outside the house as well. He wrote articles on current topics, both national and international, and made several stirring speeches, in Montreal in particular, to mark the 60th anniversary of confederation, and, soon after, in the course of a patriotic teaching tour of western Canada. His most important stand had to do with the agitation that involved the newspaper La Sentinelle (Woonsocket, R.I.). Some Franco-Americans, along with their paper, were at odds with the Irish bishop of Providence, William Hickey, who wanted to raise funds among the Catholics of his diocese to build English-language Catholic secondary schools. This affair, which was followed closely by the nationalist elite, the clergy, and Quebec francophones, went all the way to the pope. In 1928 Pius XI ruled in favour of Bishop Hickey, condemned La Sentinelle, and excommunicated the rebels. They did not lay down their arms, however, and even spoke of schism in 1929. It was at this point that Bourassa, a staunch defender of minorities who had long been interested in the French Canadians who had emigrated to the United States, intervened. Beginning on 15 Jan. 1929 he published five articles that were devastating for the cause of La Sentinelle. He called for submission, explaining that the essential authority of the church had to be preserved and the subordination of Catholicism to nationalism prevented. The effect was far-reaching. The crisis was immediately resolved in the United States, but in Quebec there was an outpouring of reaction. Among the most disappointed were the nationalists of the Ligue d{apos}Action Canadienne-Française, who no longer recognized their mentor. With Groulx at the head, they refused to accept this separation of nationalism and Catholicism so dear to Bourassa. The master was in the process of destroying his past. Bourassa replied to them in a speech on 3 Feb. 1930: {d-0}as to the root of the national and religious problem, I hold the same position that I did 10, 20, or 30 years ago.{d-1} He was right. {d-0}When conscience calls,{d-1} he added, {d-0}[the goad of public opinion] must speak out.{d-1} Pure Bourassa.

During the years from 1930 to 1935, Bourassa kept himself, for the most part, above the fray in the House of Commons. He approached men and things from the lofty height of his principles, often glorifying the pope and commenting on the encyclicals. On 30 June 1931, for example, he welcomed the Statute of Westminster, which granted partial independence to Canada, but he regretted that the country had not been completely separated from Great Britain. In 1934 he attacked anti-Semitism and racism, which he had already repudiated, in particular by his support in 1930 for the principle of establishing a system of Jewish schools in Montreal. In 1934 he also spoke about the depression; his economic-religious reflections, containing little that was original, repeated many of his dogmas from the past. In 1935 he had kind words for Bennett{apos}s so-called New Deal and spoke in favour of the cause of preserving world peace.

Bourassa carried on these battles in Le Devoir, and dealt with other topics. In 1931 he analysed the provincial law on workplace accidents, describing it as {d-0}A well-intentioned ... monster{d-1} of state control in Quebec, while nevertheless supporting its basic features. He also touched on Germany{apos}s positive role in blocking the expansion of Bolshevism. In Le Devoir and elsewhere, however, Bourassa{apos}s remarks occasionally offended the paper{apos}s readers. Besides nationalists of every stripe, other groups, such as members of the clergy, were also affected. On 4 March 1932, in an address entitled {d-0}Honnêtes ou canailles?,{d-1} printed in Le Devoir three days later, Bourassa accused the latter of enriching themselves unduly from the church{apos}s property. Many of Le Devoir{apos}s natural supporters were offended and cancelled their subscriptions. With the depression increasing the newspaper{apos}s financial difficulties, it was on the verge of bankruptcy. The management of the daily and its board of directors were under great pressure. Aware of all these realities, Bourassa let slip the word {d-0}resignation{d-1} in the spring of 1932. In May the board took him at his word, and his resignation came into effect on 2 August. The information, given in a single news item, caused a sensation. Many people wondered what was behind the affair, while some mistakenly referred to a dismissal. Morose and extremely upset, Bourassa hid away in the commons and considered retiring from public life. One page of his life, probably the most important of all, had just been turned. On 7 Dec. 1933, Abbé Groulx, in a letter to Armand La Vergne, gave a general idea of the anger then being directed at Bourassa by French Canadian nationalists: {d-0}How sad some lives [are] at the end!... Could it be purely a matter of intellectual evolution this time? Might there not also be an element of cerebral evolution?... To sum up: ... no one here gives a thought to him any more. And that is really the tragic side of this man{apos}s destiny, that while still alive, he is treated as dead.{d-1}

But Bourassa would still make his voice heard in Montreal and again arouse the fury of Groulx{apos}s nationalists. In April and May of 1935 he gave three speeches on nationalism. At the outset he asked the question, {d-0}Is nationalism a sin?{d-1} While he began by legitimizing Canadian nationalism, the kind that reacted against imperialism and colonialism and that protected the rights of minorities, he confessed to having committed five sins, the greatest of which was certainly the one of using words that could have made people think that the French language took precedence over the Catholic faith. Then he declared his {d-0}disagreement with the neo-nationalism introduced by L{apos}Action Française of Montreal, continued and intensified by Jeune-Canada,{d-1} and he ridiculed the separatists. In his opinion, they showed a {d-0}deviation from the sense of nationality and the sense of religion{d-1} and he described them as {d-0}fomenters of race hatred.{d-1} He went on to deplore religious nationalism, which was {d-0}the antithesis of Catholicism,{d-1} and was too much in evidence in Canada. He denounced the anti-Semitism that was rife in Quebec and elsewhere. These speeches, though demonstrating the continuity in Bourassa{apos}s thinking, aroused Groulx{apos}s anger, and he replied immediately in the May issue of L{apos}Action nationale (Montréal). It was an all-out, savage attack on the former mentor {d-0}who has destroyed the ideal of a generation{d-1} and who {d-0}is no longer a master.{d-1} These blunt and unfair comments show the unbridgeable gulf between the two men. Bourassa took note of them and said nothing. In the fall he agreed to seek a new term as an MP. Maurice Lalonde, a young Liberal lawyer, decided to run against him and on the evening of 14 Oct. 1935 Lalonde received a majority of 1,869. {d-0}Apart from the very slight injury to my self-esteem,{d-1} Bourassa wrote to his daughter Anne, {d-0}I feel relieved of a great burden and even delighted.{d-1}

At the age of 67, Bourassa began his long retirement. Until 1938, although he appeared less often on the public scene, he spoke occasionally on Canadian affairs and reiterated many of his ideas, arousing anger among the French Canadian nationalists. In fact, he was now looking mainly towards Europe, sunk in anxiety about another world war. He even travelled there in 1936 and again in 1938. Above all, Bourassa feared communist Russia because it threatened God, the family, and property. He had no more love for Germany and Nazism, which extolled {d-0}the worship of race{d-1} and hatred of the Jews, but he admitted that Germany, an unstable nation humiliated by the Treaty of Versailles, {d-0}is the only force capable of putting order in the Slavic chaos.{d-1} He hoped for a Franco-German entente that would involve the Italy of Benito Mussolini, whom he had met for a second time in 1936. Finally, he called on the powers to put their trust in the wisdom of the pope.

Then there was complete silence for nearly three years. Increasingly religious, Bourassa lived a life of serene solitude. A keen conversationalist in private life, he occasionally received visitors with whom he discussed Canadian and European affairs. His health was still good. He took long walks, saying his rosary as he went; for relaxation he played chess or cards, his plaster pipe in his mouth. And he read voraciously until, much to his regret, problems with his eyes forced him to stop. In May 1941 he agreed to give a speech in Montreal to support a religious endeavour. Now nearly 73 years old, he was back in the public eye. This marked the beginning of his official pronouncements about the war, which was dragging on far too long. Until 1944, Bourassa would return to the object and even the arguments of his nationalist battles of bygone days. While he denounced the Axis, dominated by Nazi Germany, he showed sympathy for Marshal Philippe Pétain{apos}s France and Christian Italy. He frankly expressed the desire for Canada{apos}s withdrawal from the war, which ought to end in a negotiated settlement. Above all, he called for the establishment of a Christian social order. It was in this context that a rapprochement with the French Canadian nationalists was reached at the end of 1941. The reunion, which was initiated by the nationalists, was marked by mutual respect. They were opposed, as he was, to imperialism and conscription, which they increasingly feared would be introduced by Prime Minister King. In February 1942 they founded the Ligue pour la Défense du Canada, and then on 8 September a political party, the Bloc Populaire Canadien, rekindling the flame of Canadian nationalism of their erstwhile leader. Although not a member of either of these two groups, Bourassa worked with them and supported their objectives. Opposed, among other things, to the plebiscite of 27 April 1942, which was designed to release the King government from its promise not to impose conscription, he took part in many of their political and electoral meetings until 1944.

During the months from 13 Oct. 1943 to 15 March 1944, on the advice of a number of nationalists that included Jean Drapeau* and André Laurendeau*, Bourassa recounted his {d-0}Mémoires{d-1} at Plateau Hall in Montreal. In the course of his ten talks, one of which was recorded and all of which drew a crowd of faithful listeners, Bourassa reviewed his life, displaying his prodigious memory and youthful expressiveness. He sought to show the unity of his thought and action, which in spite of some complicated detours drew their inspiration from the twin family backgrounds of Papineaus and Bourassas. Despite lapses in recall, omissions, self-congratulatory touches, and a mingling of personal memories and digressions, which weakened his argument, the {d-0}Mémoires{d-1} are still a remarkable source of information.

In the fall of 1944, Bourassa, who was now 76, had a heart attack which made his retirement complete. Although he recovered, he was still frail and was frequently unwell. He had, however, meanwhile regained enough of his sight to be able to read. He prepared for death with a daily ritual worthy of a monk: reading the daily mass, the proper in the breviary, the lives of the saints, and L{apos}imitation de Jésus-Christ, reciting his rosary, making the Stations of the Cross, engaging in family prayers. To this he added the small pleasures derived from his pipe, his cigars, games with his family, visits from friends, and perusal of Le Devoir. On the day before his 84th birthday, Bourassa got up feeling better than usual. Suddenly, he was struck by a sharp pain in his heart. At his request, his son François, a Jesuit, gave him absolution. Surrounded by his family and conscious to the end, Bourassa breathed his last on 31 Aug. 1952.

From that day, the man and his work belonged to history. Neither would be easy to evaluate. Journalist André Laurendeau even acknowledged in 1954: {d-0}A man like Bourassa cannot be captured by a formula: he always in one way or another transcends [it].{d-1} What then is Henri Bourassa{apos}s legacy to posterity? No doubt the memory, in the minds of Canadians, of a prestigious name constantly recalled by the various streets, boulevards, electoral constituencies, regional school boards, schools, buildings, and a subway station named in his honour. The books, theses, and articles devoted to him, both laudatory and critical, have become accounts of his era. Papineau{apos}s grandson remains a presence symbolizing a notable contribution to the building of the country. Bourassa was not a great politician, however. Since both his character and his principles made him incapable of coming to terms with power in all its forms, he never learned to move easily within its restrictive framework, and suffered the consequences. His true path was found in militant Catholic journalism. He was first and foremost a committed intellectual, who was endowed with incomparable charisma and culture. Between 1899 and 1920 especially, he led some of his most enlightened compatriots to turn their minds to public affairs and to become involved, through thought and action, in the debates about the future of their society and their nation. The nationalist revival that Quebec experienced at the beginning of the 20th century was of his making.

Bourassa was also a trailblazer. In 1954 the magazine L{apos}Action nationale wrote: {d-0}today, the greatest part of the political program he supported, almost in the face of complete opposition, has become that of most Canadians and serves to ensure the prestige of our major parties.{d-1} This was the case with his staunch defence of Canadian autonomy and independence, as well as respect for minorities and the bicultural character of the country. In a sense, he was the first to work at establishing, in a considered and organized way, a political philosophy capable of clarifying Canadian problems at the beginning of the 20th century. He gave his compatriots a more precise understanding of Canada{apos}s relations with the empire and the relationships between the majority and the minority. Moreover, he was the instigator, at least in Quebec, of sustained reflection on peace and international issues. It is not surprising that he is known as the father of independent political thought in French Canada. His social and economic views, which were influenced by his ultramontanism and his own era, were not, however, either progressive or original, despite some reformist elements. They exude a sometimes anachronistic and rather narrow view of things and of people, especially of women, whose emancipation he helped delay. As a member of a petty-bourgeois elite, he had been one of its most eminent spokesmen: the vigour and logic of his pronouncements surpassed those of his contemporaries.

A man of duty, sometimes perceived as the conscience of his people, Henri Bourassa was above all a great Catholic obedient to the directives of the pope. He formed an attachment to these instructions early in his career, and they guided his thoughts and actions for the rest of his life. Many supporters, even among his most faithful nationalist disciples, were alienated by his attitude, which was not really understood. In his Mémoires, Abbé Groulx recalled the damage Bourassa had done to the cause of French Canadian nationalism. Once this mood had been set, the Quebec nationalist generation of the 1960s also turned away from Bourassa{apos}s ideas, which they considered too frankly Canadian. At the same time, however, other Quebecers, such as Pierre Elliott Trudeau*, promoted some essential aspects of his thought. The majority of Bourassa{apos}s English Canadian Protestant compatriots were displeased with his thinking as a whole. They mistakenly accused him of destroying Canadian unity, creating racial division, and being a troublemaker. There was certainly nothing about the vigorous expression of his intransigent Catholicism that could attract them to the kind of nationalism he was defending. But was Bourassa entirely in the wrong? English Canadians of his day, and many of their historians since then, have not listened to him carefully enough and have not tried to grasp fully the sense of his struggles. Had they done so, they would have discovered in Bourassa what a number of better-informed English Canadian historians now realize: that he was a proud supporter of the spirit and letter of the Canadian constitution, a Canadian nationalist devoted to Canada, his only country. In sum, here was a courageous thinker who, in many respects, can still inspire Canadians.

The essential sources for this biography are the correspondence and the writings of Henri Bourassa. The principal Bourassa archives are held at Library and Arch. Canada (Ottawa), R8069-0-5 (Henri Bourassa fonds) and at the Centre de Recherche Lionel-Groulx (Outremont, Qué.), P65 (fonds Famille Bourassa). Mme Anne Bourassa{apos}s patience and attention to detail in meticulously preserving her father{apos}s memory must be acknowledged. Many discussions were held with her about her father. Other archival collections, in particular those of politicians and journalists, shed light on many aspects of Bourassa{apos}s career. They include, at Library and Arch. Canada, those of Sir Wilfrid Laurier (R10811-0-X), the Famille Armand Lavergne (R6172-0-1), and Frederick Debartzch Monk (MG 27, II, D10A). Also useful is the collection of Olivar Asselin{apos}s papers at the Ville de Montréal, Section des archives (BM55). The author holds several unpublished pieces of correspondence in which Henri Bourassa is a central figure. Bourassa{apos}s baptismal certificate can be found at Bibliothèque et Arch. nationales du Québec, Centre d{apos}archives de Montréal, CE601-S51, 2 sept. 1868.

The titles of Henri Bourassa{apos}s numerous books and pamphlets can be found in André Bergevin et al., Henri Bourassa: biographie, index des écrits, index de la correspondance publique, 1895-1924 (Montréal, 1966). They have all been consulted and some have been quoted in the biography. These publications are indispensable for identifying the evolution of this committed intellectual{apos}s thinking. The same is true for Bourassa{apos}s work as a journalist, which is to be found mainly in the newspapers he edited or founded: L{apos}Interprète, Le Ralliement and Le Devoir, which were all examined. His articles in Le Devoir, from 1910 to 1932, have been copied on microfilm. Other newspapers of the day, particularly those to which Bourassa{apos}s friends and political opponents in Quebec and elsewhere in Canada contributed, afforded a better understanding of the reactions Bourassa aroused. By way of example, the Quebec City newspapers La Vérité and Le Soleil, as well as Le Canada in Montreal, were useful. Two sources assisted in evaluating the role played by Bourassa as an MP and as an MLA: Can., House of Commons, Debates, 1896-1907, 1926-35 and Qué., Assemblée législative, Débats, 1909-12. To all these works must be added the memoirs of prominent figures of the time, the most relevant being those of Bourassa himself, held at the Centre de recherche Lionel-Groulx, P65/B9, 2-11, Armand La Vergne, published as Trente ans de vie nationale (Montréal, 1934), and Canon Lionel Groulx, entitled Mes mémoires (4v., Montréal, 1970-74).

Specialized studies, doctoral dissertations, MA theses, and scholarly articles have made it possible to examine in greater depth some aspects of the nationalist leader{apos}s career and thought. Although many of these works are becoming dated, their contribution should be recognized. Among them, the biography by historian Robert Rumilly, Henri Bourassa: la vie publique d{apos}un grand Canadien (Montréal, 1953), deserves mention. A sweeping chronicle developed without footnotes, it covers Bourassa{apos}s entire life and includes a great deal of information of various kinds. Historian Joseph Levitt has written several key works, including Henri Bourassa on imperialism and biculturalism, 1900-1918 (Toronto, 1970), Henri Bourassa and the golden calf: the social program of the nationalists of Quebec, 1900-1914 (2nd ed., Ottawa, 1972), and Henri Bourassa: Catholic critic (Ottawa, 1976). So too has historian René Durocher, who produced two solid articles: {d-0}Henri Bourassa, les évêques et la guerre de 1914-1918,{d-1} Canadian Hist. Assoc., Hist. Papers (Ottawa), 1971: 248-75, and {d-0}Un journaliste catholique au XXe siècle: Henri Bourassa,{d-1} in Pierre Hurtubise et al., Le laïc dans l{apos}Église canadienne-française de 1830 à nos jours (Montréal, 1972): 185-213.

Mention should also be made of the insightful article by journalist André Laurendeau, {d-0}Le nationalisme de Bourassa,{d-1} L{apos}Action nationale (Montréal), 43 (1954): 9-56, and the works of historian Susan Mann: Action française: French Canadian nationalism in the twenties (Toronto, 1975); {d-0}Variations on a nationalist theme: Henri Bourassa and Abbé Groulx in the 1920{foot}s,{d-1} Canadian Hist. Assoc., Hist. Papers, 1970: 109-19; and {d-0}Henri Bourassa et la question des femmes,{d-1} in Marie Lavigne and Yolande Pinard, Les femmes dans la société québécoise: aspects historiques (Montréal, 1977): 109-24. To these must be added the volume Hommage à Henri Bourassa (Montréal, [1952?]), reprinted from a souvenir issue published in Le Devoir, 25 nov. 1952, which contains many tributes by friends, and the essay by historian Ramsay Cook, Canada and the French-Canadian question (Toronto, 1966). Comprehensive works on Canadian history have also proved valuable sources. The best of these with regard to Bourassa and his time remains that of historians R. C. Brown and Ramsay Cook, Canada, 1896-1921: a nation transformed (Toronto, 1974). On Le Devoir, the following can be consulted: Pierre Dandurand, {d-0}Analyse de l{apos}idéologie d{apos}un journal nationaliste canadien-français, Le Devoir , 1911-1956{d-1} (mémoire de MA, Univ. de Montréal, 1961); {d-0}Le Devoir{d-1}: un journal indépendant (1910-1995), edited by Robert Comeau and Luc Desrochers (Sainte-Foy [Qué.], 1996); {d-0}Le Devoir{d-1}: reflet du Québec au 20e siècle, edited by Robert Lahaise (LaSalle [Montréal], 1994); P. P. Gingras, {d-0}Le Devoir{d-1} (Montréal, 1985); and Pierre Anctil, {d-0}Le Devoir{d-1}, les Juifs et l{apos}Immigration: de Bourassa à Laurendeau (Québec, 1988). A number of obituary articles on Bourassa appeared in Le Devoir of 2 Sept. 1952.

Clarence Decatur Howe{apos}s ancestors were among the original Puritan settlers of Massachusetts in the 1630s. His connections on his father{apos}s side included Julia Ward Howe, author of {d-0}The battle hymn of the Republic,{d-1} and Joseph Howe*, the tribune of Nova Scotia; one of his mother{apos}s relatives was Stephen Decatur, the American naval hero, after whom he was named. The Howe family, though locally prominent, was far from rich. Howe attended public schools in Waltham, and then the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in Boston, graduating with an engineering degree near the top of his class in 1907. He had a reputation among his classmates for being bright, energetic, efficient - and lucky. He needed the luck, because there was a sharp recession in 1907-8 and work was scarce. Fortunately, one of his professors, George Fillmore Swain, received a letter from Dalhousie University in Halifax asking him to recommend someone to teach civil engineering. Howe accepted the possibility of advancement and adventure.

He arrived in Canada in 1908, just in time to supervise the engineering summer camp. At 22 he was barely older than his senior students, but as early as that August, one recalled, {d-0}we had acquired a great respect for him.{d-1} What impressed them was his refusal to pretend to knowledge he did not have, and his ability to reason through a difficulty. {d-0}The engineer,{d-1} Howe later said, {d-0}deals with concrete problems, where facts are facts and all else is error.... There is no devious route to the correct answer.{d-1} Engineering was {d-0}hard facts and hard practice.{d-1}

Howe enjoyed the life of a professor, and he liked Halifax. He would have been inclined to stay an academic in Nova Scotia except for the provincial government{apos}s decision to centralize senior engineering instruction at the new Nova Scotia Technical College [see Alexander Howard MacKay*]. Losing his senior students removed much of the enjoyment he found in teaching, and it made him receptive to an unexpected offer.

A colleague at Dalhousie, Robert Magill*, had been made chairman of the Board of Grain Commissioners, recently created by Prime Minister Robert Laird Borden*{apos}s government and headquartered in Fort William (Thunder Bay), Ont. An agency was needed to manage the gigantic grain trade - in 1913 Canada{apos}s wheat exports were second only to those of the United States, and not second by much. Yet the infrastructure to handle wheat was vastly inferior to the ability of the prairie settlers to produce it. Magill soon decided that his board should intervene directly in the trade, and therefore it needed its own grain elevators. This conclusion called for an engineer, and who better than his friend at Dalhousie? In 1913 Howe took three momentous decisions: he resigned from the university, he entered the federal civil service, and he became a British subject. His future was not in academia, but it was in Canada, and in Canada he would stay.

He arrived in Fort William at the right moment to take advantage of a revolution in the design and construction of grain terminals, which were being arrayed in banks of cylindrical towers in ports from Vancouver to Montreal. He travelled across the west, learning about the country and acquiring new points of reference in his exploration of Canada - the prairies, and the railways and ports that serviced the grain trade. While siting his elevators, Howe got to know the farmers{s-1-unknown} organizations and the heads of the various grain companies; equally important, they got to know him, and liked what they saw. Plain and direct in explaining his business, he never talked down to the grain suppliers, adopting the same approach he had used with his students. Building elevators was of vital interest to businessmen, politicians, and the farmer-voters of the three prairie provinces. Understanding grain was a key, perhaps the key, to understanding how the west functioned, not merely economically, but politically.

Howe{apos}s elevators were built just in time. World War I drove up demand for wheat among the Allies and Canada became a major supplier, with a system of storage sites and transportation links that efficiently moved grain to eastern ports for shipment to Europe. The price rose with demand, and Howe saw another opportunity. Resigning from the Board of Grain Commissioners in 1916, he formed C. D. Howe and Company, in partnership with Ralph Borthwick Chandler, to build elevators.

The other great event in Howe{apos}s life that year was marriage to Alice Worcester, whom he had known when he worked during summers for her father, Joseph, in Waltham. The two set up house not in Fort William, but in its smaller neighbour, Port Arthur (Thunder Bay), along the swampy shore of Thunder Bay on Lake Superior. It was a logical economic decision. The price of property in Fort William, which monopolized the grain terminal business at the head of the Great Lakes, was too high, in Howe{apos}s opinion. Port Arthur had land for the huge terminals he wanted to build, and in the fall his company started work there on a project for the Saskatchewan Grain Growers{s-1-unknown} Association.

For Alice it was not just another country, it was another world, remote and isolated, but very busy. Resourceful and decisive, she made the best of it, as she had to: his profession often took her husband away for weeks, sometimes months. There is a family story of a day, probably in the late 1920s, when Howe returned home from a trip and was gravely escorted into the living room by his wife, who announced, {d-0}Children, I{apos}d like you to meet your father. You may not remember him.{d-1} The Howes had a remarkably stable and generally equable relationship that lasted over 40 years, but roles and responsibilities were firmly divided: Alice raised the children and ran the household, while Clarence, earning a living, was absent in more ways than one.

The end of the war meant an expansion of Howe{apos}s business. The Canadian grain trade remained its core and the Lakehead its centre, but during the 1920s the Howe Company built elevators in locations as far away as Great Britain and Argentina. The architect Le Corbusier praised the shape of the grain elevator as the quintessential modern building, and he may (or may not) have had Howe{apos}s constructions in mind. By 1929 his firm was known for creating better elevators faster and cheaper than its rivals could do. It was probably the foremost designer of grain elevators in the world, and its prospects seemed unlimited.

By 1934 Howe{apos}s firm was down on its luck. Professionally, the staff consisted of Howe and one junior engineer, John Murray Fleming, and the business dealt mostly with insurance appraisals. Despite some unwise investments in, for example, Peruvian bonds, he was personally financially secure, but his company{apos}s prospects were distinctly limited. He was disturbed by the failure of governments to chart a way through the depression; from this concern it was only a step to considering what he as an individual could do about it. His work had always been linked to politics and political figures. Grain and grain marketing were highly charged topics in the west, and much prairie politics turned on grain, or the railways to transport it, or the money to capitalize it. He was friendly with members of both the Conservative and the Liberal parties, but although he had served on the Port Arthur school board from 1921 to 1925, he did not, before 1934, admit to a partisan identification.

The Liberals acted first. Under William Lyon Mackenzie King*, they were in federal opposition, with consequently more freedom than Prime Minister Richard Bedford Bennett*{apos}s Conservatives to choose candidates who were potential cabinet ministers. (Robert James Manion*, in neighbouring Fort William, was minister of railways and canals.) Norman Platt Lambert, the Liberal Party{apos}s national organizer, was a veteran of the grain business and an old acquaintance of Howe{apos}s. While travelling through Port Arthur in April 1933, he called on the Howes one night after dinner, and this visit eventually led to a meeting with King in Ottawa on 20 Jan. 1934. Howe made it plain that if he were to enter politics as a Liberal and his party were victorious, he would not want to waste his time on the back benches. As Lambert told his diary, {d-0}Howe{apos}s approach to running in Port Arthur seems to be a desire for a guaranteed cabinet position!{d-1} In the election called for 14 Oct. 1935 the Liberal chances of victory were extremely good: the Conservative government{apos}s failed attempts to counter the effects of the depression had made it deeply unpopular.

The new minister{apos}s legislative docket was full. In forming his new department he had to resolve the difficult political question of the administration of Canada{apos}s ports and harbours, a system fraught with patronage. Local Liberals naturally favoured autonomy for the various harbour commissions; reformers preferred centralization as the best way to deter corruption. He took the side of reform, and had to face down a storm of indignation from the Conservatives as well as his fellow Liberals. Next, Howe had to manage the creation of two new crown corporations to deal with technological advances of the 20th century: air travel and radio broadcasting. The age of commercial aviation was just dawning, but in a country like Canada, with its vast distances and small population, the economics were discouraging. He initially proposed a public-private mix to create a Canadian airline, a partnership between the federally owned Canadian National Railways and the privately run Canadian Pacific Railway. The government would provide the operating capital, which, in Howe{apos}s view, entitled the government and the CNR to a majority of the seats on the proposed board of directors. Sir Edward Wentworth Beatty* of the CPR baulked, as did James Armstrong Richardson* of Winnipeg{apos}s Canadian Airways. Both felt that their companies had been short-changed by the minister{apos}s decisions. Howe proceeded to set up, in April 1937, a wholly government-owned company, Trans-Canada Air Lines. Accompanied by Herbert James Symington*, who would become TCA{apos}s president in 1941, Howe inaugurated the new airline by taking a gruelling flight from Montreal to Vancouver on 30 July. It was not an event that could be lightly repeated, but it was a harbinger of things to come in aviation. Shortly before the trip, broadcasting had been regulated and the government{apos}s existing radio activities consolidated into the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. In these latter achievements Howe played a small but important role by helping to choose the executives; the enabling legislation was largely the work of other hands.

Howe continued as minister of transport through the winter of 1939-40, and participated as the regional minister for northern Ontario in the general election of March 1940. The result was another triumph for King and the Liberals, exceeding the 1935 victory in both the percentage of the popular vote and the total number of seats. King needed the support: the war ceased to be phoney when the Germans attacked Denmark and Norway on 9 April, and, on 10 May, the Low Countries, and then France. On 9 April the supply act passed the previous September was proclaimed. The Department of Munitions and Supply was established, and Howe was named minister. In later years he would be considered the inevitable, the appropriate, choice to run Canada{apos}s industrial war effort. It did not seem so at the time. The Liberals were unpopular among the business elites in Montreal, Toronto, Winnipeg, and Vancouver. Howe might be known in the grain trade, but his was not a name to conjure with on St James (Saint-Jacques) Street or Bay Street, where it was felt that the business of war required leadership from businessmen.

The new minister was fortunate to find waiting for him at the War Supply Board three outstanding men: Henry Borden, a prominent Toronto corporate lawyer who was medically unfit for combat; Robert Alexander Cecil (Red) Henry*, a former federal deputy minister of railways and canals; and Gordon Wallace Scott, a well-known Montreal businessman. They were transformed into an unofficial executive committee, and to their number, on Borden{apos}s recommendation, was added Edward Plunkett Taylor*, an extremely active if somewhat unscrupulous Toronto financier. Under Howe, the department functioned more like a large corporation than a government body. Its executives were business veterans, not civil servants, and most agreed to work in Ottawa for the nominal pay of a dollar, becoming known as {d-0}dollar-a-year men.{d-1} (Their original firms generally paid their salaries.) The department{apos}s powers were vast. Howe could do virtually anything he wanted in the interest of the war, including seizing private property, diverting necessary materials from civilian use to war production, and altering contracts. Broadly, his tasks were to regulate scarce materials and generate war supplies, and therefore the department was divided between controls, headed by Borden, and production, eventually run by Harry John Carmichael*, who was brought in from General Motors of Canada.

The war news in the spring of 1940 was desperate. The Germans conquered the Low Countries in May, and France in June. The British retrieved most of their army from Dunkirk, but lost most of their equipment. They needed all the supplies they could get, and Howe proposed to provide them. It did not matter, he told his executive committee at the end of June, that there were no firm orders as yet. They should proceed as if there were. As Borden remembered Howe{apos}s words, {d-0}Before the war is over everything will be needed so let{apos}s go ahead anyway. If we lose the war nothing will matter.... If we win the war the cost will still have been of no consequence and will have been forgotten.{d-1}

Howe had already altered his department{apos}s structure, making it less hierarchical and more reliant on individual initiative. In June 1940 he did more, using his powers to establish new crown corporations to buy supplies and create goods. The first three dealt in silk (used for parachutes), rubber, and machine tools - all scarce, and all bought outside the country. Then Howe moved to ensure that his department alone would handle supplies destined for Canada{apos}s allies. By March 1942 all lines of contact would pass through his ministry, an arrangement in force until the war{apos}s end.

Not everything proceeded smoothly. The American minister to Canada, Jay Pierrepont Moffat, compared Howe to the ringmaster of {d-0}a thirty ring circus,{d-1} and while the spectacle was admirable, slip-ups were inevitable: for example, there were problems in aircraft production due to conflicting information and unclear priorities. The government{apos}s financial advisers became alarmed by the drain on Canada{apos}s scarce foreign exchange reserves caused by purchases of essential equipment in the United States. In the fall the Wartime Requirements Board was created for the purpose of examining the department{apos}s expenditures. Harvey Reginald MacMillan*, a Vancouver-based lumber magnate appointed to head the board, was used to getting his own way, and he disapproved of Howe{apos}s often haphazard methods. He let it be known that he thought he could do better. Howe chose this moment to go overseas to deal directly with his British customers. He sailed out of New York on 6 December, and his ship, the Western Prince, was torpedoed by a German U-boat on the night of the 13th. Scott, who was travelling with the minister, was lost, but Howe was rescued and proceeded to London. When he returned in January he found that his exploit had done him no harm politically; however, a major crisis had erupted out of MacMillan{apos}s charges of sloppy management.

Howe was frequently regarded by his contemporaries as a rather clumsy politician, yet now, when his career was at stake, he demonstrated considerable skill and real insight in dealing with King, the only man whose opinion counted. He persuaded the prime minister and other cabinet members that his department was not badly administered and that there were no lurking scandals that could damage the government. Then, on 26 Feb. 1941, he defended MacMillan in the House of Commons, declaring that, since MacMillan had taken an oath of secrecy, he could not possibly be the source of gossip or rumours. It was also pointed out that MacMillan had retailed his complaints of maladministration to political enemies. King concluded that MacMillan was {d-0}a traitor, by violating his oath of secrecy, and a conspirator and a cat{apos}s paw in the hands of those playing a Tory game.{d-1} Howe sailed serenely above it all. He told MacMillan to head up shipbuilding in Montreal - take it or leave it. MacMillan took it, swallowed his complaints, and later in life praised Howe as {d-0}the greatest organizer Canada has ever seen.{d-1} There were no further eruptions from munitions and supply. The department{apos}s Conservatives, such as Borden, admired the minister, supported his work, and insulated him from the official opposition. This loyalty was based in part on the fact that, philosophically, there was little difference between him and his business appointees.

In his dealings with labour, Howe was less fortunate. Accustomed to the traditionally minded, politically centrist craft unions, he was unprepared for the industrial unions that dominated the large factories of central Canada. He was even more unprepared for unofficial labour movements of the kind that shut down the plant of the Aluminium Company of Canada in Arvida (Saguenay), Que., beginning in July 1941. Work stoppage of any duration would mean that the smelting pots at the factory would freeze, requiring costly, time-consuming repairs and interrupting an important component of the national war effort. That fact counted with Howe; for the rest, he listened to wild tales spun by company executives featuring purported enemy aliens leading gullible French Canadian workers onto the picket lines. Howe demanded that the army be sent in; otherwise, he would resign. Justice minister Lapointe refused, telling King that {d-0}Howe has allowed himself to be deceived by the Alumin[i]um Company{d-1} about a situation that had really been precipitated by bad management and poor communication. Howe did not resign, though he came close, and he may have learned something from the experience, for he did not repeat the threat for the duration of the war (in January 1946 he would be irritated enough to hint at resignation during a dispute with King). Both he and his department{apos}s officials would gradually alter their attitude towards organized labour. Union representatives would find their way onto the boards of crown corporations that reported to Howe, and his relations with unions would become, at worst, polite. The overriding considerations were that war production must be uninterrupted, and Canada{apos}s reputation as a reliable supplier to its own forces and to its allies must be maintained.

Attention to the needs of French Canadians was crucial to King{apos}s government, whose members did not have to be reminded of the damage wrought by the conscription crisis of 1917-18. French was not among the subjects Howe had studied after high school, and his experience at Dalhousie and in the grain trade had not exposed him to many French-speakers. He respected Lapointe, though the two were not close. After Lapointe died in November 1941, King replaced him as minister of justice with Louis-Stephen St Laurent*, whom Howe grew to admire and respect for his decisiveness and good judgement. King was soon using St Laurent when he needed to make a case to Howe, as, for example, when he wished Howe to take on responsibility for post-war reconstruction in 1944.

The ability to supply allies was an important asset in Canada{apos}s dealings with both the United States and Great Britain. Canada relied on the United States for materials ranging from oil to iron ore to machine tools; in return, Canada provided products not readily available south of the border. This situation was central to a problem that was resolved during the winter of 1941. Canada required American dollars to buy supplies in the United States that would be converted into arms for Great Britain. The British did not have the money to pay for the arms except through the terms of the Americans{s-1-unknown} Lend-Lease Bill. Howe believed that Canadian dependence on lend-lease would be economically disadvantageous. Instead, he and William Clifford Clark, the deputy minister of finance, negotiated American access to Canada{apos}s products on a reciprocal basis, and opened the way for Britain to spend its American currency to buy supplies to be used in Canada. This complicated package was then ratified by King and President Franklin Delano Roosevelt as the Hyde Park Agreement on 9 April 1941. With minor modifications it kept Canadian war finance and production on an even keel.

Howe{apos}s success depended on an adequate labour force, which proved more and more difficult to maintain as the war dragged on. Full employment was achieved as early as October 1941; however, there were clashing commitments. Canada wished to field a large army in addition to an air force and navy, but as the third-ranking industrial power among the Allies, it also had to staff its munitions factories. Howe had mixed feelings when, in 1942, the question of conscription for overseas service arose. He approved of the commitment in theory, but in practice wanted more workers at home rather than more soldiers abroad. Inevitably, he argued with Minister of National Defence James Layton Ralston*. In October 1944, when conscription again became an issue and threatened to alienate French Canada, Howe agreed with most of his English-speaking colleagues that it was urgent to send reinforcements to the country{apos}s battered army in Europe. Yet he was not a leader among the pro-conscription ministers, and was greatly relieved when {d-0}the old man,{d-1} as he called King, managed a compromise by delaying conscription until the need for replacement troops had declined.

By late 1944 the war was winding down, and politicians had begun to contemplate what the world and Canada would be like after its end. The general opinion was that depression would return. Such a situation would require careful management and extensive government intervention - in effect, a continuation of wartime controls and directed production. Howe differed. The country had gone through 15 years of deferred demand, and thanks to the war and compulsory savings, Canadians had plenty of money to spend. Although aware of his minister{apos}s views, King believed that no one else in the cabinet had his executive capacity and in October 1944 he made Howe responsible for reconstruction, which would mean converting the wartime economy. The plausibility of the government{apos}s economic policy would determine the Liberal Party{apos}s fate; a great deal, therefore, would ride on Howe{apos}s performance.

The Department of Reconstruction (it would later become the Department of Reconstruction and Supply) was Howe{apos}s primary ministerial home for the next four years. His main task was to assist Canadian industry to move from producing tanks and planes to manufacturing refrigerators and cars. To those willing to change he offered {d-0}accelerated depreciation{d-1} to reduce taxes, with the understanding that the government would recover the depreciation from taxes on future profits. It was an incentive, and in his opinion it was all that was necessary. When businessmen came to Ottawa looking for subsidies and assured contracts, the minister snorted in disgust. {d-0}John, I{apos}m sorry to see that you{apos}ve joined the security brigade,{d-1} he exclaimed to one old friend, John Bertram Stirling. What was needed was less government interference, not more.

Admittedly, that was not the impression the electorate was given. In 1945, entering their first post-war contest (Howe was victorious for the third time), the Liberals declared that there would be {d-0}full employment,{d-1} which they allowed voters to believe would flow from careful Liberal management of the economy. A white paper on employment and income composed by William Archibald Mackintosh* and issued under Howe{apos}s authority analysed the problem and promised action. (Howe proved to be a difficult student when being briefed on the paper{apos}s contents.) Probably most Liberal candidates, and most Liberal ministers, believed in the document and expected that somehow the government would truly manage things. Howe did not tell them how different his expectations were from theirs. Based on the promise of full employment, and on the government{apos}s successful record in job creation during the war, Canadians re-elected the Liberals; their majority, though small, ensured a full four-year term in office.

Howe{apos}s optimism was justified. By the beginning of 1946 the Canadian economy was humming along, and controls were steadily being dismantled. In fact, too many dollars were chasing too few commodities. Prices rose, but so did wages, assisted by a few spectacular strikes. The main problem was a chronic trade deficit with the United States, which resulted in a set of negotiations over the winter of 1947-48. A bold plan was developed to merge the two economies - in effect, abolishing the border where trade was concerned - and create a customs union. Howe knew of these talks, and approved. Then, in March 1948, King had second thoughts and discussions were terminated. Astounded, a senior American official asked Howe for an explanation. He replied that there was no cause for alarm: all the {d-0}responsible ministers{d-1} in Ottawa supported the plan, and once some {d-0}domestic considerations{d-1} had been worked out, matters could proceed. The most important {d-0}domestic consideration{d-1} was King, very aware that his time in office was limited, anxious about his political legacy, and displeased by the implication that his decision would be reversed after his retirement. When he summoned his minister to demand that he explain his comments, Howe protested that he had offered the Americans no commitments, and King accepted the denial. After all, he told his diary, {d-0}in matters of the kind, Howe is almost an innocent abroad.{d-1}

King had announced that he would step down as party leader after a convention in August 1948. He wanted St Laurent to be his successor; transferring the leadership to a French Canadian would, King hoped, help cement national unity. St Laurent reluctantly agreed to run, and Howe appointed himself campaign manager. His enthusiasm supplemented King{apos}s careful stage management, which aimed to give St Laurent a veritable triumph that would remind Canadians of the Liberal Party{apos}s strength and talented ministers. St Laurent easily won. After taking office on 15 Nov. 1948, the new prime minister removed Howe from what had become the largely superfluous post of minister of reconstruction and supply and put him in charge of the Department of Trade and Commerce.

His new job was not very demanding. Trade was managed by the deputy minister, Maxwell Weir Mackenzie, and there was not much room for policy innovation. During Howe{apos}s tenure (1948-57) Canada remained a high-tariff, protectionist jurisdiction. He took on responsibility for the Canadian Wheat Board, Trans-Canada Air Lines, and atomic energy (which involved uranium mining and reactor development), and kept in contact with his former dollar-a-year men, known as {d-0}Howe{apos}s boys,{d-1} who were now among the senior members of the country{apos}s business elite. His staff dabbled in economic forecasting, a relative novelty, while the minister kept his fingers on the pulses of Canada{apos}s very diverse economy.

Both as minister of reconstruction and as minister of trade and commerce, Howe encouraged investment in the Canadian economy. To foreign companies he offered a stable, prosperous, relatively low-tax environment, thereby creating what the prestigious American business monthly, Fortune (Chicago), would describe in August 1952 as a {d-0}businessman{apos}s country.{d-1} Yet while he was an advocate of private enterprise and governmental non-interference, he also made sure that the government had a role in the marketplace. He presided over the sale of wheat, the mining of uranium, a barge company, an artificial-rubber plant, and a very large airline that competed vigorously with private-sector rivals. In Howe{apos}s opinion, crown corporations were needed because nobody else could do the job, though he might have qualified it by saying that nobody else could do the job as well.

Howe{apos}s prominent, perhaps dominant, role drew considerable, sometimes unfavourable, attention from the press. He could be impatient, even irascible, when criticized in the house. The minister was usually lucky; the opposition did not know that he did not always have cabinet backing for his policy statements. For example, on 5 Dec. 1945 he had announced that Canada would not pursue an atomic weapons program. No one contradicted him, and no one called him to account. For Howe it was a matter of economics rather than philosophy. In November of that year he had declared that cutting a million-dollar item from a billion-dollar set of estimates would be a relatively small saving. But his remark was rephrased by John George Diefenbaker* as {d-0}What{apos}s a million?{d-1} and was cited as an example of government arrogance. James MacKerras Macdonnell, a more thoughtful Conservative MP, observed that Howe was {d-0}quite a conundrum to me, because I think he believes in energy, private initiative and all that kind of thing. What I am troubled about is that I think he still believes far more in his own personal power.... The Minister got his training in wartime, and I do not believe that kind of mentality is necessarily good for this kind of job [as minister of reconstruction].{d-1} But the opposition{apos}s misgivings had little effect on public opinion. In 1948-49 the government was riding high, and in June 1949, under St Laurent{apos}s leadership, the Liberals won a large majority in a general election.

In the meantime Howe got another chance to prove his abilities in wartime. The Cold War had begun, and in 1949 Canada had joined the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, originally conceived as a political rather than a military alliance. The country{apos}s armed forces had been drastically reduced, equipment needs could be met from World War II stocks, and the prospect of conflict did not appear on the horizon. In June 1950, however, North Korea, lavishly supplied by the Soviet Union, invaded South Korea, an act unanimously condemned by the United Nations Security Council. Unexpectedly, the American president, Harry S. Truman, decided to assist South Korea, and secured UN authorization to send an army to Asia. Canadians enthusiastically supported his action, and as a result the country was suddenly at war. Early in August Lester Bowles Pearson*, secretary of state for external affairs, and Brooke CLAXTON, minister of national defence, reported to the cabinet that a general war was probable, and planes, ships, and troops were committed as part of a UN force under American command. Yet plans for industrial mobilization on the World War II model, with, naturally, Howe in charge, were not fully implemented until late in the year, when a wave of panic swept through western capitals. During the fall the Americans had defeated the North Koreans, but the Chinese had intervened and defeated the Americans. For a time it seemed that disaster loomed. After visiting Washington in December, Howe declared that {d-0}our friends in the United States are suffering from hysteria in a very advanced stage,{d-1} and he found himself {d-0}getting back into the business of war munitions much against my better judgment.{d-1}

Peace came just before the federal election in August. The Liberals won another large majority; for Howe it was his fifth triumph in Port Arthur. He assumed it would be his last campaign. {d-0}I had an understanding with our leader [St Laurent],{d-1} he would later write, {d-0}that we would both retire after a year or two in office and give the new leader time to get organized. Unfortunately,{d-1} he continued, {d-0}our leader changed his mind.{d-1} And with him, Howe changed his. He was motivated in part by a decline in the prime minister{apos}s performance. During 1954 and after, St Laurent was subject to fits of depression, and Howe was obliged to take on extra responsibilities. He was in his late sixties and his health was generally good, though a touch of angina caused him to be more irascible than in the past. When St Laurent was well he could keep his colleague in check; now this restraint was no longer always possible. The consequences were demonstrated in 1955 during a difficult debate on extending the emergency powers granted the minister by the Defence Production Act. Howe did not manage the situation adroitly, and eventually a compromise bill was passed in his absence. He regarded the concessions as a sign of weakness and felt betrayed; there was press speculation about his apparently declining influence. For his part, Howe blamed his younger colleagues, especially Pearson. Canada now had {d-0}a government which has fallen into the hands of children.{d-1}

Yet Howe had, he believed, enough energy and time for a large project. There had been several in the early 1950s: the construction of the Kitimat aluminum smelter in British Columbia, the development of iron ore mines in the Nouveau-Québec district., and the start of work on the St Lawrence Seaway. Now he had in mind an undertaking that would, he hoped, enhance Canada{apos}s energy security by connecting the oil and natural gas fields of Alberta to the people and industrial centres of central Canada. An oil pipeline was progressing well, snaking to Ontario via the American upper midwest. A natural gas pipeline, Howe thought, should be constructed entirely in Canada. He expected that the enterprise would be a paying proposition, and encouraged private investors to form a single large company. Yet though the project was intended to serve Canadian interests, it could not be built entirely with Canadian resources; it needed American money and technology. There had been a great deal of American investment in Canada, and some Canadian nationalists, even within the Liberal Party, were becoming concerned that the country had been sold off to the United States. The opposition was not above using Howe{apos}s American birth to explain his supposedly pro-American policies. The minister had to be sensitive to the nationalists{s-1-unknown} opinion even if in public he argued (and seems genuinely to have believed) that a company located in and doing business in Canada was a Canadian company, no matter who owned it.

This was the beginning of the famous pipeline debate, which lasted until 7 June, just before TCPL{apos}s option to buy its steel pipe expired. The opposition knew there was a deadline, and, led by Stanley Howard Knowles* of the Co-operative Commonwealth Federation, did everything it could to obstruct the bill{apos}s passage. The government, for its part, did everything it could to ram the bill through the house. This end was accomplished after the speaker, Louis-René Beaudoin*, breached parliamentary procedure. The government may have won the argument, and the vote - the Conservatives had no viable alternative, though the CCF suggested a nationalized pipeline - but the Liberals had forgotten that politics is also theatre. In this area they were decisively defeated, being made to look like tyrants overriding the democratic process.

For the time being the opposition was unable to capitalize on its rhetorical triumph. George Alexander Drew*, the ailing leader of the Conservatives, could not unite his party to block other government measures and force an election. In December the Conservatives chose Diefenbaker as Drew{apos}s replacement. That winter the polls showed that Liberal strength was holding, as indeed they would show right up to the next voting day. Still, there were other troublesome issues: the failure to sell Canadian wheat owing to American wheat surpluses, subsidies, and giveaways; the Suez crisis of November 1956; and a poorly received budget in the following spring.

At the end of April 1957 St Laurent dissolved parliament and called an election for June. Howe played a prominent role in the western campaign, and an increasingly unpopular one: across the country, he was reviled as {d-0}Dictator Howe.{d-1} Wheat farmers were up in arms; Howe{apos}s defensive, blustering performance alienated what party support remained in the prairie provinces. Necessarily away from his own constituency, he did not understand until the last minute that he might be personally defeated, as he was, by an attractive young high school teacher, Douglas Mason Fisher, running for the CCF. Howe took the loss as well as he could. {d-0}There are so many things to do!{d-1} he told Fisher{apos}s mother on election night. Brave words, but for the moment, they were empty. For the first time in his life, at 71, he had nothing to do.

After Diefenbaker took control of a minority government, Howe lingered in Ottawa, occasionally consoling St Laurent, now head of the opposition. He supported Pearson, who ran for and won the Liberal leadership at a convention in January 1958. In June, after burning many of his papers, Howe left Ottawa for Montreal, which he considered a lively business city. He served as chancellor of Dalhousie University and became chairman of the board of Price Brothers and Company, a pulp and paper firm largely owned by Lord Beaverbrook [Aitken*]. He began attending Anglican church services for the first time in his life, mainly for social reasons. It was not an uneventful existence: he and Beaverbrook quarrelled, and 1959 and 1960 were taken up with boardroom battles. In the spring of 1960 he raised money for Quebec{apos}s new Liberal leader, Jean Lesage*, a colleague in St Laurent{apos}s cabinet, for a provincial election. To Howe{apos}s great satisfaction, Lesage won. Howe also received a number of prizes and honorary degrees, and worked hard on his speeches for such occasions.

On New Year{apos}s Eve 1960 he and Alice settled down to watch a hockey game on television. Complaining of feeling unwell, he went to lie down and soon thereafter died of a heart attack.

Clarence Decatur Howe was an unusual character in Canadian public life. His most notable accomplishment was to link business and government in a way that was unique - unprecedented before his arrival on the political scene, unachievable after his departure, when it became impossible for a politician to use his power first to control and then to guide business leaders. He was pre-eminently a creature of World War II, daring to take risks, organizing an extraordinarily complicated industrial war effort, and managing a varied and often difficult generation of executives. Howe backed his {d-0}boys{d-1} and in return they gave him both loyalty and affection. It was a relationship that lasted as long as Howe lived, a period in which Canada{apos}s business elite was more {d-0}national{d-1} in its focus than it had ever been - or would be again.

Nellie L. Mooney was the youngest of six children. Her Methodist father had immigrated from County Tipperary (Republic of Ireland) to Upper Canada in 1830 and worked as a shantyman in Ottawa River lumber camps; he settled in 1841 on a free-grant farm of 50 rocky acres near Chatsworth, south of Georgian Bay, and married Letitia McCurdy, a Scottish-born Presbyterian 20 years his junior. Nellie{apos}s autobiography describes them as good Christians who valued hard work, education, rural life, and discipline. She loved her father{apos}s Irish wit and light-heartedness and admired her mother{apos}s determination and sense of personal duty, if not her strict Calvinist approach to life.

In 1880 the family joined the migration of land-hungry farmers to the prairies, in their case by steamship, ox-cart, and foot to the Souris River valley in Manitoba. After rejecting land that might have involved uncomfortably close contact with Métis neighbours, they chose an isolated holding southwest of Portage la Prairie, near Millford. Life there was demanding, yet the holding proved more prosperous than the farm in Ontario. Nellie{apos}s childhood, colourfully captured in her autobiographic Clearing in the west ... (1935), unfolded in an affectionate Methodist family that took for granted its right to displace natives and Métis and create a dominant British community. Her escape from the demands of farming was the prairies, where, she recalled, she was free to {d-0}run wild{d-1} before attending school at age nine. A close reading of her autobiography, however, suggests that chores and parental efforts to control a strong-willed daughter curbed her range. Still, she would always cherish her experience as a homesteader and would draw, in her writing, on memories of {d-0}the cold road{d-1} and {d-0}hair frozen to the bedclothes at night{d-1} to explain her empathy for rural women. First exposed at a community picnic to drunkenness, an abiding theme in her life{apos}s work, she quickly agreed with her mother that liquor was {d-0}one of the devil{apos}s devices for confounding mankind.{d-1} Ultimately, as historian Pierre Berton* would observe, {d-0}she was a product of the prairies, as Western as Red Fife.{d-1} She was not only prairie educated but also prairie schooled. Initially a reluctant learner, she studied hard and with pleasure for six years at the Northfield school near Millford under teacher Frank Schultz. Nellie later credited him with encouraging her ambition. He also helped her question settlers{s-1-unknown} dispossession of the natives and Métis. During children{apos}s re-enactments, her choice to play Poundmaker [Pītikwahanapiwīyin*], a Cree leader in the North-West rebellion of 1885, foreshadowed sympathy with, but no real comprehension of the problems of, Canada{apos}s First Nations, whom she, like most white Canadians of her day, saw as a dying race. Literature soon joined prairie history and landscape as inspiration. The written word, beginning with the Ontario readers, Collier{apos}s History of England, and the Family Herald and Weekly Star (Montreal), offered companionship and guidance.

In 1889 Nellie entered the Winnipeg Normal School to attain a second-class teaching certificate, one of the few professional options for women. The school fed her thirst for more literature. After reading Charles Dickens{apos}s novel The life and adventures of Martin Chuzzlewit, she {d-0}knew in that radiance what a writer can be at his best, an interpreter, a revealer of secrets, a heavenly surgeon, a sculptor who can bring an angel out of a stone.{d-1} Her lifelong restiveness with authority was also fuelled by a faith that books, or more broadly education, illuminated the oppression of ordinary people and offered a tool for liberation.

Her adult life and teaching career began in 1890 at Hazel school near Manitou, Man., where she taught all eight grades. Paid employment would last five years, in four different schools in south-central Manitoba. She started off with some controversy: she introduced football for girls as well as boys, in order to foster fair play and discipline, and she dramatized alcohol{apos}s destructive effects with a temperance chart. Both initiatives sparked parental protest, which she controlled with the good humour and diplomacy that would later serve her so well. The young teacher matured rapidly, sharpening her politics and extending her network of friends. In 1892 she took a job at the Manitou school and boarded with the family of Methodist minister James Adam McClung. She was impressed with his wife, Annie E., a leader in the Woman{apos}s Christian Temperance Union and an ardent champion of women{apos}s suffrage, and soon joined in her agitations. Nellie{apos}s growing affection and profound respect for Mrs McClung directly influenced her decision to marry into the family. A romance developed with their second son, Wesley, a pharmacy student. Her horizons were further broadened in 1894 by six months at the Winnipeg Collegiate Institute, where she gained an Isbister Scholarship and a first-class certificate. She then took a post at the school in Treherne, once again boarding with the McClungs, who had relocated there; in 1895 she returned as a teacher to Northfield and lived with her widowed mother. The following year she married Wesley McClung and settled in Manitou, where he ran a drugstore. Certain in her choice, she wrote {d-0}I knew I could be happy with Wes.... I would not be afraid of life with him.{d-1} Though forced by convention to give up her job upon marriage, she would remain an educator for the rest of her life.

Nellie{apos}s second autobiographical volume, The stream runs fast ... (1945), captures her married life and full engagement in reform. A secure member of the middle class as the wife of Manitou{apos}s druggist, she revelled in social activism, authorship, politics, and child rearing. Raised to view women as equals, Wesley offered full support. Something of a {d-0}new man,{d-1} he quietly championed feminism as critical to community betterment. The births of John Wesley (Jack) (1897), Florence (1899), Paul (1900), Horace Barrie (1906), and Mark (1911) brought joy and additional work. Nellie almost always had hired help, usually young immigrant (often Finnish or Ukrainian) women. She would identify many as friends, sometimes portray them in her writing, and present good, some might say paternalistic, relations as one way to assimilate newcomers. The arrival of babies also furthered the goals of feminism. As a child, Nellie had resented the fact that {d-0}it was the women who were responsible for everything{d-1} and questioned the {d-0}Old-World reverence for men{d-1} demonstrated by her mother and others. Horrified by the physical complaints of her first pregnancy, she turned to maternalism, an ideology that treated women not as victims of nature but as blessed beings with a divine purpose. Reverence for motherhood, a popular dogma of her age, strengthened her growing critique of gendered injustice and her sense of women{apos}s solidarity.

Nellie argued in her autobiography that {d-0}women must be made to feel their responsibility. All this protective love ... must be organized in some way, and made effective.{d-1} Determined in Manitou not to become {d-0}the most deadly uninteresting person and the one who has the greatest temptation not to think at all[,]... the comfortable and happily married woman,{d-1} the young mother fought complacency. With practical support from her mother-in-law and hired help, she forged a life beyond the home. In 1902, under pressure from Annie McClung, she entered a short-story contest for Collier{apos}s, a leading American family magazine. Although not a winner, her composition became the initial chapter of her best-selling novel Sowing seeds in Danny (1908), the first of a trilogy based on the feisty character of Pearl Watson. Like her maker, this young British settler upset conventions. In The second chance (1910) and Purple Springs (1921), she targeted everything, including the battering of wives and children, laws against women, single motherhood, the need for day-care centres, prairie isolation, Calvinist guilt, the hoarding of money, and allowing Indians to be rooted in their own cultures. As a heroine, Pearl belongs with Lucy Maud Montgomery*{apos}s Anne Shirley and such American characters as Pollyanna and Elsie Dinsmore. Sowing goodness and dispelling ignorance, she offered an attractive vision of small-town and rural Protestant youth.

Like her star, Nellie espoused a strong sense of Christian duty as a responsible householder and community volunteer. She was active in Manitou{apos}s WCTU, Methodist Ladies{s-1-unknown} Aid, Home Economics Association, Epworth League (a Methodist youth organization), Band of Hope (the WCTU children{apos}s group), and Methodist Sunday school. She also enjoyed the travelling entertainers who brightened life before radio and film. With Wesley, she {d-0}got into every attraction that, in the early nineties, ever took to the road.{d-1} On one occasion she met Canada{apos}s leading native performer, critic, and writer, Emily Pauline Johnson*, who would become a devoted friend.

In the WCTU, with its goal of sober improvement superintended by responsible women, Nellie felt most able to tackle inequality. Like other feminists, she found Canada{apos}s largest women{apos}s organization a source of political growth and friendship. At a WCTU convention in 1907 in Manitou, when she endeavoured to arouse support or {d-0}fire the heather,{d-1} she {d-0}felt the stirrings of ambition to be a public speaker.{d-1} Retrospectively she asserted, {d-0}It is quite likely that there is no person else who remembers that speech, but I remember it.... For the first time I knew I had the power of speech. I saw faces brighten, eyes glisten, and felt the atmosphere crackle with a new power.{d-1} As a highly popular author and fiery speaker, she was in demand around the province. Although chastised for spending time away from her children, she believed respectable motherhood was entirely compatible with outside work, paid and unpaid.

During her travels, and as a wife and mother, Nellie furthered her critical awareness of the social, economic, and political changes engulfing Canada. Immigration, especially from eastern and southern Europe, brought a new ethnic mix that caused her simultaneously to fear the future and to sympathize with the dispossessed. She identified male privilege as central to many problems, including family desertion, alcoholism, the appropriation of wives{s-1-unknown} wages, domestic violence, custody battles, and farm-women{apos}s isolation. A deeply religious and socially concerned Methodist, she joined enthusiastic Manitoba apostles of the Social Gospel (the belief that Christianity demanded social, not just individual, reform), among them James Shaver Woodsworth*, the superintendent of All Peoples{s-1-unknown} Mission in Winnipeg, and Ella Cora Hind*, a reporter and suffragist, in questioning much of the status quo. Part of a close-knit progressive alliance, she increasingly looked to the state to remedy abuses.

When Wesley accepted a position with the Manufacturers{s-1-unknown} Life Insurance Company in 1911, the McClungs moved to Winnipeg. Nellie was welcomed as a seasoned crusader by the booming capital{apos}s established reformers. Even while producing a new collection of stories, The Black Creek Stopping-House ... (1912), she found time to absorb her surroundings. Winnipeg exposed her to the problems of rapid urban development; industrial exploitation, homelessness, and violence deepened her social conscience. Within a short time, the provincial Conservative government of Rodmond Palen Roblin* found her a force to be reckoned with. The weekly meetings of the Canadian Women{apos}s Press Club provided an early platform. Here the germ for an organization devoted to women{apos}s right to vote was planted: {d-0}It was not enough for us to meet and talk and eat chicken sandwiches and olives. We felt we should organize and create a public sentiment in favour of women{apos}s suffrage.{d-1} The visit in 1911 of British feminist Emmeline Pankhust spurred awareness of international movements. Nellie also worked with the Local Council of Women, which campaigned for a female factory inspector to protect women workers. Nellie and Mrs Claude Nash, a friend of Roblin, took the recalcitrant leader through Winnipeg{apos}s deplorable factories, but to no avail. His refusal confirmed the need for a new politics.

Together with other educated middle-class activists, including Hind, Lillian Kate Thomas [Beynon*], her sister Francis Marion BEYNON, Margaret Winona Dixon [Flett*], and Dr Amelia Yeomans [Le Sueur*], in early 1912 Nellie founded the Political Equality League, recognized by historian Catherine Lyle Cleverdon as {d-0}one of the most enterprising and successful suffrage organizations in the dominion.{d-1} Although primarily concerned with the vote, the league{apos}s diverse membership, gathered from the WCTU, labour{apos}s ranks, and the progressive Icelandic community, also embraced Prohibition and reforms in women{apos}s legal status and labour law. When crusading for the PEL, Canada Monthly (London, Ont.) would report in 1916, Nellie was {d-0}as vivid as a tiger lily at a funeral.{d-1} A highpoint in the campaign was her leading role in The women{apos}s parliament, a play organized by the PEL and performed at Winnipeg{apos}s Walker Theatre. This remarkable satire was a strategic response to the league{apos}s abortive attempt to get Manitoba{apos}s Legislative Assembly to act on a massive suffrage petition. In the legislature on 27 Jan. 1914, Roblin {d-0}never had a closer listener in all his life{d-1} than Nellie, who became the perfect mimic as she memorized his arguments and affectations. On stage the next evening, in an all-female assembly in an imagined province where men were denied suffrage, she played the premier, patronizing a male delegation and rejecting men{apos}s appeal for the franchise, joint guardianship of children, and economic independence. Newspapers reported merriment and applause as the arrogant premier met his comeuppance.

When a provincial election was called for July, Nellie became the unofficial leader of the franchise cause. Like many progressives, she was suspicious of partisan politics and resolved to fight on her own terms. She nonetheless addressed many meetings for the Liberals, who endorsed suffrage. Branded by the media as {d-0}the heroine of the campaign{d-1} and a {d-0}Canadian Joan of Arc,{d-1} she was burned in effigy in Brandon by the Conservatives. Little wonder Nellie remembered the campaign as {d-0}full of excitement - meetings, interviews, statements, contradictions, and through it all the consuming conviction that we were making history.{d-1} The Liberals did not win, but suffrage was clearly centre stage. In 1915 the Conservatives were beaten and a year later Manitoba became the first province to enfranchise women.

By the late summer of 1914 Nellie had been shocked by the prospect of war, concerned for the fate of both civilization and her 17-year-old son, Jack. Although she endorsed peace efforts, she nevertheless believed that a despotic and patriarchal Germany should be defeated. Her support strained relationships with pacifist friends such as the Beynons. In December, on account of Wesley{apos}s work, the family moved, this time to Edmonton, the {d-0}Gateway to the North.{d-1} Nellie immediately found her place, becoming an influential member of the Equal Franchise League, the organization responsible for delivering a suffrage petition with 12,000 signatures to Liberal premier Arthur Lewis Watkins Sifton*. She joined forces with prominent feminist Emily Gowan Murphy [Ferguson*]. She became the honorary president of the Edmonton Women{apos}s Institute and the Methodist Woman{apos}s Missionary Society of Alberta, maintained her interest in the Women{apos}s Canadian Club, and joined the Red Cross and the Canadian Patriotic Fund. As well, she continued to be a popular lecturer. In October 1915 Toronto{apos}s largest halls and churches could not accommodate the crowds eager to witness her {d-0}quintessentially Western energy.{d-1}

In 1915 her best-known volume, In times like these, was published. This tour de force, a mixture of wit, satire, good humour, and common sense, assembled PEL speeches, wartime addresses, and feminist and temperance arguments. Suffrage was firmly linked to Prohibition: enfranchised women would support temperance and sweep away many moral and social tragedies. Appearing before the Alberta legislature in 1915 as part of a large suffrage delegation, Nellie asserted {d-0}our plea is not for mercy but for justice.{d-1} She was rewarded. Temperance forces won the provincial referendum on liquor on 15 July; by the next year the sale of alcohol was outlawed. On 19 April 1916 Alberta became the second province to give most women the right to vote.

Nellie{apos}s son Jack had enlisted in the summer of 1915. In despair, she would write The next of kin ... (1917) in tribute. In 1916 she spent six weeks, her longest lecture tour, speaking in the United States for the National American Woman Suffrage Association. Her openness about her feelings as a soldier{apos}s mother brought the war home to many Americans. During a second tour, in 1917 after America had joined the conflict, she found audiences keen for advice on comforting their boys. By 1918, when she published Three times and out, told by Private Simmons, Nellie was convinced that women should join in plans for post-war reconstruction. After writing to Unionist prime minister Sir Robert Laird Borden*, she and Emily Murphy were invited to Ottawa to join the Women{apos}s War Conference of 1918, the first time the Canadian state officially consulted women. After World War I victory came on many fronts. Nellie welcomed her son{apos}s safe return and celebrated progress for her sex: {d-0}Women have won as great a victory as the battle of Verdun!{d-1}

The post-war world, however, saw no consensus about the future among Canada{apos}s progressive forces. Feminists divided among many camps - Communists, Conservatives, Liberals, Progressives, and proposed women{apos}s parties. Distrustful of partisanship, Nellie always opposed a women{apos}s party. Labour unrest grew as prices rose and jobs disappeared. Once again she again came into conflict with radical reformers, such as J. S. Woodsworth, who championed the Winnipeg General Strike of 1919. A liberal, she was convinced that education and good will were sufficient, and revolution unnecessary, to usher in equality. Her sympathy for workers never stretched to include direct action. Strikes had their place but reform depended on working within the political system.

Nellie, who had supported suffrage-minded Liberals in elections in both Manitoba and Alberta, became a Liberal MLA in 1921 for one of Edmonton{apos}s five seats. The contest was marked by the unprecedented entry of eight female candidates. The progressive-minded United Farmers of Alberta formed the government and the Liberals were reduced to the opposition. In the legislature, Nellie regularly acted as an independent. As she said, {d-0}I believed that we were the executive of the people and should bring our best judgement to bear on every question, irrespective of party ties.{d-1} On women{apos}s issues she joined forces with cabinet member Mary Irene Parlby [Marryat*]. They agreed on the need for travelling libraries, medical and dental clinics, public-health nurses, birth control, and eugenic legislation to limit the fertility of the mentally unfit. Nellie{apos}s hopes for a revitalized community were also voiced in new publications: The beauty of Martha (1923), When Christmas crossed {d-0}The Peace{d-1} (1923), and All we like sheep ... (1926).

Nellie nonetheless remained an activist. She joined the fight led by Emily Murphy for the appointment of women to Canada{apos}s Senate. In 1927, along with Murphy, Irene Parlby, former Alberta MLA Louise McKinney [Crummy*], and National Council of Women of Canada vice-president Henrietta Louise Edwards [Muir*], she asked if {d-0}qualified persons,{d-1} in the section of the British North America Act dealing with appointment, included women. The following year the Supreme Court of Canada declared that women were not persons and hence not eligible, but the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council ruled favourably in October 1929 on the appeal of the Famous Five, as Nellie and the others became known.

Church work also remained important. In 1921 she became the first woman sent by the Methodist Church of Canada to the Ecumenical Conference in London, England. Membership in the United Church of Canada (created by the union of Methodist, Presbyterian, and Congregational churches in 1925) included a struggle for female ordination, eventually realized in 1936. After serving as the first female member of the board of governors of the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation from 1936 to 1942, the westerner challenged her church to experiment with radio, {d-0}the greatest university.{d-1} The uncertain prospects of continuing peace during the inter-war years kept her attentive to international events and movements, including the Women{apos}s Guild of Empire in England, the Oxford Group, and Moral Re-armament. During that period Leaves from Lantern Lane (1936) and More leaves from Lantern Lane (1937) underlined her interest in world affairs, her commitment to women{apos}s rights and social reform, and her hostility to apathy and corruption.

The McClungs had moved in 1932 to Victoria, in Wesley{apos}s final transfer. He retired a year later and in 1935 they bought a small farm nearby, which they christened Lantern Lane. Even then Nellie remained busy. Appointed a Canadian delegate to the League of Nations in 1938, she sat on the Fifth Committee addressing social issues, especially those concerned with women and children. During World War II, she ruffled many sensibilities by opposing the internment of Japanese Canadians. In 1945 she published The stream runs fast, her last book. She died on 1 Sept. 1951 at age 77 and was buried in Victoria{apos}s Royal Oak Burial Park Cemetery.

Nellie L. McClung has received significant public and critical recognition. In 1938 Prime Minister King honoured the Famous Five with a plaque outside the Canadian Senate. A postage stamp featuring McClung{apos}s picture marked her 100th birthday in 1973 and two years later her Manitou residence received commemorative recognition. On 18 Oct. 1999, the 70th anniversary of the final judgement in the persons case, bronze statues of McClung, Edwards, Parlby, Murphy, and McKinney were unveiled in Calgary{apos}s Olympic Plaza. Replicas were placed on Parliament Hill in October 2000, the first sculptures of Canadian women to appear there. Her written work, 17 books and numerous stories and articles in magazines and newspapers, achieved much popularity during her lifetime but was also criticized as didactic. In response, she asserted in her autobiography that {d-0}I have never worried about my art. I have written as clearly as I could, never idly or dishonestly, and if some of my stories are ... sermons in disguise, my earnest hope is that the disguise did not obscure the sermon.{d-1} Post-suffrage commentary placed the charismatic McClung favourably within the history of the expansion of democracy and the curbing of male privilege. Modern analysis is more measured. Reappraisals cast her as a forerunner to modern Canadian authors such as Jean Margaret Laurence [Wemyss*], but many scholars now find her ideology insufficiently inclusive, given her assumption of Anglo-Celtic and middle-class leadership, her blind spots about native and non-British peoples, her sympathy for eugenics, and her Christian maternalism. Her contribution to a wide range of important causes and a literary legacy that conveys a generous spirit nevertheless continue to make Nellie L. McClung the most famous of Canada{apos}s suffrage generation.

Nellie Letitia McClung{apos}s Clearing in the west: my own story (Toronto, 1935) and The stream runs fast: my own story (Toronto, 1945) have been combined into a single volume, Nellie McClung, the complete autobiography ..., ed. Veronica Strong-Boag and M. L. Rosa (Peterborough, Ont., 2003). Aside from her autobiographical works, McClung was a prolific author in other genres, mainly novels and short stories. Some of her other works include: Sowing seeds in Danny (New York, 1908), The second chance (Toronto, 1910), The Black Creek Stopping-House and other stories (Toronto, 1912), In times like these (Toronto, 1915), The next of kin: those who wait and wonder (Toronto, 1917), Three times and out, told by Private Simmons (Toronto, 1918), The beauty of Martha (London, 1923), When Christmas crossed {d-0}The Peace{d-1} (Toronto, 1923), Painted fires (Toronto, 1925), All we like sheep and other stories (Toronto, 1926), Be good to yourself: a book of short stories (Toronto, 1930), Flowers for the living: a book of short stories (Toronto, 1931), Leaves from Lantern Lane (Toronto, 1936), and More leaves from Lantern Lane (Toronto, 1937). McClung{apos}s Purple Springs (Toronto, 1921) was reissued in the same city in 1992 with an introduction by R. R. Warne. Another new edition of her work, edited and introduced by M. I. Davis, is Stories subversive: through the field with gloves off - short fiction by Nellie L. McClung ([Ottawa], 1996).

Unfortunately, McClung{apos}s papers are quite limited and largely concerned with her literary career and the reminiscences of others. The three significant collections are: B.C. Arch. (Victoria), MS-0010; Univ. of Victoria Libraries, Special Coll., SC263; and Library and Arch. Canada (Ottawa), R4200-0-9.

H. M. Buss, Mapping our selves: Canadian women{apos}s autobiography in English (Montreal and Kingston, Ont., 1993). C. L. Cleverdon, The woman suffrage movement in Canada, intro. Ramsay Cook (2nd ed., Toronto, 1974). Janice Fiamengo, {d-0}A legacy of ambivalence: responses to Nellie McClung,{d-1} in Rethinking Canada: the promise of women{apos}s history, ed. Veronica Strong-Boag et al. (4th ed., Toronto, 2002), 149-63; {d-0}Rediscovering our foremothers again: the racial ideas of Canada{apos}s early feminists, 1885-1945,{d-1} Essays on Canadian Writing (Toronto), 75 (winter 2002): 85-117. M. E. Hallett and M. I. Davis, Firing the heather: the life and times of Nellie McClung (Saskatoon, 1993). C. S. Savage, Our Nell: a scrapbook biography of Nellie L. McClung (Saskatoon, 1979). Veronica Strong-Boag, {d-0}Ever a crusader: Nellie McClung, first-wave feminist,{d-1} in Rethinking Canada: the promise of women{apos}s history, ed. Veronica Strong-Boag and A. C. Fellman (3rd ed., Toronto, 1997), 271-84. Veronica Strong-Boag and Carole Gerson, Paddling her own canoe: the times and texts of E. Pauline Johnson (Tekahionwake) (Toronto, 2000). R. R. Warne, Literature as pulpit: the Christian social activism of Nellie L. McClung (Waterloo, Ont., 1993).

Northrop Frye is one of the few 20th-century literary critics in the English-speaking world whose name is likely to last. From the beginning, he wrote with authority and a voice of his own - crisp, witty, aphoristic. ({d-0}Good books may instruct, but bad ones are more likely to inspire,{d-1} he told a Modern Language Association audience in 1987.) He {d-0}is certainly the finest prose writer among modern critics,{d-1} said British critic Frank Kermode in the 1980s. {d-0}He has the expository force and some of the wit of Shaw.{d-1} Frye had no patience with sloth or pretentiousness, especially in the arts or in criticism, where a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. He made his reputation with his first two books, published in 1947 and 1957, to which he eventually added 19 more. The standard bibliographies also list 15 books edited, as well as some 300 essays and book chapters, exclusive of reviews and interviews. Yet such quantity in itself indicates little of the reason for Frye{apos}s eminence. It is the rigour and comprehensiveness of his judgements and critical structures, his ability to go to the heart of an argument and reshape it from within, his gift for clarifying perennial literary and other problems by mapping lines of thought and feeling, his encyclopedic range of exact knowledge. Governing all his formidable intelligence was a passionate commitment to his vocation and to the arts.

One reason for this powerful intelligence was simply that Frye took art seriously, including verbal art. He used words in a way that chastens most writers and speakers; that is, with the precision of a good poet. Logic, grammar, and rhetoric - he liked this old division of verbal knowledge - dance in harmony in his work. Time and again, he challenged his readers to examine their terms: {d-0}literature,{d-1} {d-0}metaphor,{d-1} {d-0}thinking,{d-1} {d-0}Canadian identity,{d-1} {d-0}Canadian unity.{d-1} He knew the great power of words and especially that of metaphor, buried or above ground, in shaping intellectual and emotional responses. Because of this power, knowledge of the outstanding wordsmiths is crucial, a conviction that shaped Frye{apos}s views on education. Literature for him was a focus of energy: {d-0}I think of literature as a specific field of imaginative activity,{d-1} he told an audience at Smith College in Massachusetts in 1985, {d-0}but the metaphor of {s-0}field{s-1-unknown} I have in mind is something like a magnetic field, a focus of energy, not a farmer{apos}s field with a fence around it.{d-1}

On his father{apos}s side, Northrop Frye (he always used his second given name, abbreviated to {d-0}Norrie{d-1} by his friends) was said to have had a Puritan ancestor who emigrated from Britain to New England in the 1630s. His mother{apos}s father, a Methodist clergyman, was intensely proud of his loyalist heritage. Herman Frye and Cassie Howard had two children before Northrop, a son, Eraytus Howard, born in 1899, and a daughter, Vera Victoria, who followed a year and a half later. (A third was stillborn or died at birth.) Herman worked as a clerk for hardware firms in Massachusetts and in Sherbrooke before attempting to establish his own business in 1915.

Frye{apos}s brother enlisted during World War I, only to be killed, aged 19, at Amiens, France, in August 1918, some three months before the end of the war. The death cast a pall over his parents. Howard had been an all-round student, outgoing and athletic. As a child, Northrop was conscious that he was different from his idealized older brother: {d-0}my mother{apos}s feeling that she had only one son and that I was a second-rate substitute for him ... may have affected me in some ways.{d-1} Shy, physically awkward, and short-sighted, he took readily to books. Cassie Frye taught all her children to read when they were young, and Northrop could do so at age three. He had a natural talent for reading, consuming books omnivorously as he grew up, remembering precisely what he read, and thinking about it. He also discovered before long that he had a natural wit, a fine defence for a quiet youngster uninterested in sports.

Within a year of his older son{apos}s death, Herman Frye{apos}s business collapsed, and he dissolved it. He then became a commercial salesman, and the family was forced to move several times, eventually settling in Moncton, N.B. There Northrop was raised from age eight and through high school. His real education, however, came from his mother, who managed to keep the family piano and books, even in hard times. She was a firm Methodist, and Frye was well grounded in the Bible; it was she who encouraged him to read widely. His sister paid for piano lessons with, as it happened, an outstanding teacher, organist George Ross, and he remained devoted to music all his life.

Frye{apos}s high school record was good but not stellar, in part because he was simply bored. On graduation, he won the prize of free secretarial training and accepted it, calculating that he could always earn money through office work. In fact, he became good enough to be sent to a national typing competition in Toronto in April 1929, where he won second prize in the novice class. In September that year Frye acted on his decision to enter Victoria College at the University of Toronto, counting on his office skills to support him. He enrolled, after a probationary period, in honours English and philosophy, and for the first time found himself in a congenial community where he was accepted and his abilities appreciated. His gratitude was lifelong.

Summer jobs and scholarships, as well as strict budgeting, maintained Frye financially during the Great Depression, and he received his BA in 1933. Until the last moment, he doubted that he could afford to return to university for graduate work, but with assistance, he was able to enter Emmanuel, the theological college associated with Victoria, which had been established by the United Church of Canada after the union of Methodists with Congregationalists and many Presbyterians in 1925. He fulfilled his duties as a student minister for the summer of 1934 but soon realized, if he had any doubts, that congregational work was not his true vocation. Some letters show a very unhappy fledgling clergyman indeed. While he liked the people (or a few of them) on his mission field in depression-stricken, drought-ravaged Saskatchewan, he did not like {d-0}all these things foisted upon them,{d-1} which he described as {d-0}trash for the arts, shibboleths and fetishes for religion.{d-1} The tribulations with his horse, his only transportation, sound like a Marx Brothers movie. As for windstorms, the {d-0}soil wasn{apos}t so bad: it was dodging rocks and chickens and little children and back-houses that got me nervous.{d-1} Above all, he desperately missed his fiancée.

Meanwhile, Helen was pursuing her profession, which also meant separations; talented in the visual arts, she trained at the National Gallery of Canada in Ottawa and the Art Gallery of Toronto, as well as spending time at the Courtauld Institute of Art in London. Twice during their long engagement, she became pregnant, not by intention. The abortion that ended the second pregnancy developed complications, and this while Frye was absent in Oxford. Helen{apos}s mother was her chief support at home. A one-year appointment in English at Victoria College finally allowed the young couple to marry in the summer of 1937. Frye returned to Merton the following year; he graduated as the only first in his subject at the college that year and would eventually receive an Oxford MA. In 1939 he joined the Department of English at Victoria College, arriving with a fat manuscript on Blake under his arm on the day the pact between the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany was signed. He would remain there for the rest of his life.

World War II affected both the Fryes, but especially Helen. She gave up her job at the Art Gallery of Toronto in 1941, when priorities at the gallery changed, and found other, less congenial work. But she continued as art editor on the country{apos}s leading left-wing journal, the Canadian Forum (Toronto), where all work was unpaid. Frye had been steadily reviewing there since his graduate-school days, originally at Herbert Davis{apos}s invitation; he served as literary editor in 1947-48 and managing editor from 1948 to 1950 and remained on the board until 1956. Both he and Helen were sympathetic to the Co-operative Commonwealth Federation, the forerunner of the New Democratic Party. Among Frye{apos}s Forum contributions was a review in 1941 of the Charlie Chaplin movie The great dictator, titled {d-0}The great Charlie.{d-1} In 1944 Helen{apos}s brother, Harold, was killed on a bombing raid over Germany. She took the death hard. At the war{apos}s end, she used her savings as a down payment on the Fryes{s-1-unknown} first and only house, in the Moore Park area of Toronto, which they bought complete with a large mortgage. By this time Frye finally felt released enough to rework his Blake material once again.

His output had begun slowly, and all his life he would worry about his {d-0}inertia,{d-1} but as with the lexicographer and critic Samuel Johnson, the worry acted as a spur, and the achievements belie it. Completion of the much-rewritten, unwieldy, and overlong Blake manuscript was delayed by its very originality, by the myriad responsibilities of a beginning teacher, and by other writing, including some attempted fiction. Fortunately, the reader for Princeton University Press, Carlos Baker, recognized its potential and suggested how it might be better shaped, to Frye{apos}s lasting gratitude. The result was Fearful symmetry: a study of William Blake (1947), a rereading of the poet whose early effect on Frye had had the force of a revelation.

The origins of Fearful symmetry can be traced back to his teenage years in Moncton. There one day, {d-0}suddenly that whole shitty and smelly garment [of fundamentalist teaching I had all my life] just dropped off into the sewers and stayed there. It was like the Bunyan feeling, about the burden of sin falling off his back, only with me it was a burden of anxiety.{d-1} Some ten years later Frye was writing a graduate paper on Blake{apos}s difficult poem Milton: {d-0}It was around three in the morning when suddenly the universe just broke open, and I{apos}ve never been, as they say, the same since.... Just the feeling of an enormous number of things making sense that had been scattered and unrelated before. In other words, it was a mythological frame taking hold.{d-1} Blake{apos}s work is grounded in the Bible, read in a radical, strongly metaphorical, and mythical way. Through the poet{apos}s lens, Frye could repossess his own religious roots and also make sense of his literary reading. In Fearful symmetry he worked from two premises: first, that Blake{apos}s work, both his much-loved lyrics such as Songs of innocence and of experience and his neglected, difficult prophetic books, should be read as a whole; second, {d-0}that as all other poets are judged in relation to their own time, so should Blake be placed in his historical and cultural context.{d-1} Much later, rereading the book, Frye observed {d-0}how much the rise of Nazism was on my mind and how terrified I was by the clarity with which Blake saw things ... coming.{d-1}

The book had an immediate and lasting impact. Some reacted to it fervently. {d-0}Fearful Symmetry ... ravished my heart away,{d-1} American literary critic Harold Bloom later said. {d-0}I must have read it a hundred times between 1947 and 1950.{d-1} British poet and critic Edith Sitwell admired it greatly, finding in it, in the words of Nicholas Halmi, {d-0}an attractive and sustainable understanding of Christianity.{d-1} Others, including Kermode, were more detached, chiefly because they found it hard to separate Frye{apos}s voice from Blake{apos}s. The book influenced Blake studies profoundly, even among readers who were not drawn to the main arguments about mythical criticism. Frye rescued Blake{apos}s long prophetic books as poetry, finding a {d-0}grammar of symbolism{d-1} within them and presenting the author{apos}s thought as a coherent whole. The Fryes{s-1-unknown} life after Fearful symmetry changed markedly. He now received regular offers to lecture or teach courses elsewhere, including Harvard University, where he was looked over with a view to being hired. Despite the attraction, he remained in Toronto, feeling at home there.

If Fearful symmetry established Frye{apos}s reputation in its field, and occasionally beyond, his masterpiece, Anatomy of criticism: four essays (Princeton, 1957), made him famous. After his work on Blake, he had planned a book on the Renaissance poet Edmund Spenser but found that he could not proceed without re-examining his own critical principles and methods. The result took ten years and much rewriting. He first called the book {d-0}Structural poetics,{d-1} a title that might have made his subject clearer (the structure of the discipline of poetics) but might also have confused readers by suggesting a link with the structuralists. The French philosopher Paul Ricœur argues persuasively in a 1983 essay that Frye{apos}s work is different in kind from structuralist thought. The latter uses philosophical categories abstracted from the particulars of literary works. Frye{apos}s approach was different. As Ricœur saw, Frye was attempting to set out a typology for literature analogous to the taxonomies that are found in the biological sciences.

Frye intended Anatomy of criticism to belong {d-0}to the systematic study of the formal causes of art.{d-1} Presumably he had in mind Aristotle{apos}s three other causes (the material, the efficient, or agency, and the final, or teleological). He distinguishes four areas of criticism and devotes one essay to each. Preceding the essays is a {d-0}Polemical introduction,{d-1} and a {d-0}Tentative conclusion{d-1} follows. The four areas are the historical, the ethical, the archetypal, and the rhetorical. By historical criticism, Frye does not mean explaining literature chiefly as the result of empires, wars, or even social history. Historical criticism here is concerned with the stories of literary works, mapped according to the power of action in the chief character in a work of fiction or in the attitude of the writer in thematic literature.

The core of Anatomy of criticism is often judged to be the second essay, where Frye examines verbal patterning from its smallest unit, the single letter, all the way to the widest sense of words, the anagogic. Ethical criticism concerns the characterization or ethos of literary works: first through literal and descriptive reading, then through formal reading, through mythical or archetypal reading, and finally through anagogic reading. By {d-0}literal,{d-1} Frye means verbal motifs, something close to the letters of the alphabet, the litterae, of writing. By {d-0}descriptive,{d-1} he refers to what is usually called the {d-0}literal{d-1} meaning, where we derive understanding from an outside context, not an inner verbal motif. These two kinds of reading take place simultaneously. Formal criticism looks at imagery, allegory, and more. Mythical reading gradually identifies repeated image clusters and stories, which Frye calls archetypes. (He later said that he took the word {d-0}archetype,{d-1} not from the psychologist Carl Jung, as is sometimes assumed, but from a footnote in James Beattie{apos}s The minstrel, published in parts between 1771 and 1774.) By {d-0}anagogic,{d-1} he refers not only to the medieval mystical interpretation of a text but also to a visionary literary universe - a sense that possessed Blake. (A poem by Canadian poet and critic Jay Macpherson in The boatman, dedicated to Northrop and Helen, is titled {d-0}The anagogic man,{d-1} who is often identified with Frye.)

The fourth essay, on rhetorical criticism, focuses on a theory of genres, those kinds of literature that we begin learning with nursery rhymes and without which we could not read at all. (Children recognize early that Lewis Carroll{apos}s Alice in wonderland is not realistic fiction.) Frye suggests that genre is based on the relation of the writer to his or her audience, a sense that is apparent, for example, in the differences in output between an ancient epic poet, a dramatist, and a modern novelist. The essay proposes four classes of prose fiction (defined as {d-0}any work of literary art ... in prose{d-1}): the novel, confession, anatomy, and romance. Anatomy is an older form, known from Robert Burton{apos}s The anatomy of melancholy (1621), which Frye later called one of his favourite books: {d-0}here was a man writing with tremendous erudition and tremendous exuberance. The fact that he{apos}d referred to about six hundred books per page practically never blotted his sense of humor.{d-1}

While this final essay is the most loosely structured of the four, it contains much suggestive material. Anatomy of criticism is so richly packed that a sentence or two can be expanded into an article or book. Frye did just this when in 1976 he wrote {d-0}Charms and riddles,{d-1} a fascinating 25-page piece implicit in a few paragraphs from the fourth essay.

Throughout his work, Frye was intrigued by the {d-0}role of convention in literature.{d-1} A convention may be small, like the 14-line structure of a sonnet, or more encompassing, such as the topoi (common themes or formulas) of medieval literature. {d-0}When the convention is big enough to include the entire work,{d-1} he said in his 1985 Smith lecture, {d-0}we call it a genre.{d-1} A genre {d-0}indicates what the work is, and it suggests the context of the work, by placing it within a number of other works like it.{d-1} The sections of any large bookstore indicate how genre works. {d-0}I paid some attention to the question of genres{d-1} in Anatomy of criticism, Frye added, {d-0}because I felt that lack of careful attention in that area made for many confusions and illiterate critical judgments.{d-1} Combating such confusions and misjudgements had the force of a quest for him.

In 1965 the English Institute honoured Frye by making Anatomy of criticism the subject of one of its conferences in New York. Angus Fletcher, William K. Wimsatt, and Geoffrey H. Hartman presented the three main papers, and they remain some of the best discussions of his work, though Wimsatt{apos}s is unsympathetic. (Nonetheless, Frye contributed a fine essay, {d-0}Wallace Stevens and the variation form,{d-1} to the 1973 Festschrift for Wimsatt.) Frye{apos}s compact reply to the presentations, {d-0}Reflections in a mirror,{d-1} also continues to be one of his best commentaries on his work. The essays, collected in Northrop Frye in modern criticism, and Murray Krieger{apos}s introduction show how Frye then dominated the critical scene in North America. They also demonstrate how excited scholars were about his work, whether they applauded it, opposed it, or something between; it was impossible to ignore him. By 1978 the communications theorist Herbert Marshall McLuhan* could say: {d-0}Norrie is not struggling for his place in the sun. He is the sun.{d-1}

Frye expected that his structures would be modified, or so he said. Near the end of the introduction to Anatomy of criticism, he calls them {d-0}mere scaffolding, to be knocked away when the building is in better shape.{d-1} In 1965 he described the Anatomy as {d-0}schematic{d-1} rather than {d-0}primarily systematic.{d-1} He added that it was meant as {d-0}a guide to practical criticism,{d-1} and he was gratified by Hartman{apos}s comment that {d-0}it works; it is teachable.{d-1} Frank Kermode in the 1980s recalled, {d-0}I once said ... that, if necessary, he will depart from the major systematic arrangements of the Anatomy and make up new ones. I suggested that really they are a kind of memory theatre, just mnemonic aids. He wrote me a rather snappy letter saying {s-0}Well of course they are: what do you think?{s-1-unknown}{d-1}

Some arguments of Anatomy of criticism have proved fruitful for critics. Others have been disputed, quite apart from disagreements with the central premises. A number have engendered radically revised arguments, most prominently by Harold Bloom, who by his own testimony comes {d-0}out of Frye{d-1} but is a Jewish Gnostic. Some - for example, on metaphor - have still to make their full mark. Frye argued that we should pay attention to exactly how the A and B of metaphor are joined, and he offered five different patterns. But to this day, critics mostly focus on the two main elements of a metaphor, not their ways of being linked.

Parts of Frye{apos}s {d-0}Polemical introduction{d-1} proved controversial, especially when read carelessly. He argued that criticism was neither an exercise in taste nor a direct expression of a personal experience of literature. Criticism treats literary works using a {d-0}systematic structure of knowledge{d-1} as is the case with the sciences. The critic may help to develop taste and expand experience, but he or she has no business telling readers what to like or dislike. An incommunicable personal experience lies at the centre of criticism, which {d-0}comes out of it but cannot be built on it.{d-1} Nor do value judgements belong in literary criticism. {d-0}Every deliberately constructed hierarchy of values in literature known to me is based on a concealed social, moral, or intellectual analogy.{d-1} As the critic grows, it will become clear that some writers are {d-0}more rewarding and suggestive to work with{d-1} than others.

No fewer than four books appeared in 1963, three primarily literary and the fourth on literature and society. The well-tempered critic (Bloomington, Ind.) treats the three conventional levels of style (low, middle, and high), together with kinds of diction. A short commissioned work, T. S. Eliot (Edinburgh), is astute about Eliot{apos}s poetry but unsympathetic towards his high Anglicanism and conservative politics. Frye{apos}s Methodist background, his liberalism, and his chafing at Eliot{apos}s recent dominance of Anglo-American criticism all lie behind this position. Fables of identity: studies in poetic mythology (New York) gathers 16 earlier essays, including a rather insistently mythic one on Milton{apos}s Lycidas and another in which Frye makes a distinction between the {d-0}imaginative{d-1} and the {d-0}imaginary,{d-1} a differentiation that unfortunately did not stick. He would go on to publish four more collections: The stubborn structure: essays on criticism and society (Ithaca, N.Y., 1970), The bush garden: essays on the Canadian imagination (Toronto, 1971), Spiritus mundi: essays on literature, myth, and society (Bloomington, 1976), and Divisions on a ground: essays on Canadian culture (Toronto, 1982). The word {d-0}essay,{d-1} which also governs the body of the Anatomy, runs like a refrain through these titles. It was a congenial form for Frye, involving its etymological sense of {d-0}trying out.{d-1}

The educated imagination (Toronto, 1963), delivered as six radio talks in the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation{apos}s Massey Lectures series the previous year, provides a 68-page introduction to Frye{apos}s thinking about literature and society, and it remains a favourite with readers. Imagination, he posited, gives us a better or worse world than the one we inhabit - two dreams, one of them wish-fulfilment and the other anxiety. He advocated the study in schools of both biblical and classical stories or myths to help us understand the stories and myths offered by political, commercial, and other persuaders.

Frye published simultaneously in both literary and social criticism until the end of his life. This twofold vocation is implicit in Anatomy of criticism, where the two spheres are interdependent. {d-0}No discussion of beauty can confine itself to the formal relations of the isolated work of art; it must consider, too, the participation of the work of art in the vision of the goal of social effort.{d-1} Equally, as he wrote in 1986 in an appreciative review of the deconstructionist Paul de Man, {d-0}All dominant ideologies are structures of authority, and, unless they are merely tyrannies enforced by terror, they are aesthetic structures as well.{d-1} An ideology usually assumes that it trumps all other views in a given discussion, but aesthetic analysis can shed unexpected light.

Frye{apos}s two critical tendencies were recognized early. In 1965 Geoffrey Hartman called them {d-0}scientism{d-1} and {d-0}evangelism.{d-1} Frye commented that {d-0}scientific{d-1} was his own word but perhaps the wrong one. ({d-0}What if criticism is a science as well as an art?{d-1} he wrote in the Anatomy.) It certainly caused him trouble, though not from anyone who read the full context. The term {d-0}evangelism{d-1} was not his, but it was the right one, he thought. By {d-0}evangelism,{d-1} Frye and Hartman simply meant engagement, as distinct from critical detachment, the kind of engagement implicit in the sentence about the discussion of beauty quoted above from Anatomy of criticism.

Northrop Frye practised what he preached. He made room for advisory and administrative work: as a long-time member of the Canadian Radio-Television Commission (later the Canadian Radio-television and Telecommunications Commission), as president of the Modern Language Association, as principal of Victoria College between 1959 and 1966, and in many another time-consuming task. He survived in part thanks to the able president of Victoria, Arthur Bruce Barbour Moore, who agreed that Frye{apos}s writing came first. (Frye once commented that {d-0}my writing isn{apos}t something I run. It runs me.{d-1}) He later confessed that he skimped on some administrative jobs at the college, to say nothing of sleep.

{d-0}It is curious,{d-1} the critic Richard Ellmann wrote, when reviewing The morality of scholarship (Ithaca, 1967), by Frye, Stuart Hampshire, and Conor Cruise O{apos}Brien, {d-0}that of all these scholar-teachers only Mr. Frye establishes the rationale of the classroom.{d-1} In his writings and interviews Frye emphasized {d-0}the fact that there are differences in levels of reading and writing as there are in mathematics between short division and integral calculus.{d-1} He maintained that the basics in school {d-0}are not bodies of knowledge. They are skills.{d-1} Using words, he argued, is a skill that requires teaching and practice, whether we train ourselves or have help. It is fundamental for society, since so much of what we hear in public consists of clichés or {d-0}verbal formulas that have no thought behind them.{d-1} Therefore the teaching of humanities is {d-0}a militant job.{d-1} Teachers must engage in {d-0}a fight to help the student confront and reject the verbal formulas and stock responses, to convert passive acceptance into active, constructive power. It is a fight against illiteracy and for the maturation of the mental process, for the development of skills which once acquired never become obsolete.{d-1} Schools achieve this goal if they stimulate a love of learning, for then students can develop on their own. Frye also saw that most students need to be taught {d-0}very carefully and patiently, that there is no such thing as an inarticulate idea waiting to have the right words wrapped around it.... ideas do not exist until they have been incorporated into words. Until that point you don{apos}t know whether you are pregnant or just have gas on the stomach.{d-1} He was especially drawn to poetry because good poetry is at the centre of literary experience, the gold standard for our use of words.

As his literary output continued after 1963, he turned increasingly to the form he found most congenial, the romance. He published A natural perspective: the development of Shakespearean comedy and romance (New York) in 1965, and his public lectures as the Charles Eliot Norton Professor of Poetry at Harvard for 1974-75 are titled The secular scripture: a study of the structure of romance (Cambridge, Mass., 1976). Once more, a briefly stated insight in Anatomy of Criticism had grown and blossomed. The return of Eden: five essays on Milton{apos}s epics (Toronto, 1965) analyses the cyclic movement in Paradise lost and Paradise regained; an exploration of Shakespearean tragedy followed two years later. While these subjects can readily be linked to Anatomy of criticism, some of Frye{apos}s essays, notably in The stubborn structure, reveal his surprising scope. {d-0}Dickens and the comedy of humours{d-1} treats a novelist, not a poet, and {d-0}The problem of spiritual authority in the nineteenth century{d-1} shows how astute he could be about thinkers such as Thomas Carlyle, John Stuart Mill, John Henry Newman, and Matthew Arnold.

Although he could have moved to virtually any university he chose after 1957, Frye remained based in Canada. {d-0}I found, as I grew older, that my roots were going deeper and deeper into the Canadian society and that I couldn{apos}t really pull out of that.{d-1} Both religious and political roots - his United Church affiliation and his CCF-NDP sympathies - were uniquely Canadian. From the start of his career he paid attention to Canadian cultural activities, as is clear from the 741-page collection Northrop Frye on Canada, published posthumously in Toronto in 2003. Frye had been asked in 1950 to take responsibility for the University of Toronto Quarterly{apos}s annual review of Canadian poetry in English, and he did so for ten years. In 1971 he assembled these reviews, along with nine essays, in The bush garden. His reviews are sympathetic to serious work and impatient with sloppy poems. While they were influential, other pieces in the volume garnered more attention. His emphasis on the terror of the Canadian wild was much disputed, and his phrase {d-0}garrison mentality{d-1} gained wide notoriety, sometimes outside its historical context, since Frye analyses both the advantages and the disadvantages of such an outlook. Perhaps best known is his reframing of the question of Canadian identity: {d-0}It is less perplexed by the question {s-0}Who am I?{s-1-unknown} than by some such riddle as {s-0}Where is here?{s-1-unknown}{d-1} The paradox is telling and goes on generating discussion.

Most important was Frye{apos}s sense of how Canada is constituted nationally, a perception that evolved throughout his life, while remaining true to his first experiences. He summed it up in his preface:

As a student going to the University of Toronto, I would take the train to Montreal, sitting up overnight in the coach, and looking forward to the moment in the early morning when the train came into Levis, on the south side of the St. Lawrence, and the great fortress of Quebec loomed out of the bleak dawn mists.... Here was one of the imaginative and emotional centres of my own country and my own people, yet a people with whom I found it difficult to identify, what was different being not so much language as a cultural memory. But the effort of making the identification was crucial: it helped me to see that a sense of unity is the opposite of a sense of uniformity. Uniformity, where everyone {d-0}belongs,{d-1} uses the same clichés, thinks alike and behaves alike, produces a society which seems comfortable at first but is totally lacking in human dignity. Real unity tolerates dissent and rejoices in variety of outlook and tradition.

Earlier in the preface to The bush garden he had observed: {d-0}The tension between this political sense of unity and the imaginative sense of locality is the essence of whatever the word {s-0}Canadian{s-1-unknown} means. Once the tension is given up, and the two elements of unity and identity are confused or assimilated to each other, we get the two endemic diseases of Canadian life. Assimilating identity to unity produces the empty gestures of cultural nationalism; assimilating unity to identity produces the kind of provincial isolation which is now called separatism.{d-1} The bush garden was published a year after the October crisis [see Pierre Elliott TRUDEAU].

Frye took his writing on Canadian matters as seriously as the rest of his work. His last public lecture, {d-0}The cultural development of Canada,{d-1} given in October 1990, usefully distinguishes three aspects of the word {d-0}culture{d-1}: lifestyle, a shared heritage of memories and customs, and {d-0}what is genuinely created in a society,{d-1} a wide category that includes architecture and science. Culture is more simply {d-0}the indestructible core of a human society, so far as it is a human society and not a mere aggregate of atoms in a human mass.{d-1} He saw the controversy over the Meech Lake Accord [see Trudeau] as the result of a cultural, not political, imbalance: {d-0}French-speaking Canada is a cultural reality of the highest importance: {s-0}Quebec{s-1-unknown} is a province like other provinces.{d-1} This packed essay ends with the {d-0}boundary-without-walls aspect of culture,{d-1} what we learn from Canada and from elsewhere in museums, art galleries, and universities. {d-0}Society must have loyalty, but in a democracy there are no uncritical loyalties.{d-1}

From 1968, when Prime Minister Lester Bowles Pearson* appointed him to the Canadian Radio-Television Commission, until he left in 1977, Frye worked hard in all areas of the commission{apos}s mandate to regulate broadcasting in Canada. Its first chair, Pierre Juneau, especially valued him in a research capacity; he could also make lucid judgements and produce reports on everyday matters with astonishing rapidity. Little did some of those who appeared before the commission know what they were facing. The anecdote is still told about an executive who showed off his classical learning by quoting the Roman orator Junius; Frye observed drily that Junius was the pen name of an 18th-century Englishman.

In the last decade of his life Frye published two books on a subject that had increasingly engaged him, the Bible and literature. Much of the material in The great code: the Bible and literature (New York, 1982) and Words with power: being a second study of {d-0}the Bible and literature{d-1} (New York, 1990) is implicit in or scattered throughout his earlier writing. He described Creation and recreation (Toronto, 1980), for example, as {d-0}moving in on it [the subject]. If you{apos}re a knight about to kill a dragon, you better explore the territory first.{d-1} The two biblical books organize this material in a schematic form. If the many publications that grew out of Anatomy of criticism show how its critical structure works in practice while refining some of its schemata, the biblical books demonstrate how a Blakean world view might respond to the Christian Bible. They are, in a sense, the continuation of Fearful symmetry. (The title of The great code alludes to Blake: {d-0}The Old & New Testaments are the Great Code of Art.{d-1}) They also grew out of Frye{apos}s {d-0}famous {s-0}Bible{s-1-unknown} course,{d-1} as his former student Margaret Atwood called it, which he began teaching in the 1940s. To judge from the introduction, which avoids the wit and concentration of the Anatomy{apos}s {d-0}Polemical introduction,{d-1} Frye had in mind a more general audience and a somewhat different focus. In Anatomy of criticism, sacred writing, notably the Christian Bible, is examined in literary terms. As Ricœur saw, Frye did not allow literary and religious models to become mixed or confused with each other. In the biblical books he includes the function of scripture as a sacred text, making use of the concept of kerygma, the term employed in the Gospels for {d-0}message.{d-1}

Frye{apos}s biblical books yoke the Bible and literature (they do not, he stressed, consider the Bible as literature). Thus the first part of The great code treats the {d-0}order of words,{d-1} while the second presents the {d-0}order of types.{d-1} In a biblical context, {d-0}type{d-1} is a weighted word, signifying events, persons, and items in the Hebrew scriptures that find their antitypes or fulfilment in the New Testament. Biblical typology, as it had evolved, was highly schematic, which suited Frye{apos}s temperament. Knowledge of typology is certainly necessary in order to read much older literature, as well as to interpret paintings from the past and some great stained-glass windows. His desire was to make typology pertinent for the modern world by turning it into living symbol and internalizing it, much as Blake had done. His strategy is even more apparent in Words with power, which is also divided into two parts. The first treats literary matters, notably levels of reading. The second, {d-0}Variations on a theme,{d-1} discusses four variations: the mountain, the garden, the cave, and the furnace. Frye describes these chapters as {d-0}a series of essays on comparative mythology, organized around four primary concerns: the concern to make and create, the concern to love, the concern to sustain oneself and assimilate the environment,... and the concern to escape from slavery and restraint. Each essay relates these concerns to the Bible and to various themes in literature.{d-1} His last book, The double vision: language and meaning in religion (Toronto, 1991), published posthumously, acts as a coda to the two biblical works.

Response to the books was appreciative, especially from those who were already sympathetic to Frye{apos}s outlook and those who knew little of the subject. Others were less enthusiastic. It is, of course, the Christian Bible that is his focus, and some Jewish critics, whose Bible consists of the Hebrew Scriptures, found him less congenial, especially when Frye dealt with biblical typology. The Canadian poet and critic Eli Mandel asked, {d-0}Whose tradition?{d-1} and disliked the tone of kerygma, though he generously appreciated the full achievement. The biblical scholar Robert Alter provided a cogent and telling disagreement with Frye in 2004, working from a more orthodox Jewish perspective. Frye{apos}s Blakean outlook also differs from the traditional Christian one, as several critics have noted.

In the mid 1970s Helen Frye had sought advice from a psychiatrist about her increasing insomnia and anxiety. She was well enough to move to Cambridge, Mass., when her husband taught at Harvard in 1974-75, but by 1979 her humorous, intelligent, capable self was changing. She became more forgetful and sometimes resentful, and she stopped enjoying travel as she had for years. A diagnosis confirmed Alzheimer{apos}s disease, and Frye began to accommodate the household and his schedule to her condition.

In 1986 he planned a trip in Australia with Helen which would give her a holiday and himself a break after a month{apos}s lecturing in Sydney and elsewhere. Jane Widdicombe, his long-time secretary and now like a daughter to him, and her husband accompanied them. In Cairns, Helen was suddenly hospitalized with an embolism in the lungs, and she died a few days later. The shock to Frye was enormous. He became depressed, withdrew from social contact much more than usual, and seemed a shadow of his old self. Among those who alleviated his solitude were members of the class of 1933, with whom he and Helen had kept in touch over the years. One of these was Elizabeth Eedy Brown, now widowed. She and Frye had always been good friends, and they grew closer. They decided to marry in July 1988, and the change in Frye was immediate and reassuring.

Late in 1990 Frye was diagnosed with cancer and began treatment, but in January the following year he died of a heart attack. The loss of such a figure was widely felt. Margaret Atwood wrote the next day that {d-0}there are many people, including some who never knew him personally, who will feel orphaned by his death.{d-1}

Frye{apos}s honours over the years were many. The University of Toronto appointed him its first university professor in 1967. He was made a companion of the Order of Canada in 1972, and between 1969 and 1981 he became an honorary fellow or member of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, Merton College, Oxford, the British Academy, the American Philosophical Society, and the American Academy and Institute of Arts and Letters. Elected to the Royal Society of Canada in 1951, he received the society{apos}s Lorne Pierce Medal in 1958 and its Pierre Chauveau Medal in 1970. He was the recipient of the Molson Prize of the Canada Council for the Arts in 1970, the Royal Bank Award for Canadian Achievement in 1978, the Governor General{apos}s Award in non-fiction for 1986, and a Toronto Arts Award for lifetime achievement in 1987. He also held more than 30 honorary doctorates from universities and colleges around the world. He was appointed chancellor of Victoria in 1978, a position he held until his death.

Northrop Frye possessed one of the great analytic minds of his time. Even more markedly, he possessed an outstanding syncretic mind. He was Aristotelian in his delight in anatomy, understanding well that taxonomies are theories of order and not pigeonholes, and that all typologies and taxonomies are interpretive, a point emphasized by the biologist Stephen Jay Gould. Frye has been called Platonic in his sense of the visionary, though he was more precisely biblical, in the way that Blake was biblical - that is, he focused, not on theology or the scholar{apos}s knowledge of the Bible, but on its mythic force. His combination of taxonomy and the visionary was congenial to the 19th century, and he may have been one of the last great thinkers in a learned, liberal tradition with roots in that era.

Asked to sum up his views, Frye would say that the works of literature make up a {d-0}total order of words{d-1} and not simply an aggregate. If literature is simply an aggregate, where one work follows another, then some other order of things (historical, psychological, political, religious, philosophical) provides the framework or story inside which we place works of art, as well as the stories of our own lives. A writer does not function in this way, however, and critics cannot provide helpful patterns for reading literature without knowing in their bones the principles and history of a given art. Frye{apos}s move beyond this knowledge towards a {d-0}total order of words{d-1} akin to Blake{apos}s or the poet Stéphane Mallarmé{apos}s proved more controversial. But while critics argue about the implications of a {d-0}total order of words{d-1} or even an ideal order, there is no disagreement that criticism needs to keep its terms and its taxonomies clear, or that much public discussion of writing displays a distressingly low command of rhetoric.

In 1990 Frye ended an appreciative response to the American Society for Eighteenth-Century Studies as follows: {d-0}The way I begin a book is to write detached aphorisms in a notebook, and ninety-five percent of the work I do in completing a book is to fit these detached aphorisms together into a continuous narrative line.... it is possible that many of my readers tend to find their way back to the original aphoristic form, finding me more useful for detached insights than for total structures.{d-1} Some readers are drawn to Frye{apos}s entire patterning of a verbal universe. Others, as he well knew, prefer different, larger patterns or more tentative or even fractured ones, but continually find his work full of useful insights.

In 2000 even some of his admirers were troubled by the publication of his Late notebooks, in particular, the undated {d-0}Statement for the day of my death.{d-1} There Frye lists the ways in which other critics may have been superior to him and then adds, doubtless with some degree of irony, {d-0}I had genius. No one else in the field known to me had quite that.{d-1} Harold Bloom was one of those troubled. Nonetheless, writing a new foreword to Anatomy of criticism in the same year, he judged that {d-0}Frye{apos}s criticism will survive because it is serious, spiritual, and comprehensive, but not because it is systematic or a manifestation of genius.{d-1} Future scholars, {d-0}turning Frye{apos}s pages, will find copious precepts and examples to help sustain them.{d-1}

In addition to the works mentioned in the text, Herman Northrop Frye{apos}s major publications include Fools of time: studies in Shakespearean tragedy (Toronto, 1967); The modern century (Toronto, 1967); A study of English Romanticism (New York, 1968); The critical path: an essay on the social context of literary criticism (Bloomington, Ind., 1971); The myth of deliverance: reflections on Shakespeare{apos}s problem comedies (Toronto, 1983); and Myth and metaphor: selected essays, 1974-88, ed. R. D. Denham (Charlottesville, Va, 1990). His ideas about education were expressed in {d-0}Don{apos}t you think it{apos}s time to start thinking?,{d-1} Toronto Star, 25 Jan. 1986: M2 and his review of Paul de Man{apos}s The rhetoric of Romanticism appeared in {d-0}In the earth, or in the air?,{d-1} Times Literary Supplement (New York), 17 Jan. 1986: 51. A comprehensive list of Frye{apos}s published work can be found in R. D. Denham, Northrop Frye: a bibliography of his published writings, 1931-2004 (Emory, Va, 2004). Since his death, Frye{apos}s published and unpublished writings have been assembled in Collected works of Northrop Frye, gen. ed. J. M. Robson and A. A. Lee (27v. to date, Toronto, 1996- ). Volumes from this series of particular importance for this study were The correspondence of Northrop Frye and Helen Kemp, 1932-1939, ed. R. D. Denham (2v., 1996); Northrop Frye{apos}s late notebooks, 1982-1990: architecture of the spiritual world, ed. R. D. Denham (2v., 2000); The diaries of Northrop Frye, 1942-1955, ed. R. D. Denham (2001); and Northrop Frye on Canada, ed. Jean O{apos}Grady and David Staines (2003).

Most manuscript material is held in the Northrop Frye fonds, Victoria Univ., in the Univ. of Toronto, the finding aid for which is now online: Victoria Univ. Library, {d-0}Guide to the Northrop Frye papers{d-1}: http://library.vicu.utoronto.ca/special/F11fryefonds.htm (consulted 4 Dec. 2008). {d-0}Northrop Frye (1912-1991): About the collection-Related resources{d-1}: http://library.vicu.utoronto.ca/special/F11fryeintro.htm (consulted 4 Dec. 2008) provides a link to a list of about two thousand books annotated by Frye. The author has in her possession extensive files containing clippings, course notes, and teaching materials. Criticism in society, ed. Imre Salusinszky (New York, 1987), 26-42, contains interviews with Frye, Bloom, Kermode, and others.

Several works by Frye have been translated into French. In chronological order, they are: Le Siècle de l{apos}innovation: essai [translation of The modern century], trans. François Rinfret (Montréal, 1968); Anatomie de la critique [translation of Anatomy of criticism: four essays], trans. Guy Durand ([Paris], 1969); Pouvoirs de l{apos}imagination: essai [translation of The educated imagination], trans. Jean Simard (Montréal, 1969); Le Grand Code: la Bible et la littérature [translation of The great code: the Bible and literature], trans. Catherine Malamoud (Paris, 1984); La Parole souveraine: la Bible et la littérature II [translation of Words with power: being a second study of {d-0}the Bible and literature{d-1}], trans. Catherine Malamoud (Paris, 1994); L{apos}Écriture profane: essai sur la structure du romanesque [translation of The secular scripture: a study of the structure of romance], trans. Cornelius Crowley ([Belfort, France], 1998); Les Fous du temps: sur les tragédies de Shakespeare [translation of Fools of time: studies in Shakespearean tragedy], trans. Jean Mouchard ([Paris], 2002); Une perspective naturelle: sur les comédies romanesques de Shakespeare [translation of A natural perspective: the development of Shakespearean comedy and romance], trans. Simone Chambon and Anne Wicke ([Paris], 2002).

Margaret Atwood, {d-0}The great communicator,{d-1} Globe and Mail (Toronto), 24 Jan. 1991: C1. Louise Brown and Bill Schiller, {d-0}{s-0}Key to education{s-1-unknown} is love of learning,{d-1} Toronto Star, 10 May 1987: A1. New York Times, 25 Jan. 1991. Robert Alter, {d-0}Northrop Frye between archetype and typology,{d-1} in Frye and the Word: religious contexts in the writings of Northrop Frye, ed. Jeffery Donaldson and Alan Mendelson (Toronto, 2004), 137-50. John Ayre, Northrop Frye: a biography (Toronto, 1989). Harold Bloom, {d-0}Northrop Frye in retrospect,{d-1} in Northrop Frye, Anatomy of criticism: four essays (Princeton, N.J., 2000), vii-xi. R. D. Denham, Northrop Frye: an annotated bibliography of primary and secondary sources (Toronto, 1987). Eighteenth-Century Studies (Baltimore, Md), 24 (1990-91), Special issue (Northrop Frye and Eighteenth-Century Studies). Richard Ellmann, {d-0}Dissent and the Academy,{d-1} [rev. of The morality of scholarship, ed. Max Black], New York Review of Books (New York), 15 Feb. 1968: 8. Nicholas Halmi, {d-0}Northrop Frye{apos}s Fearful symmetry,{d-1} Essays in Criticism (Oxford, Eng.), 55 (2005): 159-72. A. C. Hamilton, Northrop Frye: anatomy of his criticism (Toronto, 1990). Jay Macpherson, The boatman (Toronto, 1957). Eli Mandel, {d-0}Frye: the Bible and literature - tautology as truth and vision,{d-1} in Eli Mandel, The family romance (Winnipeg, 1986), 135-40. Northrop Frye in conversation, ed. David Cayley (Toronto, 1992). Northrop Frye in modern criticism: selected papers from the English Institute, ed. and intro. Murray Krieger (New York, 1966). Paul Ricœur, {d-0}{s-0}Anatomy of criticism{s-1-unknown} or the order of paradigms,{d-1} in Centre and labyrinth: essays in honour of Northrop Frye, ed. Eleanor Cook et al. (Toronto, 1983), 1-13. A world in a grain of sand: twenty-two interviews with Northrop Frye, ed. R. D. Denham (New York, 1991).

BETHUNE, HENRY NORMAN, teacher, army officer, author, artist, doctor, surgeon, and inventor; b. 3 or 4 March 1890 in Gravenhurst, Ont., son of Malcolm Nicholson Bethune and Elizabeth Anne Goodwin; m. 13 Aug. 1923 Frances Eleanor Campbell Penney in London, England, and they divorced in October 1927; the couple remarried 11 Nov. 1929 in Montreal, but were divorced again 30 March 1933; they had no children; d. 12 Nov. 1939 in Huangshikou, Hebei province (People{apos}s Republic of China).

Henry Norman Bethune{apos}s grandfather, whose name was also Norman*, was a doctor and in 1849, with four colleagues, he founded Toronto{apos}s third medical school, the Upper Canada School of Medicine. Henry Norman{apos}s father, Malcolm Nicholson Bethune, initially led an adventurous life and travelled around the world. In Honolulu he met an English Presbyterian missionary, Elizabeth Anne Goodwin; he embraced her faith, which was also that of his ancestors, and returned to Toronto. After their marriage in 1887, he became a zealous evangelist, preaching in various parts of Ontario. His elder son, Henry Norman, who would become one of the world{apos}s best-known Canadians, was born in Gravenhurst.

Henry Norman was influenced by his grandfather (whose profession in medicine he chose) and by his father (whose zest for hard work he shared). Even as a youngster, he stood out for his wide-ranging curiosity, his great interest in surgery, and his individualistic spirit. Since his father{apos}s occupation involved frequent moves, the boy attended a series of different schools. In 1907, at the age of 17, he completed his high-school education in Owen Sound. After a spell as a primary-school teacher in the village of Edgeley, north of Toronto, in 1909 he enrolled in University College, University of Toronto, where he studied physiology and biochemistry. Two years later, he was engaged at a lumber camp near Whitefish (Sudbury) as a worker-teacher for the Reading Camp Association (which was to become Frontier College) [see Alfred FITZPATRICK]. In the fall of 1912 Bethune returned to the University of Toronto, entering the faculty of medicine. The calm of his university life was rudely interrupted in the summer of 1914 by the outbreak of World War I.

Accepted into the Canadian Army Medical Corps, Bethune arrived in England in September 1914. In February 1915 he went to France as a stretcher bearer. In April, during the second battle of Ypres, he was wounded in his left leg by a shrapnel shell that exploded nearby. He was taken to a hospital in England and then, in October, repatriated to Canada. Resuming his studies at the University of Toronto, he graduated with an MB in December 1916. In April 1917 he went back to England and the war, first as a surgeon sub-lieutenant in the Royal Naval Canadian Volunteer Reserve, and then in the Royal Navy aboard the seaplane carrier Pegasus. Following his demobilization at the end of hostilities, Bethune planned to specialize in pediatrics. With this in mind, he took up a six-month internship at London{apos}s famous Hospital for Sick Children on Great Ormond Street in 1919. Upon his return to Canada in 1920, he re-enlisted in the army and served for several months as a lieutenant on the medical staff of the Canadian Air Force. He then went back to Great Britain to begin his second internship, at Christmas, in West London Hospital, and, in the next year, to train as a surgeon at the Royal Infirmary in Edinburgh. He was admitted to the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh in February 1922 and, once more at West London Hospital, he became a resident surgical officer.

It was in London in 1920 that Bethune had met a beautiful and cultured Scotswoman, Frances Eleanor Campbell Penney. On 13 Aug. 1923, benefiting from a legacy she had received, they were married; among the things they had in common were a love of luxury and a propensity for excessive spending. After a six-month honeymoon in Europe (during which they squandered much of the inheritance), the Bethunes sailed for North America with the intention of settling there. In the fall of 1924 Bethune opened a medical practice in the rapidly growing city of Detroit. He also obtained a post as a voluntary assistant at Harper Hospital and gave a course in prescription writing at the Detroit College of Medicine and Surgery. Initially his practice had few patients; those he did have were generally poor and paid him in kind. His other jobs, however, brought him into contact with physicians and he was able to make himself known in medical circles. As time went on, his practice grew and attracted more affluent patients. The young couple{apos}s standard of living was improving, so they were able to buy a new car and move to a fashionable part of town. Despite this prosperity, Bethune was about to enter a very dark period of his life.

A gulf opened between Bethune and his wife and, as time went by, they drifted further and further apart. A passionate, energetic man, but also impatient, authoritarian, and even domineering, Bethune had a very different personality from that of his wife, who found his irascibility, among other things, difficult to live with. As well, Bethune was heavily absorbed in his work, and Frances Eleanor often found herself at home, alone and isolated. Tired of their quarrelling, particularly over money matters, in 1925 she went to stay with friends in Nova Scotia. She came back the following year but the situation had not changed. They divorced in 1927. Meanwhile, in 1926, Bethune had faced another ordeal: at the age of 36, he contracted tuberculosis and from December he was hospitalized in the Trudeau Sanatorium at Saranac Lake in New York. In those days, tuberculosis was a fatal disease. In torment, Bethune during the course of 1927 completed a mural entitled The T.B.{apos}s progress which consisted of nine drawings and some poems. One of the scenes shows the artist in the arms of the angel of death and predicts that his own death would occur in 1932. Yet Bethune did not give up and he fought the illness, notably by reading the materials on this disease available in the sanitarium library. One day he found an article about the artificial pneumothorax procedure. Convinced that it would be beneficial in his case, he badgered the physicians at the sanitarium into performing the operation. It was a success: Bethune{apos}s health showed visible improvement and he left the institution at the end of 1927. This particular experience would have a profound influence on the rest of his life. He decided then and there to put the knowledge he had acquired to good use by specializing in thoracic surgery in order to save other tuberculosis victims.

Bethune{apos}s relations with Archibald and other doctors in the same hospital were, however, increasingly strained because of differences in their characters and conflicting opinions. Sometimes disagreeing with their medical or surgical procedures, he criticized them openly, and on occasion even vehemently, especially about decisions on whether to operate. Bethune was more inclined than his colleagues to perform high-risk operations, which, in Archibald{apos}s view, increased the number of deaths in the operating theatre. At a more mundane level, unlike most of the other doctors who wore traditional grey suits, Bethune preferred a sports jacket or other casual wear. His social behaviour, too, tended to marginalize him. Rather a reveller who loved to be surrounded by women, he was prone to eccentric behaviour which was liable to shock those around him. The nonconformist, provocative side of his character eventually posed serious problems, and in the fall of 1932 Archibald dismissed him. The ups and downs in his private life, too, were by no means over; he and Frances Eleanor remarried in 1929, but two years later they separated once more.

In 1933 Bethune took up a new post as chief of pulmonary surgery at the Hôpital du Sacré-Cœur in Cartierville (Montreal). Now that he was his own master, he gave full rein to his talents and creativity. He operated, trained qualified surgeons, and introduced new techniques, such as person-to-person blood transfusion, while continuing to invent surgical instruments and publish scientific articles. His work gained him an international reputation. In 1932 he was made a member of the American Association for Thoracic Surgery and three years later he was elected to its council. Bethune was talented as a surgeon, but also as a writer and an artist. During the eight years he spent in Montreal, he wrote short stories and poems. In addition, he took up painting, with the encouragement of Marian Scott [Dale*], a painter whom he met at an artists{s-1-unknown} gathering and with whom he fell in love. Marian was involved in left-wing politics, and her husband, Francis Reginald Scott*, a poet and law professor at McGill University, was an important member of the Co-operative Commonwealth Federation. Bethune{apos}s literary, artistic, and medical activities brought him into more immediate contact with society and made him aware of disparities and injustice. The people with whom he socialized, Marian Scott in particular, introduced him to new political ideas. This was the context in which his acute social conscience and his growing interest in communism were developing. For him, as he noted in the Journal of the Canadian Medical Association in July 1932, tuberculosis was not just a disease but rather a problem arising from the socio-economic system: {d-0}[Edward Livingston] Trudeau well said: {s-0}there is a rich man{apos}s tuberculosis and a poor man{apos}s tuberculosis.{s-1-unknown}{d-1} Just as he had fought the disease itself, Bethune now took up the struggle on this more fundamental problem.

While staying in Moscow and Leningrad (St Petersburg) at the time of the 15th International Physiological Congress held in August 1935, he took the opportunity to visit Russian hospitals and investigate the Soviet medical system. He was deeply impressed by it and by the preventive methods used to fight tuberculosis in the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. This brief visit also led him to learn more about communism. On his return to Canada in November, he became a member of the Communist Party of Canada (a fact that only came to light in July 1937). His views on society and on medicine and how it should be practised would never be the same again. In the course of that fall, he organized a study group known as the Montreal Group for the Security of the People{apos}s Health, which brought together doctors, nurses, and social workers. Under Bethune{apos}s direction, they met regularly to examine the health-care systems of other countries with a view to proposing a plan of reform aimed at solving the practical problems facing health care in Quebec and in Canada. After about six months of study and discussions, the group came up with a four-point plan: municipal medicine, compulsory health insurance, voluntary health insurance, and medical care for the unemployed. In the summer of 1936, at the time of a provincial election, the plan was submitted to the government, the opposition party, and health-care workers. The general public showed no interest, and in certain quarters, which included some members of the medical profession, the reaction to it was hostile. Bethune was deeply disappointed by this negative response.

In June 1936, together with the artist Friedrich Wilhelm Brandtner, he organized workshops to teach poor children how to paint in oils and watercolours. Marian Scott was invited to be an instructor. The classes were held in Bethune{apos}s Montreal apartment in a studio which was designated the Children{apos}s Art Centre. This school attracted notice, and there were public showings of the children{apos}s paintings. Some of Bethune{apos}s pieces, such as Night operating theatre (completed around 1934), were exhibited in Montreal.

At this time, the Spanish Civil War, which broke out in July 1936, was of great interest to Bethune, who was increasingly drawn to political action. The military conflict between the rebel forces of General Francisco Bahamonde Franco, who were backed by the Roman Catholic hierarchy, Nazi Germany, and Fascist Italy, and the Republicans, who organized a popular-front coalition of anarchists, socialists, and communists, was intensifying. Anxious to fight fascism, disappointed by the failure of his project for medical reform, convinced, by now, that he could not have a real romantic relationship with Marian Scott, and tempted to embark on a risky adventure, he resigned from his position at the Hôpital du Sacré-Cœur, made his will (leaving everything to his ex-wife), and set off to help the Republican cause. This was an irrevocable turning point in his life. Thanks to the support of the Canadian Committee to Aid Spanish Democracy, he left for Spain on 24 October, taking medical supplies with him. This Toronto-based organization included members of the Socialist and Communist parties; its president, the Reverend Benjamin H. Spence, was a member of the Co-operative Commonwealth Federation, and two of its vice-presidents, Timothy Buck* and Alexander Albert MacLeod*, were Communists. On 3 November Bethune arrived in Madrid, which was then under attack by Franco{apos}s troops. Having observed and considered the situation, he came to the conclusion that the best way he could help the people of Madrid was by providing a blood-transfusion service. He went to London with Henning Sorensen, a multilingual Canadian, to buy the necessary equipment, including a van, a refrigerator, and bottles for blood. Back in Madrid, he set up the Servicio Canadiense de Tranfusion de Sangre in mid December. The team of three Canadians, an American woman, and a few Spanish doctors collected blood from donors and dispatched it to several hospitals in Madrid. Instead of waiting for the wounded to arrive, Bethune often led his team as close to the front line as he could so as to get blood to the injured soldiers as quickly as possible. This mobile blood-transfusion service, which saved many lives, constituted a major innovation in military and medical history, and was one that would prove seminal to the Allies in World War II. In the spring of 1937 the Spanish government assumed control of the transfusion service, as of the other organizations set up during the war. Bethune reacted sharply to this decision and sometimes, when he had had too much to drink, expressed his criticism in scathing terms. His relationship with the Spanish authorities was already tense; in the climate of suspicion generated by the war, his personality - at once authoritarian, quick-tempered, independent-minded, and charismatic - as well as the success of his initiatives, which competed with the work of some Spanish doctors, were disturbing and aroused anxiety. His relations with his superiors became even more strained from then on, and problems also arose with some of his colleagues, who insisted that he be sent back to Canada. Moreover, according to certain archival documents that can now be consulted, Bethune was a victim of the paranoia prevalent in Madrid at the time. He was suspected of spying because he made notes about the location of bridges and crossroads; as well, he was seeing a Swedish journalist, Kajsa von Rothman, a woman of whom the Spanish authorities were suspicious, believing her to be a fascist spy. It was against this background that in May 1937 Bethune was forced to return to Canada, where he went on a lecture tour to raise funds for the Canadian Committee to Aid Spanish Democracy. In June he received a triumphant welcome from crowds in Toronto and Montreal. In July a new phase of the Sino-Japanese wars broke out. Just as he had helped the Spaniards in their struggle against fascism, Bethune, who had very recently made public his commitment to communism, and, still bitter about the course of events in Spain, felt an ever-stronger desire for active service, decided to fight on the Chinese side against the Japanese aggressors. It was to be his final battle.

With the support of the New York-based China Aid Council and other organizations, Bethune and his Canadian-American Mobile Medical Unit sailed from Vancouver on 8 Jan. 1938. The unit{apos}s two other members were Jean Ewen, a Canadian nurse, and Charles Edward Parsons, an American doctor. They landed in Hong Kong on the 27th and then flew to Wuhan, the provisional capital of the Kuomintang (the Chinese Nationalist Party). There Bethune met Zhou Enlai, one of the leaders of the Communist Party of China who would become the premier of the People{apos}s Republic of China. He then set off with Ewen for Yan{apos}an in northern China with the intention of helping Mao Zedong{apos}s 8th Route Army, as it was known in the terminology of the Nationalist armies, who formed a united front against the Japanese. Dr Parsons was unwilling to make this trip and returned to the United States. Bethune and Ewen reached Xi{apos}an on 22 March and were greeted by Zhu De, the commander-in-chief of the 8th Route Army. They also met Richard Brown, a Canadian Anglican missionary and an experienced surgeon, who agreed to join their team for several months while he was on leave. They arrived in Yan{apos}an, the political nerve centre of the Communist Party of China, at the end of the month. On 31 March Bethune met with the party{apos}s leader, Mao Zedong, who was president of the revolutionary military council, and spent a few hours in conversation with him; the interview made a great impression on Bethune. After a month or so in Yan{apos}an, he and Brown travelled northeast to the frontier region of Jin (Shanxi)-Cha (Chahar)-Ji (Hebei), which was under Commander-in-Chief Nie Rongzhen.

On 17 June 1938 Bethune and Brown arrived in Jingangku, a village on the Wutai Shan mountain, where General Nie{apos}s headquarters were located. Nie promptly appointed Bethune medical adviser for the frontier region. Appalled by the lack of surgical instruments and medicines and the inadequate medical training of the staff, he set to work feverishly in an endeavour to change the situation. He examined the wounded and performed a continuing round of operations. He invented several instruments, including a wooden carrying case that greatly facilitated the transport of drugs and supplies, and also made it possible to set up an operating table for the mobile units more easily. Because of its shape, he gave it the Chinese name lugou qiao (Marco Polo bridge). In August and September, he supervised a five-week program that involved training, improvements in equipment, establishment of procedures, and other activities. This work led to the opening, on 15 September, of a permanent hospital slated also to be used to train doctors and nurses. After the hospital was destroyed by the Japanese at the end of October, Bethune focused on establishing mobile medical units and frequently took his team to the front line; as his motto put it: {d-0}Go to the wounded! Don{apos}t wait for the wounded to come to you!{d-1} These mobile units were particularly well suited to the guerrilla campaign being waged against the Japanese. He also managed to bring together a group of volunteer donors to ensure adequate blood supplies. He laid particular stress on the education of doctors and nurses. In January 1939 he organized a week of intensive training in the village of Yangjiazhuang. The author of several medical textbooks, he wrote one that year known in Chinese as {d-0}Youjizhan zhong shi yezhan yiyuan de zuzhi he jishu,{d-1} and in English as {d-0}Organization and technology of division field hospitals in guerrilla war.{d-1} That summer he was making plans to create a medical school. Since there was insufficient money, he planned to go back to Canada on a fund-raising tour.

Bethune worked prodigiously and took very little rest. In April 1939, during the battle of Qihui led by General He Long against the Japanese, he and his team performed 115 operations in just 69 hours. Since his arrival in the frontier region, he had lost a lot of weight. In a letter written in August 1939, he states that his teeth and his eyes are in bad shape and that he can only hear with one ear. Although sometimes the victims of his quick temper, the Chinese with whom Bethune worked considered him not only a great doctor but also a role model embodying the spirit of self-sacrifice and dedication to work. His ideas, his energy, and his courage won him leniency; furthermore, his exhausting pace of life as well as the attitude of the Chinese towards him seem to have helped him overcome the worst of his character traits, notably his penchant for alcohol. His patients were devoted to him. According to one of his assistants, the soldiers, when they were about to go into battle, would cry out: {d-0}We fight at the front. If we are wounded, we have [Bethune] to treat us. Attack.{d-1} On 28 October, when close to the fighting on Mount Motien, he cut the middle finger of his left hand during an operation. On 1 November, while operating on a soldier whose head wound was badly infected, he contracted septicaemia. He died on the 12th at Huangshikou. Bethune{apos}s death was a major loss to the 8th Route Army. Two solemn ceremonies honouring his memory were held in succession, in the frontier region where he had worked and then in Yan{apos}an. On 21 December Mao Zedong published his famous text {d-0}In memory of Norman Bethune,{d-1} calling on the Chinese people to assimilate Bethune{apos}s spirit: {d-0}utter devotion to others without any thought of self.{d-1} After the People{apos}s Republic of China was founded in 1949, Bethune became a widely respected hero there.

Further information concerning Henry Norman Bethune can be found in the following archives: at LAC, the Ted Allan fonds (R2931-0-4), the Norman Bethune Coll. (R5988-0-6), and the Marian Scott fonds (R2437-0-2); and at McGill Univ. Libraries, Osler Library (Montreal), the Roderick Stewart fonds (P089), and the Bethune Foundation fonds (P132). Interesting documents may also be found in the Toronto Public Library and the National Film Board of Canada (Montreal). Some of Bethune{apos}s writings and artistic works (letters, literary texts, artwork, and scientific articles) were published by Larry Hannant in The politics of passion: Norman Bethune{apos}s writing and art (Toronto, 1998).

The Bethune Museum at the Bethune International Peace Hospital in Shijiazhuang, People{apos}s Republic of China, holds texts that Bethune wrote while in China, and documents about him produced after his death, along with surgical instruments and household items used by him. Copies of the material in that museum may also be found in the Norman Bethune Coll. at LAC as a result of an agreement signed in 1982 between the governments of Canada and the People{apos}s Republic of China.

In 1979, on the 40th anniversary of Bethune{apos}s death, the People{apos}s Publishing House (Renmin Chubanshe) published a collection entitled Jinian Bai Qiu{apos}en / In memory of Norman Bethune. This work includes writings by Bethune (scientific and literary articles, speeches, reports sent to the Communist Party of China authorities, a diary, and letters), photos of Bethune, tributes to him by Chinese Communist Party officials and leaders (notably the famous article by Mao Zedong), texts by friends and colleagues in Canada, and testimonials from Chinese who knew him, as well as telegrams of condolence from the Chinese Communist Party and articles published in Yan{apos}an at the time of his death.

Many tributes to Bethune from his contemporaries have appeared in different periodicals in the People{apos}s Republic of China, notably those by He Zixin, Bethune{apos}s former cook and messenger, {d-0}Mingke zai xinzhong de jiyi: wo he Bai Qiu{apos}en zai yigi{d-1} [Engraved on my memory: I was with Bethune], Dangshi zongheng [Survey of the history of the Chinese Communist Party] (Shenyang, People{apos}s Republic of China), no.11 (1998): 37-39; by Yang Chengwu, a former general who had welcomed Bethune{apos}s mobile unit on more than one occasion, {d-0}Huiyi guoji zhuyi zhanshi Bai Qiu{apos}en{d-1} [Remembering Bethune: internationalist soldier], Zhibu jianshe [Edification of the Communist Party cell] (Taiyuan, People{apos}s Republic of China), no.Z1 (1995): 16-18; by Zhou Erfu, vice-minister of culture in 1978, {d-0}A soldier of glory,{d-1} Beijing Rev., 5-11 March 1990: 36-39; and by Zuo Qi, a former regimental commander and one of Bethune{apos}s patients, {d-0}Dr. Bethune and me,{d-1} Beijing Rev., 17-23 Sept. 1990: 31-32.

Canadian publications on Bethune include: Ted Allan and Sydney Gordon, The scalpel, the sword: the story of Dr. Norman Bethune (Toronto, 1952); Jean Ewen, China nurse, 1932-1939 (Toronto, 1981); Wendell MacLeod et al., Bethune: the Montreal years (Toronto, 1978); Norman Bethune: his times and his legacy, ed. D. A. E. Shephard and Andrée Lévesque (Ottawa, 1982); Robert Patterson, {d-0}Norman Bethune: his contributions to medicine and to CMAJ,{d-1} Canadian Medical Assoc., Journal (Toronto), 141 (July-December 1989): 947-53; Michael Petrou, {d-0}Sex, spies and Bethune{apos}s secret,{d-1} Maclean{apos}s (Toronto), 24 Oct. 2005: 46-52; I. B. Rosen, {d-0}Dr. Norman Bethune as a surgeon,{d-1} Canadian Journal of Surgery (Toronto), 39 (1996): 72-77, and {d-0}Dr. Norman Bethune: ideals and ideology,{d-1} Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons of Can., Annals (Ottawa), 28 (1995): 363-66; Roderick Stewart, Bethune (Toronto, 1973) and The mind of Norman Bethune (Toronto, 1977); M. P. Ungar, {d-0}The last Ulysseans: culture and modernism in Montreal, 1930-1939{d-1} (PHD thesis, York Univ., North York, Ont., 2003); and A. J. Walt, {d-0}The world{apos}s best-known surgeon,{d-1} Surgery ([St Louis, Mo.]), 94 (1983): 582-90.

In Canada, further biographical information may be found at: AO, RG 80-2-0-328, no.20774; Instit. généal. Drouin, {d-0}Fonds Drouin numérisé,{d-1} Advent, Anglican church (Westmount, Québec), 11 nov. 1929: www.imagesdrouinpepin.com (consulted 22 Feb. 2010); UTARMS, A1973-0026/28 (49); {d-0}Ministers of the Presbyterian Church in Canada, 1875-1925: ministerial summary from Acts and proceedings of the General Assembly,{d-1} comp. Douglas Walkington, (mimeograph, [Toronto], 1987; copy at UCC-C); Univ. of Toronto, University of Toronto roll of service, 1914-1918 (Toronto, 1921).

Bethune has been the subject of many Chinese publications, notably: Bai Qiu{apos}en zai Zhongguo [Bethune in China] (Beijing, 1977); He Hongshen and Wu Zhenglu, {d-0}Bai Qiu{apos}en{d-1} [Bethune], in Zhonggong dangshi renwu zhuan [Biographies of leading figures in the Chinese Communist Party] (100v. to date, Xi{apos}an, People{apos}s Republic of China, 1980- ), 9: 282-326; Mao Zedong, {d-0}In memory of Norman Bethune,{d-1} in Selected works of Mao Tse-toung … (4v., Beijing, 1967-69), 2: 359-61; Xu Youwei and Fang Yonggang, {d-0}Bai Qiu{apos}en Zhongguo zhi lu de tongxingzhe{d-1} [Bethune{apos}s travelling companion, Jean Ewen, the Canadian nurse], Shanghai dangshi yu dangjian [History and edification of the Communist Party in Shanghai] (Shanghai, People{apos}s Republic of China), no.4 (1997), 13-15; Zhang Xuexin, Bai Qiu{apos}en zhuan lue [A brief biography of Bethune] (Fuzhou, People{apos}s Republic of China, 1984); and Zhao Tuo, {d-0}Ma Haide yu Bai Qiu{apos}en{d-1} [Hatem and Bethune], Wenshi jinghua [Quintessence of literature and history] (Shijiazhuang), no.3 (2000): 38-40.

BURNS, PATRICK, settler, rancher, businessman, and politician; b. 6 July 1856 near Oshawa, Upper Canada, son of Michael O{apos}Byrne (Byrn, Byrne) and Bridget Gibson; m. 4 Sept. 1901 Eileen Louisa Francis Anna Ellis in London, England, and they had a son; d. 24 Feb. 1937 in Calgary.

Patrick Burns was one of a handful of entrepreneurs who grew rich in the beef industry as it developed roots in western Canada in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. In 1864 he moved with his parents, both Irish Catholic immigrants, and seven siblings from the Oshawa region to a farm near the village of Kirkfield, about 50 miles north. Here he received a rudimentary education at the local school. He does not appear to have enjoyed study and apparently skipped classes a good deal. Partly for this reason there has been a persistent rumor that he was illiterate. This is not correct. A typed letter he wrote to his brother Dominic in 1907 has a coherent postscript paragraph, free of spelling mistakes, in Burns{apos}s hand.

In the spring of 1878 Patrick and John travelled to Winnipeg by rail, stagecoach, and steamboat. Soon after their arrival they learned that some of the best agricultural land still available was farther west, beyond the reach of existing transportation systems. Lacking the money to purchase horses, they set out on foot to find homesteads. After walking more than 100 miles the brothers filed on separate quarter sections of land at Tanner{apos}s Crossing (Minnedosa). They then went back to Winnipeg to find work so they could accumulate more capital to establish their holdings.

At this time, the route of the Canadian Pacific Railway was being surveyed near Winnipeg, which gave Burns the opportunity he needed. He got a job blasting rock, for which he received $24 a month and his board in a construction camp. After six months he had enough money to buy a team of oxen and some supplies, and returned to his homestead at Tanner{apos}s Crossing. There other settlers joined in a building bee to help him construct his first house - a small log cabin. By using his oxen to drag timber out of the woods for a lumber mill and to plough for neighbours, he was able to acquire a second quarter section. Soon afterwards he got into the freighting business and carried supplies for his neighbours to and from Winnipeg. He also began to deal in cattle, buying from local farmers and selling the animals in the city. In 1886 he tried the experiment of shipping live hogs via the newly completed CPR to eastern markets. Wanting to demonstrate that it was possible to transport livestock over long distances, railway officials were anxious to accommodate him. The company offered him six cars and the promise that if he lost money on the deal, he would receive a rebate for up to the total cost. He later called at the company{apos}s office to announce that the rebate would not be necessary.

Burns stayed at his Manitoba homestead until 1885, when he turned to buying cattle full-time. His business prospered for various reasons. The railway link to the east and the growing number of settlers raised the demand for beef. But his big break came in 1887 when he was engaged by William Mackenzie, Donald MANN, and others to supply meat to their construction camps. His first contract was for the CPR{apos}s {d-0}Short Line{d-1} across Maine. It was followed by contracts for the Qu{apos}Appelle, Long Lake and Saskatchewan Railroad and Steamboat Company in 1888-89 and later for the lines out of Calgary to Edmonton and Fort Macleod, and finally for the Crowsnest Pass line. According to geographer Simon M. Evans, Burns {d-0}learned to establish a mobile slaughtering facility which could move easily as the railhead was extended. He employed a reliable butcher to prepare the meat, and handled the buying and droving himself.{d-1} Burns received financial backing from Mackenzie that helped him to buy and sell on a grander scale than would otherwise have been possible. In 1890 he built his first slaughterhouse, on the east side of the Elbow River in Calgary, and began supplying beef to the city and surrounding area. He also developed contacts with merchants in British Columbia to whom he sold both meat and wholesale livestock. He set up his own retail outlets there. To guarantee supply he bought property for a ranch in 1891 some 12 miles southeast of Olds (Alta) with Cornelius J. Duggan and started acquiring cattle both locally and from as far away as Manitoba. The ranch eventually comprised two sections (1,280 acres) of deeded land. By allowing their cattle to graze over countless acres of unclaimed land and employing neighbouring farmers to supply hay and feed in the winter, the partners were able to provide for between 20,000 and 30,000 head of cattle by 1904. In 1898 Burns diversified into mutton and pork; in the next year he purchased the McIntosh Sheep Ranch on Rosebud (Severn) Creek northeast of Calgary.

Burns{apos}s commercial enterprises continued to grow rapidly despite major obstacles. Twice his Calgary slaughterhouse was destroyed by fire. The original plant burned down in 1892 and was replaced with a property purchased from the Canadian Land and Ranch Company. This facility was opened in 1899 and enlarged in 1906. After its loss in 1913 Burns constructed an expanded, modern plant, which still stands in the Calgary stockyards as part of a performing-arts complex. In 1902 Burns had bought the string of shops and slaughterhouses owned by fellow meat marketer William Charles James Roper Hull* of Calgary. At this stage, as local journalist Leroy Victor Kelly* noted, he became the {d-0}acknowledged beef king of the West.{d-1} The deal included Hull{apos}s Bow Valley Ranche at Fish Creek south of the city. Using the ranch as support for his meat-packing business, Burns enlarged the property from 4,000 to about 12,500 acres by further land purchases and built a feedlot for 5,000 head of cattle.

In 1905 Burns incorporated his packing and other meat houses under a dominion charter as P. Burns and Company (in 1909 it would become P. Burns and Company Limited). In 1906, following the province{apos}s amendment of the territorial ordinance on brands, he registered his well-known Shamrock brand. Over the next quarter century he established packing plants at Edmonton, Vancouver, Regina, Prince Albert, Sask., Winnipeg, and Seattle. These facilities made the slaughtering process more efficient, and enabled more parts of the animals to be used for such things as household goods and pharmaceuticals. Consolidating his business, Burns bought out or started more than 100 retail meat shops in the provinces of Alberta and British Columbia and set up export agencies in London, Liverpool, and Yokohama, Japan. In 1920 a strike in the Calgary plant demonstrated that, despite the economic downturn following World War I and high cattle losses following a severe winter, Burns was in a strong enough position to refuse the workers{s-1-unknown} terms.

Burns continued to acquire ranching properties, presumably in part because increasing settlement was reducing available public land and farmers resented the {d-0}pirate herds{d-1} of cattle that were allowed to wander freely by Burns and other ranchers. He came into possession of some smaller holdings as a consequence of their proprietors{s-1-unknown} insolvency: several ranchers in southern Alberta turned over their titles because they were unable to repay the credit or loans he had extended to them. Bigger operations were obtained through purchase or lease. He bought the 7,000 deeded acres of the CK Ranch on the north side of the Bow River about eight miles west of Calgary in 1905. Originally owned by Charles Edwin Banks Knight, it became a dairy farm when Burns established a herd of purebred Holstein cattle and marketed their milk and cream in Calgary. He bought the 3,300-acre Ricardo Ranch near the city in 1906. In 1910 he purchased the outfit created by John Quirk near High River and the properties that became known as the Kelly-Palmer Ranch south of the Little Bow River, and took over the lease of the Colonel A. T. Mackie spread of some 150,000 acres on the Milk River. Then he added the Imperial Ranch and the Circle Ranche, both near the Red Deer River, to his holdings. By the beginning of World War I, Burns had more than 400,000 acres under his control, and more than 30,000 head of cattle. In 1917 he leased the 37,500 deeded acres of the famous Walrond Cattle Ranch in the foothills north of Pincher Creek. That same year he sold the Quirk, Kelly-Palmer, Mackie, and Imperial but in 1918 he replaced them with the Rio Alto on the Highwood River and the Lineham on Sheep Creek (Sheep River), close to Calgary. In 1923 he bought the Glengarry (also known as the 44) west of Claresholm.

In 1927 Burns purchased the Bar U and the neighbouring Flying E, respectively on the Little Bow River and Willow Creek. The Bar U, also known as the North-West Cattle Company, was one of the first great ranches in the Canadian prairie west. It had been started by Frederick Smith Stimson* and backed financially by the wealthy Allan family of Montreal. Burns paid over $400,000 for the ranch{apos}s approximately 37,000 deeded acres and the rights to its leased land, $50 per head for its cattle, and $40 per head for its horses with calves and foals thrown in (the total amount paid for livestock was about $300,000). Burns bought both these operations from the estate of the celebrated George Lane*, the American who had become the cattle foreman for the Bar U in the 1880s. Burns knew and admired Lane, who had been one of the most respected members of the western cattle fraternity.

Burns{apos}s life was not picture perfect, however. Not all his business interests proved successful. He had made an attempt to compete in the United States creamery market with a plant in Seattle, but decided to close it four years later. Although his investment in Mexican copper mining apparently paid well, he spent tens of thousands of dollars trying to establish a coalmine near Sheep Creek, while mining ventures in Rossland and other British Columbia coal towns appear to have brought less than spectacular rewards. In accumulating stocks in oil companies in Alberta{apos}s Turner valley he seems to have profited only sporadically.

A source of consternation was public suspicion of unfair dealing that dogged Burns during much of his career. This distrust was a consequence of his meteoric rise as a businessman. He got rich trading in cattle and beef and, under frontier conditions, he faced very little competition. His early specialty was purchasing cattle that gave coarser meat and marketing them to railway-construction crews and mining-town labourers. There were many cattle of this type for two reasons. The west{apos}s early herds, principally from the United States, displayed characteristics of the Texas Longhorn, being tall, thin, and unlikely to flesh up well. Secondly, most farmers and ranchers who settled the Canadian west attempted to fatten their stock on grass, a very undependable method. Without short, mild winters, plentiful rains, and lush grass, cattle tended not to fill out. Their meat was often not well marbled, and consequently was stringy and anything but tender. William Mackenzie{apos}s business contacts and financial backing meant that Burns could easily buy poor-quality animals at his own price. This situation naturally caused some cattlemen to believe that he commonly took advantage of them.

What seemed to vindicate their suspicion was the fact that there appeared to be a conspiracy between Burns and the other big middleman on the ranching frontier, the firm of Gordon and Ironside of Winnipeg (Gordon, Ironside, and Fares after 1897). Just before the turn of the century William Henry Fares and George Lane, both later partners of James Thomas Gordon and Robert Ironside*, usually worked with or for Burns in purchasing livestock. Gordon and Ironside generally bought the well-finished cattle that could be marketed in eastern Canada and overseas. Even some of Burns{apos}s close friends considered this splitting of the beef market to be evidence of unfair teamwork. Thus, for instance, in 1900 Alfred Ernest CROSS expressed the opinion that {d-0}there are practically only two buyers here, and in fact it nearly all comes through one as he sells the exporters to the other after buying all the beef and uses the rough stuff himself, thus leaving the seller more or less at his mercy.{d-1} At this stage Cross was prepared to forgive his friend because {d-0}he has shown far more mercy than any one could expect.{d-1} Three years later, however, he sounded less accepting. {d-0}We are trying,{d-1} he said, {d-0}to get a reasonable price, and not sell our cattle for far less than they are worth as was the case last year. What we want is to establish a fair market without any favors so that we know we can get at any time the right market value for all or any of our beef cattle and not go round with your hat in your hand at the mercy of one or two concerns.{d-1}

In 1907 a joint Manitoba-Alberta body, the Beef Commission, was set up to examine the meat trade and allegations of combination among western cattle dealers. Called upon to testify, Burns made it clear that he deeply resented the accusation of price fixing. {d-0}Without Pat Burns,{d-1} he declared, {d-0}the western country would starve in ten days,{d-1} and he stated in no uncertain terms his belief that he alone was up to the task of marketing the ranchers{s-1-unknown} produce. Unquestionably he played a crucial role in the formation of the beef industry in western Canada. One can understand the ranchers{s-1-unknown} fears, however. It is telling, and perhaps somewhat ironic, that as many of the big cattlemen sold out, their operations were bought up by Burns. There can be little doubt that some, perhaps all, of these ranchers gave up because they could not make their operations pay. If they had received a bigger share of the market price, many might have been able to stay in business. It could not have escaped the ranchers{s-1-unknown} notice, furthermore, that the two principal firms acting as middlemen generally seemed to garner most of the industry{apos}s profits. The findings of the Beef Commission exonerated both P. Burns and Company and Gordon, Ironside, and Fares of price fixing, but not all of the farmers and ranchers may have been equally convinced.

Burns attained a great deal of public acclaim in the west and across the country during his lifetime. He was awarded the rank of knight commander of the Order of St Gregory the Great by the Vatican in 1914 in recognition of his service to the Roman Catholic Church and the public. He supported the Liberal Party and in 1923 was offered a seat in the Senate, which he refused because of his heavy workload. When the offer was made again in 1931 after the death of Prosper-Edmond LESSARD, he was close enough to retirement to accept; he would sit as an independent. The appointment was announced on 4 July during Calgary{apos}s huge celebration of his approaching 75th birthday. Some 750 guests attended a banquet, including {d-0}more prominent citizens, nationally known government officials, agriculturalists, heads of industrial enterprises, artists and journalists than ever gathered at a similar event of this kind in the west.{d-1} Conservative prime minister Richard Bedford Bennett*, a personal friend despite Burns{apos}s Liberal leanings and his one-time solicitor in Calgary, was unable to attend but he sent a congratulatory message. It was read before the audience along with telegrams from Governor General Lord Bessborough and the Prince of Wales, who had bought the E.P. Ranch next to Burns{apos}s Bar U. A 3,000-pound birthday cake was distributed to some 15,000 people.

These tributes were offered in recognition of Burns{apos}s business acumen but they were also acknowledgements of his work for public and charitable causes. The community-spirited action for which he is probably best known is the organizational and financial backing he provided together with Archibald James MCLEAN, A. E. Cross, and George Lane - the {d-0}big four{d-1} cattlemen - for the first Calgary Stampede held from 2 to 5 Sept. 1912. His support of this inaugural event, a rodeo and frontier-days presentation, was just one of Burns{apos}s numerous public-spirited deeds. When a rockslide devastated the mining community of Frank (Alta) on 29 April 1903, he offered aid before anyone else. After the town of Fernie, B.C., was wiped out by fire some five years later, he sent its citizens a freight car of food. During World War I he and his company contributed $50,000 to equip the Legion of Frontiersmen. After the war he was made an honorary member of the Calgary Aero Club (now the Calgary Flying Club) {d-0}in token of … [his] interest in aviation and his gift of two airplanes{d-1} to support the war effort. He made a substantial donation to the construction of the Canadian Memorial Church, built by the Reverend George Oliver Fallis* to honour those who had served in the war. He contributed to Holy Cross Hospital in Calgary and gave 200 acres of land and a regular supply of meat to the Lacombe Home, founded by Father Albert Lacombe* in Midnapore, Alta. It is said that while the Catholic church near the Lacombe Home was being painted at his expense, he noticed the shabby condition of the nearby Anglican church and told his workers to paint it too. Besides providing free office space in one of his Calgary buildings to the Western Stock Growers{s-1-unknown} Association, Burns helped to improve western dairy herds by arranging to sell good Jersey and Holstein breeding stock to farmers on long-term payment schedules. He gave financial aid to two sisters struggling to establish the Braemar Lodge, which became an important Calgary hotel. He supported talented artists by, for example, sponsoring the operatic career of Isabelle Burnada and the musical training of Odette de Foras. When Calgary celebrated his birthday in 1931, he announced that {d-0}for each single unemployed man or woman in the city a ticket good for 50 cents, would be issued at his expense for the purchase of food and that to each married unemployed man he would give a five pound roast of beef. {s-0}I feel,{s-1-unknown} he said, {s-0}that during the Stampede celebration and on the occasion of my 75th birthday, I would like to do something for the citizens who during these difficult times [the Great Depression] are unable to obtain employment.{s-1-unknown}{d-1}

Burns had his own problems in the 1930s. Most immediate were the financial difficulties of P. Burns and Company Limited. In 1931 he was obliged to invest $200,000 so that it could pay the interest on its bonds. Even then the business continued to flounder: in 1934 it was announced that the company had not paid dividends on its preferred shares since 17 Oct. 1930, or any interest on its bonds since 1 June 1932. A restructuring agreement enforced by the appellate division of the Supreme Court of Alberta on 25 April 1934 basically allotted all the company{apos}s preferred shares to the bondholders. P. Burns and Company Limited would soldier on and eventually expand and prosper, although Burns did not live to see this development.

His other major financial headache in later years was the fall in his personal net worth. This decline resulted not just from the problems of the company. At the end of 1928, after the sale to Dominion Securities, Burns valued his holdings in stocks and property at $9,211,222.41. Over the course of the depression he stubbornly continued to declare his assets at close to this sum despite warnings from his accountants that {d-0}attention should be given to the setting up of reserves to provide for probable losses on Accounts Receivable, particularly those included in the Cash Advances, many of which appear to us to be very doubtful as to recovery.{d-1} The accountants pointed out as well that {d-0}probable shrinkage in the value of investments has not been dealt with.{d-1} After his death his estate was assessed at $3,833,413.34 - a vast sum for the times, but well short of his calculations. The decreasing value of his life{apos}s work must have haunted the senator during his declining years.

Beyond business concerns, there was another aspect of Burns{apos}s life that was not ideal. His family situation was difficult at best. He and his wife, the daughter of a rancher from Penticton, B.C., clearly had their problems. Some evidence suggests that Burns made a genuine attempt to make his wife happy. Between 1900 (a year before his marriage) and 1903 he spent approximately $40,000 to build a family mansion on 13th Avenue West in Calgary. Neo-Gothic in design, with steeply pitched gables, ornate sandstone carvings, and a three-storey tower, Burns Manor had 18 rooms, including 10 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, and a conservatory. Oak from eastern Canada was used extensively for the interior, while furniture imported from England and a landscaped garden helped to sustain an Old-World air. In its time Burns Manor, which had been commissioned from the prominent architect Francis Mawson RATTENBURY, was probably the most luxurious dwelling in Calgary. However, it was not enough to give the Burnses a strong domestic bond. They were separated by both age and religion. When they married in 1901, Burns was 45 years old and Eileen only 27; throughout his life he strongly adhered to the Catholic faith, while she was a Protestant. Their major problem, however, seems to have been that he was addicted to work: even their wedding, at a registry office in London, was arranged to coincide with a business trip. Largely because business occupied so much of Burns{apos}s time, Eileen found her life in Calgary both lonely and unfulfilled. Unable to adjust, she went to live in California and then Vancouver. In the early 1920s she was diagnosed with cancer, and died on 7 Sept. 1923, shortly before her 50th birthday. It seems that Burns{apos}s relationship with his one child was not close. Patrick Thomas Michael did not enjoy his father{apos}s robust health, and he does not appear to have shown any sustained interest in the commercial undertakings so important to Burns. On 18 Sept. 1936 Patrick was found dead in his bed at his father{apos}s home, presumably because of a heart attack. He was 30 years old. Burns himself had suffered a stroke in 1935 (as a consequence of which his Senate seat had been declared vacant in June 1936 because of nonattendance), and died less than six months after his son. He was buried in St Mary{apos}s Cemetery in Calgary.

Burns was as generous at his death as he had been in his life. Among the beneficiaries named in his will were the Lacombe Home, the Salvation Army, the Children{apos}s Shelter of Calgary, the widows and orphans of men in the city{apos}s police force and fire department, the Roman Catholic bishop of Calgary, the Collège Saint-François-Xavier in Edmonton, the Navy League of Canada, the Canadian Red Cross Society, the Junior Red Cross, the British Empire Service League, the Canadian Legion{apos}s tuberculosis section, the 103rd Regiment (Calgary Highlanders), the Boy Scouts Association in Alberta, and the Southern Alberta Pioneers{s-1-unknown} and Old Timers{s-1-unknown} Association.

GA, M 160, M 7771, M 8688, M 8780. Calgary Albertan, 6 July 1931. Calgary Herald, 25 June 1907; 3 July 1919; 16, 20 May, 11 Oct. 1927; 10 May 1928; 4 July 1931; 3 Sept. 1955; 29 Sept. 1960; 1 Feb. 1998; 26 Sept. 1999. Calgary News Telegram, 19 March 1912. High River Times (High River, Alta), 4 Dec. 1930. Times (High River), 13 Nov. 1985. Western Farmer (Calgary), 10 July 1931. David Bright, {d-0}Meatpackers{s-1-unknown} strike at Calgary, 1920,{d-1} Alberta Hist. (Calgary), 44 (1996), no.2: 2-10. W. M. Elofson, Frontier cattle ranching in the land and times of Charlie Russell (Montreal and Kingston, Ont., 2004). Encyclopedia Canadiana, ed. K. H. Pearson et al. ([rev. ed.], 10v., Toronto, 1975). Encyclopedia of music in Canada (Kallmann et al.), 178. S. M. Evans, The Bar U & Canadian ranching history (Calgary, 2004). J. H. Gray, A brand of its own: the 100 year history of the Calgary Exhibition and Stampede (Saskatoon, 1985). L. V. Kelly, The range men (75th anniversary ed., High River, 1988). H. C. Klassen, A business history of Alberta (Calgary, 1999); Eye on the future: business people in Calgary and the Bow valley, 1870-1900 (Calgary, 2002). [J. W.] G. MacEwan, Pat Burns, cattle king (Saskatoon, 1979). Peter McKenzie-Brown and Stacey Phillips, In balance: an account of Alberta{apos}s CA profession, 1910-2000 ([Edmonton], 2000). B. P. Melnyk, Calgary builds: the emergence of an urban landscape, 1905-1914 (n.p., 1985). A. F. Sproule, {d-0}The role of Patrick Burns in the development of western Canada{d-1} (MA thesis, Univ. of Alta, Edmonton, 1962). Who{apos}s who in Canada, 1932/33.

George Grant is best known as a Canadian nationalist and a {d-0}red Tory,{d-1} someone who favoured a larger role for the state in social and economic affairs than mainstream Conservatives. His writings in the 1960s offered a new way of defining Canada that appealed to many who came of age in that decade and the next. The older anti-imperialist nationalism associated with the Liberal Party, which had emphasized the country{apos}s North American character and destiny over its connections with the British empire, was challenged in Grant{apos}s most widely read book, Lament for a nation (1965). It gave voice to a new anti-imperialist identity by proclaiming the death of the old. Today it stands as a classic of Canadian political thought. Grant was an influential writer and teacher both before and after this period, however, and his contributions to Canadian life must also be considered from the standpoint of philosophy and theology.

He belonged by birth to an educational and political elite identified with loyalty to the British empire and belief in its civilizing mission. His parents were the children of leading advocates of imperial federation in the decades before World War I. They regarded imperial unity, to be secured by a vast new federal structure, as the surest basis for a distinct Canadian nationality. Grant{apos}s paternal grandfather, George Monro Grant*, an influential Presbyterian minister, author, and principal of Queen{apos}s College in Kingston, Ont., helped to transform that institution into a leading Canadian university. His mother{apos}s father, Sir George Robert Parkin*, served as headmaster of Upper Canada College in Toronto before becoming the first organizing secretary of the Rhodes Trust{apos}s scholarship program. After being injured in World War I, Grant{apos}s father, a historian with a particular interest in Canada, returned in 1918 to become headmaster of UCC, like his father-in-law before him; he held that post until his death in 1935. Through the marriages of maternal aunts, Grant was also related to two important figures: diplomat Charles Vincent Massey*, a Liberal, and lawyer and businessman James McKerras Macdonnell, a Conservative member of parliament and minister without portfolio in the 1950s.

While his links with these male relatives would come to shape his development, it was his mother, Maude Parkin, with her powerful personality and her ambition for her only son, who was the single most formative influence in Grant{apos}s young life. He would later describe the family, dominated by her and his three equally strong-willed older sisters, as a gynarchy. Until he was nearly 40 and she was too ill to make sense of his letters, Grant wrote to his mother almost weekly, telling her his hopes and fears and seeking advice, approval, and some demonstration of love from this reserved woman. His sisters - Margaret Monro, to whom he was close when he was young, Jessie Alison, later married to diplomat George IGNATIEFF, and Charity Lawson, whose relationship with him was frequently stormy - would all play significant roles in his life.

When Grant was growing up, he may have seemed destined to follow in the footsteps of his illustrious forebears. From 1927 to 1936 he attended UCC, where he was always aware of being the son and grandson of principals. A summer spent in Quebec introduced him to the politics and culture of the province and laid the basis for his sympathetic understanding of its nationalism. He then studied history and literature at Queen{apos}s University in preparation for a legal career, with a view, it seems, to public service. In 1939 Grant was awarded a Rhodes scholarship for study at the University of Oxford. Six years later, in his first noteworthy publications - a pamphlet titled The empire: yes or no? and an article in Public Affairs (Halifax) headed {d-0}Have we a Canadian nation?{d-1} - he called for the preservation of Canada{apos}s traditional link to Great Britain and support for that country{apos}s attempts to maintain its global influence, despite the growing challenge of the United States and the Soviet Union. But the trajectory suggested by these activities is misleading. While Grant was still young, the influence of his family, important though it undoubtedly was, collided with his own tendency to non-conformity. By far the most important example was his objection to participating in the cadet corps that all students at UCC were required to join. He eventually secured an exemption as a pacifist, and from that time the secular and religious arguments for this position were key elements of his thought.

Grant maintained his pacifist stance through the first two years of World War II, despite his family{apos}s expectation that he would enlist. He travelled to Britain in October 1939, a month after the outbreak of hostilities, to take up his scholarship at Balliol College, but was able to complete only one year of legal studies before Oxford largely ceased to function. He became acquainted with a group of British pacifists whom he greatly admired, and in the summer of 1940 he and several of them received first-aid training for work in an ambulance corps, an alternative form of war service available to conscientious objectors. During the heavy bombing of London between September that year and the following spring, Grant was an Air Raid Precautions warden in Bermondsey, a tough working-class district on the south side of the Thames that was close to major targets. In February 1941, while he was away from a railway arch that served as one of his shelters, it suffered a direct hit and was {d-0}smashed to ribbons,{d-1} with enormous casualties, including the deaths of several people to whom Grant had become close.

The following months were difficult for him, and much remains obscure about this period in his life. Under increasing pressure from his family to abandon his pacifism, he decided to enlist in the merchant navy, thus avoiding a combat role but not the dangers of the war. He completed the recruitment formalities and was assigned to a ship, but after a medical test, which revealed that he had tuberculosis, he disappeared from sight for two months. On a farm in Buckinghamshire where he worked for a time, he underwent an experience that would stay with him for the rest of his life. Grant sometimes described this as a {d-0}conversion{d-1} or being {d-0}born again.{d-1} In an interview more than 50 years later, he explained it as a sudden awareness of an order beyond time and space. {d-0}I just remember going off to work one morning and I remember walking through a gate; I got off my bicycle and walked through a gate, and I believed in God. I can{apos}t tell you more, I just knew that was it for me. And that came to me very suddenly.{d-1} Therefore {d-0}I am not my own,{d-1} as Grant frequently put it, echoing St Paul. Rather, there is a {d-0}centre of human existence,{d-1} an unchosen reality, in relation to which human choices can be measured and defined. {d-0}My thoughts have never really turned from this central thing in any way. I can now give better arguments than I could all these many years ago, but that is still the central core of what I think about.{d-1}

Grant{apos}s understanding of Christianity, one of the basic questions raised by his life and writings, is not easily discerned. He described himself as {d-0}a lover of Plato within Christianity{d-1} who belonged to the side of Christianity that is farthest from Judaism and Islam and nearest to Hinduism in its philosophic expression. And he sometimes quoted the dictum of Clement of Alexandria: {d-0}Some were led to the Gospel by the Old Testament, many were led by Greek philosophy.{d-1} But it was only in what he wrote much later about the French philosopher and mystic Simone Weil that the outlines of his own theology would become clearer.

Grant reappeared at his sister Alison{apos}s flat in London in late 1941. With the help of Vincent Massey, then Canadian high commissioner to Britain, he was able to secure a passage home the following February. He spent the rest of the war in Toronto, at first being nursed back to health by his mother and then working for the Canadian Association for Adult Education, which prepared radio programs for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. He threw himself into broadcasting as a way of educating the general public for the responsibilities of democratic citizenship, writing scripts and a regular column and co-authoring 20 study guides.

Nothing about Grant{apos}s enthusiastic involvement in the CAAE suggested any basic change in direction. Nonetheless, when he returned to Oxford in 1945 to resume his studies, it was - to the surprise and consternation of his family - with a completely new purpose. His focus was now on theology and philosophy, and his goal was to write a thesis for an Oxford doctorate, the DPHIL, and become a university teacher. He sought the advice of A. D. Lindsay, the master of Balliol and a highly respected scholar and political figure, whom he had met in 1939. The topic of the thesis, suggested by Lindsay, was the thought of John Oman, a Scottish theologian who had directed Westminster College in Cambridge for many years. Its purpose was to examine Oman{apos}s treatment of the relationship between the natural and the supernatural.

Soon after his arrival in Oxford, Grant discovered the Socratic Club, which met weekly during term to argue the reasons for and against Christianity. It was led by the literary scholar and Christian apologist C. S. Lewis, who deeply impressed Grant with his humanity and his clarity in debate. Grant would later describe the club as {d-0}a wonderful part of my education{d-1} that {d-0}helped me enormously.{d-1} It was there he met Sheila Allen, a British student who had worked as a nursing assistant during the war and shared his pacifist stance; they were married in the summer of 1947. Soon after, they moved to Halifax, where Grant had secured an appointment in the department of philosophy at Dalhousie University. With help from James Alexander Doull, a Canadian friend he had met at Oxford, who also joined Dalhousie in 1947 and was better prepared in philosophy, he began to teach. Halifax would be the Grants{s-1-unknown} home for 13 years. Their first child was born there in 1948, and five more would follow before they left in 1960. The family spent two academic years in England, the first, in 1949-50, so that Grant could finish his thesis and the second, in 1956-57, on a sabbatical leave.

He would later describe his marriage with Sheila as {d-0}the greatest event in my life,{d-1} and he once told her that every year he had {d-0}sloughed off so much unhappiness by pouring it over you.{d-1} Herself gifted with a {d-0}powerful mind,{d-1} she encouraged him in his work, reading and editing his writings and sometimes preparing first drafts. He took great pleasure in his children, though concern about his ability to support a large family in a time of low academic salaries weighed heavily on him. Grant enjoyed reading aloud to them and playing games that sometimes involved wild chases through the house. Yet the marriage was often tempestuous, and the children found unnerving their father{apos}s emotional intensity and the noisy quarrels that sometimes broke out between their parents.

Grant{apos}s first important publication was a background paper on philosophy that he wrote for the royal commission on national development in the arts, letters, and sciences in Canada, established in 1949 and chaired by his uncle Vincent Massey. His discussion begins with the provocative declaration that the {d-0}study of philosophy is the analysis of the traditions of our society and the judgment of those traditions against our varying intuitions of the Perfection of God.{d-1} It goes on to deplore the popular tendency to assume that philosophy is a technical subject confined to specialists in universities, rather than an activity that should engage all manner of men and women, since they must consider how their particular functions in society relate to the common good. Contemporary academic philosophers, particularly in the Anglo-American countries, Grant claimed, were guilty of accepting and even promoting a false understanding of their subject as essentially a technique serving to clarify and promote the {d-0}scientific method{d-1} responsible for the achievements of the modern natural sciences, with no dependence upon {d-0}the theological dogmas of faith.{d-1} Little wonder, then, that students gravitated to the sciences - {d-0}if philosophy is merely the servant of science, then they are better occupied studying with the master rather than with the servant{d-1} - and that governments saw little reason to spend much money on their philosophers. {d-0}In some universities in English-speaking Canada, there are four times as many people teaching physics as teaching philosophy, and three times as many people teaching animal husbandry.{d-1} As if to rub salt into the wound, Grant exempted the Roman Catholic colleges and universities from his sweeping condemnation and praised the philosophical significance of work being done in other disciplines by scholars such as classical historian Charles Norris Cochrane*, literary critic Herman Northrop Frye*, and even economist Harold Adams Innis*.

Not surprisingly, some leading academics in Canada were offended by his unflattering depiction of their complacent secularism and narrow professionalism, and they hit back hard. His subsequent writings were in part defensive reactions to the stinging criticism directed at this essay. In a penetrating lecture written about this time and titled {d-0}Canadian universities and Protestant churches,{d-1} Grant spelled out his reasons for taking a critical view of his grandfather{apos}s achievement in modernizing and expanding Queen{apos}s College. {d-0}The minds of men in the atomic age,{d-1} an address to the conference held at Lake Couchiching, Ont., by the Canadian Institute on Public Affairs in 1955, sketched in eloquent terms the price being paid for the benefits of economic expansion in a mass scientific society.

Grant delivered nine talks on the CBC{apos}s University of the air program in 1958, and the next year they became his first book, Philosophy in the mass age. The lectures were meant to introduce a radio audience to moral philosophy, and he clearly explains how the ancient idea of natural law differs from the modern concept of human freedom or autonomy. But much of the book{apos}s appeal derives from his way of relating his basic theme of ancients and moderns to his observations about the life lived in contemporary scientific, capitalist societies. He defends Karl Marx and his followers against the patronizing criticism then common and acknowledges the power of Marx{apos}s thought, but in the end he rejects it because {d-0}it does not allow sufficient place to the freedom of the spirit.{d-1} His analysis of modern moral language culminates in a chapter, {d-0}American morality,{d-1} that briefly explains the severe limitations of American pragmatism. There are few explicit references to Hegel in the text, but the influence of his thought (as Grant had learned it from Doull) is everywhere apparent and especially in Grant{apos}s surprisingly {d-0}optimistic{d-1} concession that, despite the blight of democratic capitalist pragmatism, the young people drawn to study philosophy and theology heralded what might yet be {d-0}the dawn of the age of reason in North America.{d-1}

In 1961 he contributed the first chapter, {d-0}An ethic of community,{d-1} to Social purpose for Canada, a collection of essays edited by political scientist Michael Kelway Oliver and published by a group of {d-0}democratic socialists{d-1} that included future prime minister Pierre Elliott Trudeau*, to mark the refounding of the Co-operative Commonwealth Federation as the New Democratic Party. Contrary to what its title may suggest, Grant{apos}s essay is less concerned to explain a new ethical ideal than to clarify the character of Canadian society: its capitalist power structure and, more fundamentally, its mass technological culture. Like other modern societies, whether capitalist or socialist, it offers individuals a new kind of freedom and independence at the price of a new kind of control and dependence. Canadians have more choices as consumers but fewer opportunities for any meaningful participation in politics. They gain a greater sense of their own personal freedom but lose the relations to others which in the past gave significance to that freedom, and as a result they more easily surrender to passivity and a simple hedonism. Canada{apos}s capitalist power structure gives this problem {d-0}its own peculiar tint,{d-1} Grant says, but it appears in all societies that have reached {d-0}a mature stage of technological development.{d-1} Turning from description to prescription, he censures his socialist allies as well as their capitalist adversaries, claiming that socialists in the past have too often spoken as if the interests of humanity were simply identified with more commodities and socialism was just a better technique for producing these goods and distributing them more fairly.

Grant{apos}s Lament for a nation, which appeared four years later, attacked those who had driven John George Diefenbaker*{apos}s Progressive Conservative government out of office in 1963 and brought the Liberals under Lester Bowles Pearson* to power. The crucial question, in both the vote in parliament and the following general election, was whether Canada should acquire nuclear warheads for the anti-aircraft missiles it had purchased from the United States as part of its contribution to continental air defence. Diefenbaker{apos}s defeat, after his refusal to accept the warheads, was for Grant {d-0}the defeat of Canadian nationalism,{d-1} as the book{apos}s subtitle proclaimed, and {d-0}the end of Canada as a sovereign state.{d-1} No longer did it make sense, he argued, to pretend that Canadians were building a real alternative to the American republic. Diefenbaker had come into office in 1957 on a nationalist platform, believing it was his destiny to revive a country that had been falling apart during the previous 20 years of Liberal rule. But his prairie-populist antipathy to socialism kept him from seriously considering the only formula - nationalism together with socialism - that could reverse the quickening process of continental cultural and economic integration. {d-0}Only nationalism could provide the political incentive for planning; only planning could restrain the victory of continentalism,{d-1} Grant declared. Those who celebrated Diefenbaker{apos}s defeat, he concluded, {d-0}showed, whether they were aware of it or not, that they really paid allegiance to the homogenized culture of the American Empire.{d-1} Many, he thought, could not see what all the fuss was about, since for them the purpose of life was consumption, and borders (and cultural differences) got in the way of economic efficiency.

The more sophisticated readers, such as historian Frank Hawkins Underhill*, tended to brush aside Grant{apos}s arguments as mere {d-0}family piety{d-1} and {d-0}nostalgic passion for lost causes{d-1} in order to reaffirm modern, pragmatic philosophy{apos}s {d-0}faith in man{apos}s ability to make his own history, which has been spreading from America to the rest of the world.{d-1} Even those who were sympathetic to Grant{apos}s views, such as political scientists Gad Horowitz and James Laxer, often continued to assert what he denied - the possibility of a progressive nationalist and socialist future for Canada - and to attribute his denial, his {d-0}pessimistic philosophy of history,{d-1} to his allegiance to his remarkable family and its political faith.

Grant{apos}s unorthodox conservatism, his way of combining fidelity to religious traditions with antipathy to the domination of Canadian life by scientists and businessmen, is the element of truth in any description of him as a red Tory, a label he himself did not much like. Without some understanding of this strand in his thought, much of Lament for a nation must remain opaque. In particular, his puzzling but fundamental claim that Canada{apos}s {d-0}disappearance{d-1} is necessary but not necessarily good, whatever it may owe to his alleged pessimism or nostalgia, depends for its basic meaning on arguments not laid out in the book itself but clearly explained elsewhere. Only in footnotes that are easily overlooked does Grant point back to Philosophy in the mass age and the importance for him of {d-0}a classical account of ethics,{d-1} rather than {d-0}a modern notion of free will{d-1} and the implication that this issue has for an understanding of {d-0}historical necessity{d-1} and {d-0}the unfolding of fate.{d-1} Necessity in human affairs, he assumed, is largely a matter of the accepted opinions about what is good (those that are usually presupposed when {d-0}the individual{d-1} attempts to follow liberal advice and choose {d-0}his own conception of the good{d-1}). Since, as Grant claims, Canadians now shared essentially the same opinions about goodness as Americans, the conclusion follows that any new nationalism which might arise in the foreseeable future would have to be within the pragmatic {d-0}religion of technology{d-1} that Canadians imbibed from American sources as well as from the politics and culture of modern Britain.

An earlier generation of British Canadians had tended to believe the country{apos}s connection with their homeland would keep alive {d-0}a conservative tradition that was more than covert liberalism.{d-1} This conservatism, better represented by Britain{apos}s pageantry than by its thought, they imagined, would give Canada a distinctive national identity. But according to Grant, events had shown that this hope - the dream of his ancestors - depended on a romantic exaggeration of British distinctiveness. {d-0}British conservatism was already largely a spent force at the beginning of the nineteenth century when English-speaking Canadians were making a nation.{d-1} So, contrary to what most have thought to be Grant{apos}s position, it was unwise, in his view, to rely on British traditions as counter-attractions to the American dream.

The book, he later confessed, {d-0}was written too much from anger and too little from irony.{d-1} Irony was necessary because the more theoretical questions on his mind in the mid 1960s were not well reflected in the prolonged struggle between Diefenbaker and Pearson. Sharp as the contrasts between these two figures were, the ambiguities in the men themselves made it difficult to relate them to the authors Grant was studying. Thus there is almost no evidence in Lament for a nation of his long-standing fascination with Simone Weil. (He was planning to write at length about her and had visited Paris in the summer of 1963 to collect materials for this purpose.) Nor is there any trace of his growing interest in the German philosopher Martin Heidegger, which had displaced his earlier interest in the French writer and philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre and the existentialism of the 1940s and 1950s. Technology, one of Grant{apos}s major preoccupations both before and after he wrote Lament, has an important place in the book{apos}s argument, but the question of how it should be understood is not addressed. Only the impact of his discovery around 1960 of the writings of the German-American political theorist Leo Strauss, then almost unknown outside a narrow circle of political scientists and classical scholars, is clearly visible, not just in two laudatory footnotes about Strauss and in Grant{apos}s analysis of American conservatism but especially in his almost unqualified rejection of cosmopolitanism, in the form of {d-0}the universal and homogeneous state,{d-1} that is at the heart of Lament for a nation.

By the mid 1960s his circumstances and associations had changed. He had grown restive in Halifax, and his relationship with Doull, vitally important in his early years at Dalhousie, had become less satisfactory as their thinking began to diverge. Grant also wanted to be closer to his mother in her old age, though in 1959 he had considered an appointment at Claremont Men{apos}s College in California. The following year he and his family moved to Toronto so that he could take up the position of associate professor of philosophy at York University, a new institution that would eventually be located in a northern suburb of the city. Before classes began, however, Grant resigned because of a dispute over the introductory course he had been assigned to teach. Because York in its early years was affiliated with the University of Toronto, students were to follow the same curriculum and take examinations set by the older institution. Grant particularly objected to the use of The spirit of philosophy, written by Toronto{apos}s Marcus Long, which he thought {d-0}perverted both Christianity and ancient philosophy,{d-1} and he felt it would be unfair to weaker students to teach against the prescribed textbook.

The first decade at McMaster corresponded with his greatest involvement in Canadian politics. In the 1950s he had been one of a small group of CCF supporters at Dalhousie, and in 1961 he had contributed to a publication (Social purpose for Canada) that advocated progressive policies. After the NDP members of parliament joined the Liberals to help vote Diefenbaker{apos}s government out of office in 1963, however, he cut his ties to the social democratic party. His defence of Diefenbaker in Lament for a nation led many to associate him with the Conservatives, but his most important political connections were now with the student opposition to nuclear weapons and the war in Vietnam. Grant spoke at a major anti-war {d-0}teach-in{d-1} held at the University of Toronto in 1965, and the following year he addressed a large demonstration for peace in Vietnam staged in Toronto. These speeches and some articles he contributed to radical periodicals sustained the image of him as being on the left.

Perhaps Grant{apos}s most significant political activity during his early years at McMaster, though, was on a different plane. His return to Ontario and the booming industrial heartland of the continent, after an absence of 15 years, was unsettling. Equally so was his discovery of the thought of Strauss. Evidence of its impact is his article {d-0}Tyranny and wisdom,{d-1} which later appeared in the collection Technology and empire: perspectives on North America (Toronto, 1969). It is a careful examination of the issues raised by one of Strauss{apos}s most obscure works, a detailed commentary on a dialogue by Plato{apos}s contemporary Xenophon; the response to it by a then little-known but influential French Hegelian, Alexandre Kojève; and Strauss{apos}s polemical rejoinder. Grant aligns himself with Strauss in his root-and-branch rejection of the Hegelian politics of recognition which culminates, in theory, in the creation of a {d-0}universal and homogeneous state.{d-1} Like Strauss, he denies the claim that Hegel had truly synthesized classical and biblical morality, a synthesis that, according to Strauss, effected the miracle of producing an amazingly lax morality out of two that had made very strict demands. Grant raises awkward questions, however, about what it would mean to restore classical social science, as Strauss was proposing. Would it mean putting aside the compassion demanded by biblical morality?

This essay is the best evidence of what the discovery of Strauss meant for Grant, but there is a simpler, more concise explanation in the new preface he wrote for Philosophy in the mass age when it was republished in 1966. He now disavowed the progressive faith he had been questioning but had not definitively abandoned when he wrote the book: that human history can be understood as the progressive incarnation of reason and that all the benefits of technology can be enjoyed while still keeping all that was good in the ancient world. It was this view that Hegel{apos}s philosophy seemed to demonstrate was possible, as his friend James Doull had persistently maintained, but Grant now rejected it, declaring that {d-0}Plato{apos}s account of what constitutes human excellence and the possibility of its realization in the world is more valid than that of Hegel.{d-1}

In Philosophy in the mass age Grant had tried {d-0}to catch the popular moral language in explicit form{d-1} by sketching its historical and philosophical background and explaining as clearly as possible in non-technical terms the thought that sustains Canadian and American life: {d-0}that the age of reason was beginning to dawn and first in North America.{d-1} In Technology and empire he describes in similarly accessible language (apart from the article on Strauss and Kojève) the bleaker vision that follows from the position he had taken regarding Plato and Hegel. The book examines the sources and spells out the implications of the prevailing faith in technology.

What is this faith as Grant understands it? It is not the belief that all the applications of modern science have been good. Rather, it is the more reasonable belief that the kind of science which increases human power is, on the whole, helping us to lead better lives and {d-0}bring in the Kingdom.{d-1} Although this idea may now be shared by the mass of humanity, Grant concedes, and it may continue to fascinate some acute intellects when it is expressed with philosophical subtlety and depth, {d-0}the accidents of existence{d-1} and {d-0}the battering of a lifetime of madness,{d-1} he says, dragged him out of this common faith. Technology and empire is the consummate expression of Grant{apos}s alienation - his sense of being {d-0}a stranger to the public realm{d-1} - and his regret, dread, and anger. In its mixture of the patriotic and the rebellious, the familiar and the abstruse, the passionate and the coolly detached, the book is perhaps his most characteristic work, and with the black cover of the original edition, it fixed the popular image of George Grant as Canada{apos}s gloomy prophet brooding over a dying civilization.

He was evidently rejecting much of what most Canadians believed, yet rather than offending conventional opinion, he was able to make many people aware of their own unspoken reservations about a way of life that was rooted in the faith he was criticizing. By the end of the 1960s he was a celebrated public figure as well as an admired teacher and a prominent author. Grant had dismissive critics, to be sure, but also a large following in the universities and beyond. He had been elected a fellow of the Royal Society of Canada in 1964, and between 1971 and 1980 he was awarded seven honorary degrees, including one from the University of Toronto in 1979, despite his uneasy relationship with that institution going back to the university{apos}s decision in 1946 not to hire him as warden of Hart House because of his pacifist stance. In 1977 a symposium to discuss his ideas was held at the university{apos}s Erindale College in Mississauga. He was made an officer of the Order of Canada in 1981, and the same year he received the RSC{apos}s Pierre Chauveau Medal.

In the 1970s, however, Grant had been moving away from the direct involvement in public life that brought him these honours. In the lead essay he wrote for Technology and empire, {d-0}In defence of North America,{d-1} he compared himself to a {d-0}scavenging mongrel{d-1} in a famine {d-0}who claims no merit in scenting food.{d-1} The name he used for that food was {d-0}Greekness{d-1}: not {d-0}progress{d-1} or {d-0}synthesis{d-1} or {d-0}revolution{d-1} but a particular kind of {d-0}return{d-1} which demanded scholarship like that of Doull or Strauss because modern assumptions are built into our language and thus into all the readily available and publicly respectable accounts of our tradition. Some of the most valuable insights of the ancient authors are therefore likely to come to us as apparently unintelligible or arbitrary assertions. There is no easy way to fill the gaps in conventional accounts and correct the distortions, which are imposed on us with all the weight of contemporary politics and science. In Hegel{apos}s ambitious theory, history is the progressive process by which freedom and reason realize themselves in the modern world, and some of the most troublesome modern assumptions - for example, that history carries us upward regardless of our own efforts - are made explicit and defended. But one can abandon this theory, as Grant had, and yet retain a vague, unarticulated progressive faith or just the corrosive suspicion that human existence is always within time and can never transcend its given historical horizons in the direction of eternal truth.

In his Massey Lectures, Time as history, delivered on CBC radio in 1969 and later published, Grant addresses radical historicism in its most challenging and enticing forms. Like his earlier radio talks, these were meant to provide a general audience with an introduction to a vast topic: in this case, the thought of 19th-century German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche. Grant claims that Nietzsche shows what it means to exist within the horizon of {d-0}time as history{d-1}: that is, the more or less unconscious assumption that everything exists as a coming to be and a passing away, that nothing escapes the historical process or can be understood except in its genesis and development. {d-0}History (call it, if you will {s-0}process{s-1-unknown}) is that to which all is subject, including our knowing, including God, if we still find reasons for using that word.{d-1} The relevant contrast to {d-0}time as history{d-1} is not the measured time so important in modern scientific theorizing but, rather, the Platonic conception of events in time as the moving or wavering images of eternal realities. The problem is what follows from the rejection of the ancient contrast between time and eternity. Objections to the Platonic forms or ideas as naive fictions, logical blunders, or disguised expressions of the will to power may flatter some with an exhilarating sense of their own liberation from {d-0}higher standards,{d-1} since the rejection offers them the exciting prospect of new experiments on themselves or others on the way to creating a {d-0}higher man.{d-1} But given such an unqualified freedom to be oneself, what becomes of that self? What can the {d-0}higher{d-1} now mean?

Focusing on Nietzsche{apos}s distinction between {d-0}last men{d-1} and {d-0}nihilists,{d-1} Grant recommends the German philosopher{apos}s diagnosis of our situation but not his remedy. The last men, who are the vast majority, perhaps, within advanced technological societies, having been steeped in the scepticism of modern science, may be content to pursue modest goals. They take their bearings from the modern doctrines of progress, which deliberately lowered the standards of human achievement so that a greater number could meet their demands. The nihilists, on the other hand, hold on to the negative pole of human greatness; they can at least despise themselves (and others) for their comfortable acceptance of mediocrity. But having been persuaded that they cannot really know what it is good to will (since all moral horizons have an all-too-human origin in time and lack any higher authority), they risk being paralysed by an overwhelming burden of meaningless choices. As the age of planetary politics dawns, the more energetic assuage their restless wilfulness by seeking mastery for its own sake.

Do either the last men or the nihilists deserve to be masters of the earth? This is the question that Grant wants his audience to confront. He briefly explains what Nietzsche says about the spirit of revenge against our limited, dependent, time-bound, thwarted, and imperfect existence and Nietzsche{apos}s fear that it may spoil the liberation promised by modern natural science. And he outlines Nietzsche{apos}s claim that this spirit of revenge can be overcome, at least among the well constituted, by a love of fate within an eternal recurrence of the same situations and events, without postulating any timeless eternity or ultimate perfection. Grant concludes with a statement of his own incomprehension: {d-0}I do not understand how anybody could love fate, unless within the details of our fates there could appear, however rarely, intimations that they are illumined; intimations, that is, of perfection (call it if you will God) in which our desires for good find their rest and their fulfilment.{d-1}

The difficulty is that the pre-modern understanding of morality as {d-0}a desiring attention to perfection{d-1} makes no sense if perfection, like all other values, is a human creation in time, with no independent, eternal reality. This problem is both religious and political but also philosophical. The beliefs and rituals that bind a society together, enabling it to confront questions of meaning and purpose, may be called its religion. The disintegration of the traditional religion of most Canadians, a conservative form of western Christianity, was the background to what Grant called the disappearance of Canada. The result, he suggests, has been confusion among the vast majority with modest goals, leaving them easily driven here and there by those with strong wills, while the latter are freed from the restraints of any traditional discipline of self-overcoming and left prey to the spirit of revenge that Nietzsche feared. How can one bring this situation of darkness to light as darkness when our spectacular technical achievements seem to prove that we are living in a more brightly illumined world than ever before in human history? What relation is there between the dazzling light of modern science and {d-0}the eternal fire which flames forth in the Gospels and blazes even in the presence of that determining power{d-1}?

These difficult themes are brought together in Grant{apos}s most academic book, English-speaking justice, which began as the Josiah Wood Lectures at Mount Allison University in Sackville, N.B., in 1974. After careful revision, the lectures were published in a small format by the university four years later. {d-0}They are now the thing I have given more thought to than anything I have ever written,{d-1} Grant told his Mount Allison editor in 1976. {d-0}They are certainly, in my opinion, the deepest writing I have ever done … and they say something I very much want to say.{d-1} The work became more widely available only in 1985, when it was published by other presses in both Canada and the United States.

When Grant is known outside Canada, it is usually for this book. The practical issue it highlights is abortion. He presents the widespread acceptance of abortion as evidence of the darkness that now surrounds justice. The final chapter considers the decision of the United States Supreme Court in the famous case of Roe v. Wade in 1973, which invalidated most of the restrictions that American state legislatures had placed upon safe, cheap abortions on demand. Grant says that this decision {d-0}raises a cup of poison to the lips of liberalism.{d-1} But he begins the book with the broad question of whether modern technological science still supports the practice of liberal politics: that is, whether our technological understanding of science is still compatible with the belief (other than as an arbitrary article of faith which wealth and power have made to seem self-evident) that equal justice, in the traditional sense, is due all human beings. There is, of course, a familiar history - the story of western intellectual and political progress from the Renaissance and the Reformation through the Enlightenment to the liberalism of recent theorists such as Bertrand Russell, Karl Popper, and John Dewey - which suggests a positive answer: there is indeed a mutually supportive interdependence between modern scientific reason and liberal politics. This narrative, however, ignores the gradual undermining of the traditional belief that moral judgement has a rational basis and therefore also the belief that reason supports liberal justice. As scientific reason has become clearer to itself, it has seen more distinctly how different it is from the investigation of final purposes that underlies moral judgement, leaving our basic standards a function of will, it would seem, rather than of reason. Are we not then facing a {d-0}crisis of the West{d-1}?

Stated in such broad terms, the problem is one that many other thinkers have explained. What lifts Grant{apos}s treatment of it above the routine is his devastating analysis of the most celebrated academic publication in moral philosophy of the recent past, John Rawls{apos}s A theory of justice (1971), which was widely believed to provide the needed rational basis for liberal politics and morality. Broadly speaking, Rawls{apos}s argument rests on a combination of some currently influential assumptions about human motivation and the working of social institutions and {d-0}our intuitions{d-1} about what is fair or unfair in human relations. Based as it is on these historically relative presuppositions, the theory offers at most, Grant believes, a systematization and {d-0}equilibration{d-1} of contemporary moral judgements. Far from providing any platform for the critical inspection of popular moral language, it modestly concedes that it is unable to bring this language before any higher tribunal; the crucial test of the theory, according to Rawls, is how well it fits our pre-existing moral opinions. In other words, it stands in relation to the moral language of a particular society at a specific time in the society{apos}s history as one of its grammar books might relate to its spoken language: that is, it is able to explain a few generally recognized solecisms, but otherwise it merely abstracts rules from whatever is said and done.

This objection - essentially that Rawls provides a startling example of historicism simplified and carried to a higher plane of pure complacency - Grant drives home by a careful examination of the Supreme Court{apos}s reasoning in Roe v. Wade. The majority opinion, written by justice Harry A. Blackmun, turned on the current liberal axiom that rights under a liberal constitution are prior to any account of the good. According to Grant, the opinion showed what was really being said about justice in contractual theories such as Rawls{apos}s, which can avoid the revealing practical questions by hiding between the covers of bulky academic books. In fact, in his lengthy exposition of his argument, Rawls skims over the question of abortion, not letting his own reasoning cut to the heart of the matter - the humanity of the foetus and the reasonable expectation that an elaborate theory of justice will clarify real moral dilemmas.

Grant had first used the question of abortion to illustrate the difference between traditional natural law and a utilitarian morality of convenience and convention in Philosophy in the mass age. According to the traditional view, as he explained it there, morality was a matter of actualizing an unchanging law, which he called {d-0}the reason and will of God.{d-1} The increasing acceptance of abortion showed, he thought, how far most people had departed from the constraints of natural law or any fixed standards of right and wrong in favour of the view that our moral standards are ultimately no more than the conventions of a particular society. As early as 1959 Grant could write that {d-0}most people are now brought up in a world where this moral relativity has become the tradition.{d-1}

In brief articles in several widely read publications in the 1970s and 1980s, he and his wife, Sheila, expressed their dissent from the prevailing moral scepticism and its practical consequences with respect to euthanasia as well as abortion. This position made Grant in some ways a more controversial figure than he had been earlier, for his views on Canadian independence and American imperialism had put him on the left in public debate, where he was protected by the aura of progressive good sense that surrounds the moderate democratic left. By contrast, his opposition to {d-0}abortion reform{d-1} placed him distinctly to the right of the moderate consensus, which held that abortion, though never desirable in itself, is a woman{apos}s right and is sometimes necessary for her mental, physical, or social health. But he did not shrink from using the controversy to show the significance of technology for moral philosophy.

For Grant, technology was the antithesis of the kind of thinking demanded by questions about final purposes. The word itself had become a key term in his vocabulary in the 1960s when he was reading Heidegger and the French sociologist Jacques Ellul, but his use of it is closely related to his earlier observations about contemporary education. Not surprisingly, given his family background, Grant had always had a strong interest in this subject. There is some evidence of his enthusiasm as a young man for the educational writings of John Dewey and another American philosopher, William James, but in the 1950s he wrote and spoke frequently against the pragmatic {d-0}progressive{d-1} education then in vogue. He condemned it for aiming no higher than to prepare young people to slip smoothly into some specialized routine within the {d-0}productive{d-1} part of society, thus dealing with students {d-0}like a farmer organizing his cows.{d-1}

Such training, in Grant{apos}s view, is no real education, for by treating knowledge as simply a means, it implicitly denies the possibility that learning could be the way for {d-0}free rational beings{d-1} to escape the shadow-filled cave of their own and others{s-1-unknown} imaginings {d-0}into the sunlight which is the radiance of God.{d-1} {d-0}Technology,{d-1} as the most revealing word for the pragmatic education that preserves the darkness of the cave, is not, as Ellul maintained, the aggregate of techniques (devices, machines, routines, and so on) that has become autonomous and now threatens to elude human control. To think of technology in this way, as something outside ourselves, is to miss its essence. At bottom, as Heidegger said, it is nothing technical. Its real significance is most easily grasped by considering the new paradigm of knowledge that resulted from the fateful union of knowing and making, which arose centuries ago from the discrediting (or perhaps, as Heidegger argued, the fulfilment) of ancient science and metaphysics. Technology is expressed today in the doctrine that {d-0}ideas are true insofar as they help men manipulate their natural environment.{d-1} When this doctrine and its achievements dominate the education and thinking of a society, they narrow vision and constrain thought, making it almost impossible to reason about anything beyond the limits of a science whose hard core is the adaption of means to given ends. Technology then becomes, in a sense, the religion of such a society and potentially the religion of the whole world, as western techniques and the education they require are exported to developing countries.

In his writings in the 1950s and 1960s, particularly Philosophy in the mass age, Grant had raised the question of why the modern spirit - {d-0}the religion of technology and progress{d-1} - had first arisen in Europe rather than in China or India, and he had outlined an explanation: the penetration of European civilization by a form of Judaism - namely, Christianity - with a distinctive conception of Providence. The western understanding of time as history is rooted in the image of divine power found in the Bible. It reveals a divine person - {d-0}a God of will{d-1} - who continually but unpredictably intervenes in the affairs of humans in order to bring about their salvation. The secularization of this vision through the gradual development of a sense of rational human freedom and autonomy in the face of both objectified nature and divine revelation yields {d-0}the futuristic spirit of progress in which events are shaped by the will of man.{d-1}

During his early years at McMaster, Grant had hoped that students in the department of religion would be shown alternatives to this modern secular faith. Unfortunately, the tension between his vision of the department and the norms of the modern university eventually erupted in a bitter quarrel with his colleagues, resulting in his move back to Dalhousie in 1980. In newspaper accounts of this dispute, including one in the Globe and Mail (Toronto) written by Grant himself, it appeared to be an instance of {d-0}the battle between teaching and research.{d-1} Should university professors, who are presumably being paid to teach, spend so much of their time on specialized research? Would they not be better teachers - better prepared for their classes, more attentive to their students, more available outside class - if they were under less pressure to write for publication? From this angle, Grant was the defender of Canadian teachers concerned primarily with the education of their students against American researchers interested only in their careers.

At a deeper level, however, the quarrel had to do essentially with the impact of technology on both teaching and research in the humanities and social sciences. Grant had little patience with the claim that the {d-0}scientific method{d-1} of holding the relevant {d-0}objects{d-1} - religious texts, doctrines, and practices - at a distance from oneself in order to force them to give their reasons for being as they are would yield valuable results that would be valid for all enquirers, whatever their subjective commitments. In practice, such methods get in the way of {d-0}dialectical{d-1} education, the {d-0}sustained and disciplined conversation{d-1} needed when what is being investigated has to do with matters of ultimate concern. Grant had hoped his department would be {d-0}the university within the multiversity,{d-1} a refuge from the subject-object framework, with its deleterious practical as well as theoretical effects. Teachers would teach, not a method and its results, but the wisdom of the past. When he was interviewed by writer and broadcaster David Cayley in 1985, he looked back on his efforts at McMaster as a failure. {d-0}I tried … to build a department of religion in which people who were inside the great religions of the world expounded the truths of those religions.… Now, through mistakes I made, it gradually got taken over by people who just did research about the great religions.{d-1} The department thus became {d-0}a home for the stupidest kind of technology.{d-1}

If Grant had had the time (and, he said, the courage) to write at length about Heidegger, the analysis would presumably have taken up the themes of his last book, Technology and justice, which appeared in 1986. A collection of six previously published articles and chapters, two of them substantially revised, it deals with technology more clearly and comprehensively but with religion more circumspectly than his earlier writings. The volume{apos}s longest and most important chapter, a revision of a paper written almost a decade earlier, examines {d-0}faith and the multiversity.{d-1} Faith is defined, following Weil, as {d-0}the experience that the intelligence is enlightened by love.{d-1} The technological paradigm of knowledge institutionalized in the modern multiversity ignores - and, when challenged, denies - the possibility of such experience. How then can people of faith be educated in the multiversity?

Grant{apos}s answer seems to be that they need to be shown a less restrictive conception of knowledge while being guided away from the now-dominant view of religious faith, shaped by modern philosophy, and towards an older understanding of it. In an appendix, he points to the close relationship, historically, between Platonism and Christianity and briefly explains the contrast between the modern assertion that man{apos}s essence is his freedom and the Platonic understanding of love, freedom, and the good as intertwined. In accounts of faith shaped by modern philosophy, specifically those of German theologians influenced by Heidegger, the tension between scientific reason and revelation, rather than being mitigated, is accentuated. Such accounts may seem to do justice to the historical elements of Christian faith, but they may obscure its idea of eternity and its image of perfection.

Over the years Grant had suffered the lingering effects of an automobile accident in Barbados in 1970 in which both he and Sheila were injured. In 1986 he was diagnosed with diabetes. He had always enjoyed his wife{apos}s splendid dinners, usually preceded by a drink or two, and though pleased that the illness could be controlled by pills rather than injections, he resented the limitations it placed on food, alcohol, and tobacco. He died two years later of pancreatic cancer. In the 1950s the Grants had discovered the isolated fishing village of Terence Bay, a short distance from Halifax. They bought a piece of land, and Grant and a carpenter from Dalhousie erected a primitive cottage where the family summered. The {d-0}thought of the mystery and holiness{d-1} of this place had frequently drawn him back, and he is buried in a small cemetery on the edge of the village. On his gravestone are carved the words {d-0}Out of the shadows and imaginings into the truth.{d-1}

George Grant had been a presence in Canadian life for more than 40 years. A {d-0}burly man with an impressive corporation,{d-1} as journalist Charles Taylor described him when he was in his sixties, he had a massive head and a shaggy beard. Even in a suit he appeared dishevelled, his broad front frequently covered in cigarette ash. He spoke with a resonant voice that reminded Taylor of an organ. {d-0}He leans into his sentences,{d-1} and the {d-0}key phrases explode amid a flurry of arms and hands.{d-1} Grant had a wide and eclectic taste in literature and loved music, particularly Mozart, once telling an interviewer that Mozart {d-0}must have had an eternal model; his music is like partaking in eternity.{d-1} Listening to the composer{apos}s work, he added, was the only time he ever felt unfaithful to his wife. Though his outspoken views had made him enemies, particularly in academia, he had many close friends, including Manitoba{apos}s chief civil servant Derek R. C. Bedson, whom he had known since their days at Oxford together, and Howard Brotz, who taught sociology at McMaster and had studied under Strauss at the University of Chicago.

His distinguished family opened some doors for Grant when he was a young man and no doubt encouraged his belief that he had a right to express his opinions, but it was the boldness and sureness of his grasp of the basic problems of modern thought that won him an audience. The clarity of his dissent from the premises of modernity also sometimes earned him sharp rebukes from those who were more trusting than he was. The combination of nationalism and conservatism revealed in Lament for a nation and in his opposition to the Vietnam War was an inspiration to some and an offence to others, not all of whom, from either camp, had much sense of his sources and reasoning. On the final page of Lament, Grant makes a cryptic reference to {d-0}the ancient faith … that process is not all{d-1} and quotes a puzzling line from Virgil{apos}s Aeneid: {d-0}They were holding their arms outstretched in love toward the further shore.{d-1}

A great, even riveting teacher, not just in person, as many of his students have testified, but also in his writings, Grant is remembered as {d-0}unusually open to dialogue.{d-1} He is sometimes called a public intellectual in recognition of the clarity and force of his writing, but the term is misleading. Much of what he wrote is undeniably closer to academic journalism than to specialized scholarship. But the style was an integral part of his dissent from the assumptions of modern {d-0}objective{d-1} science, and his kind of dissent is not common among public intellectuals. Like one of his mentors, Leo Strauss, he was deeply at odds with the republic of letters. The neglect of his thought by some academics, though it may seem justified by the form his work took, invariably has to do with its substance. He was too existential for most of the republic{apos}s philosophers and too unorthodox for its theologians and other religious professionals.

Grant{apos}s most devoted followers seem to be political scientists and religious-studies scholars on the fringes of their professions. He is little known outside Canada and almost never cited by foreign authors. In English-speaking Canada his reputation has faded somewhat, but interest in his thought is likely to endure because of the gravity of the questions he addresses from a distinctively Canadian perspective. Among francophones, interest in his writing has grown. As cultural historian Christian Roy wrote in 2007, {d-0}The time of the real reception of George Grant{apos}s thought in Quebec seems to have finally arrived.{d-1} Grant was indeed a great Canadian, part of whose charm was his awareness of the unimportance, in the end, of his own remarkable personality. Were he to have summed up his life, he might have said, {d-0}If I have seen something of the truth, that is not mine; only the errors are mine.{d-1}

The most important printed source for George Parkin Grant{apos}s life is William Christian, George Grant: a biography (Toronto, 1993), which also includes a comprehensive {d-0}Bibliography of George Grant{apos}s publications,{d-1} comp. K. M. Haslett, 450-60. A family perspective is provided in Michael Ignatieff, True patriot love: four generations in search of Canada (Toronto, 2009).

Grant{apos}s most famous work, Lament for a nation: the defeat of Canadian nationalism (Toronto, 1965; 40th anniversary ed., 2005), has been translated into French as Est-ce la fin du Canada?: lamentation sur l{apos}échec du nationalisme canadien, Gaston Laurion, trad. (LaSalle [Montréal], 1987). David Cayley, George Grant in conversation (Concord, Ont., 1995) contains Grant{apos}s most important recorded interviews. Correspondence appears in George Grant: selected letters, ed. and intro. William Christian (Toronto, 1996). Grant{apos}s published writings and selected unpublished lectures, talks, reviews, letters, drafts, and notes have been assembled in Collected works of George Grant, ed. Arthur Davis et al. (4v., Toronto, 2000-9). His article {d-0}The battle between teaching and research,{d-1} which originally appeared in the Globe and Mail (Toronto), is reprinted in volume 4.

There are three book-length studies of Grant{apos}s thought: J. E. O{apos}Donovan, George Grant and the twilight of justice (Toronto, 1984); Harris Athanasiadis, George Grant and the theology of the cross: the Christian foundations of his thought (Toronto, 2001); and H. D. Forbes, George Grant: a guide to his thought (Toronto, 2007), which also contains a discussion of the secondary literature (pp.281-96). Shorter studies appear in six edited volumes: George Grant in process: essays and conversations, ed. Larry Schmidt (Toronto, 1978); By loving our own: George Grant and the legacy of {d-0}Lament for a nation,{d-1} ed. P. C. Emberley (Ottawa, 1990); {d-0}Two theological languages{d-1} by George Grant and other essays in honour of his work, ed. Wayne Whillier, 1990, which is volume 43 of Toronto studies in theology (98v. to date, Lewiston, N.Y., and Queenston, Ont., 1978- ); George Grant and the future of Canada, ed. Y. K. Umar (Calgary, 1992); George Grant and the subversion of modernity: art, philosophy, politics, religion, and education, ed. Arthur Davis (Toronto, 1996); and Une pensée libérale, critique ou conservatrice?: actualité de Hannah Arendt, d{apos}Emmanuel Mounier et de George Grant pour le Québec d{apos}aujourd{apos}hui, sous la dir. de Lucille Beaudry et Marc Chevrier (Québec, 2007). R. C. Sibley examines Grant{apos}s thought in the context of two other Canadian philosophers in Northern spirits: John Watson, George Grant, and Charles Taylor - appropriations of Hegelian political thought (Montreal and Kingston, Ont., 2008). In Exiles from nowhere: the Jews and the Canadian elite ([Montreal], 2008), Alan Mendelson discusses Goldwin Smith* and a group described as his {d-0}friends,{d-1} among whom he counts Grant, his former colleague in McMaster{apos}s department of religion.

Arch. of Man. (Winnipeg), P 6400-60 (D. R. C. Bedson fonds), ser.2, P 6415, file 14 (correspondence with Grant). Martin Heidegger, The question concerning technology, and other essays (New York, 1977). Marcus Long, The spirit of philosophy (Toronto, [1953]). John Rawls, A theory of justice (Cambridge, Mass., 1971). Leo Strauss, On tyranny (New York, 1963). Charles Taylor, Radical Tories: the conservative tradition in Canada (Halifax, 1982). F. H. Underhill, {d-0}Conservatism=socialism=anti-Americanism,{d-1} Journal of Liberal Thought (Ottawa), 1 (summer 1965): 101-5.

Behind the Dr Charles S. Curtis Memorial Hospital at St Anthony, Nfld, stands a rock face bearing six brass tablets. One locates the ashes of Sir Wilfred Grenfell, the British physician whose extraordinary accomplishments in Newfoundland and Labrador embraced the building of hospitals, orphanages, schools, and small industries where none had existed before. The tablet registers Grenfell{apos}s life without any conventional Christian iconography or sentimental language, giving only a name, a date, and an inscription, {d-0}Life is a Field of Honour.{d-1} Grenfell was one of the last of the spiritual adventurers, the manly Christians who carried the code of service into the remote places of the earth at a time when such a philosophy of life was still possible.

Wilfred Grenfell and his three brothers were raised in the village of Parkgate, where their father, a Church of England minister, was headmaster and proprietor of Mostyn House, a boarding school for boys. In 1879 Wilf was sent to Marlborough College, a tough public school that encouraged the social and religious attributes of masculinity advocated by such writers as Thomas Carlyle, Charles Kingsley, and Thomas Hughes. The young Grenfell revelled in the physicality of the school{apos}s regime, but his father grew dissatisfied with the progress of his studies and in 1881 took him to read with a private tutor for the London matriculation while the young man pondered what he might do with his life. He considered the army, then the church. During an interview with the village doctor in Neston, he became consumed with the idea of being a physician, and in February 1883 he entered the London Hospital Medical College. At the same time, his father, who was growing unstable under the stresses of school life, leased Mostyn House and accepted the chaplaincy of the London Hospital, where his condition worsened. In 1885 he was committed to an asylum, and two years later he died by his own hand.

At this stage, Wilfred already showed tendencies for which he would later be recognized. Although he enjoyed medicine, especially the diagnostic techniques of Sir Andrew Clark and the surgical practices of Frederick Treves, he often absented himself from lectures and gave much of his spare time to cricket, rugby, and rowing. He also played football for Richmond. He filled out his schedule by running a gymnasium and a Sunday school out of his house. During vacations, he organized summer camps in Wales for boys from London{apos}s East End. {d-0}He always aimed at the big things in life,{d-1} wrote his fellow student Dennis Halsted. {d-0}The details … he left to others less competent.{d-1} By publishing his own account of his accomplishments in the Review of Reviews (London), he exhibited another aspect of his personality: the need to publicize and promote his work.

More profound was a religious experience Grenfell claims to have had in 1885, during his second year of medicine. As he returned one night from treating a case in Shadwell (London), he was drawn to a tent meeting conducted by the American evangelists Dwight Lyman Moody and Ira David Sankey. Moved by their simple formula for living the Christian life, he went away convinced that he ought to devote his energies and medical training to what Jesus would have done if he had been a doctor. At a subsequent meeting, when the call came to {d-0}stand up{d-1} for Christ, he did so, determined to dedicate his life to practical service. In January 1888 he attained a licence from the Royal College of Physicians and conjoint membership in the Royal College of Surgeons. He then spent the fall term to no apparent purpose at Queen{apos}s College, Oxford, where he earned blues for athletics. Though licensed, he failed the bachelor of medicine examination set by the University of London.

Meanwhile, something significant was happening. Treves had suggested to Grenfell that he put his training to use as a physician with the Mission to Deep Sea Fishermen, the newly formed society that operated among the North Sea fishing fleet and for which Treves himself was the medical adviser. This physical and practical challenge suited Grenfell perfectly and gave him an opportunity to preach the gospel. In its earliest days, the mission regarded itself primarily as an evangelical organization and only secondarily as a philanthropic and medical agency. By the end of 1887 it had eight smacks at sea and a growing corps of lay and ordained evangelists. In 1889 Grenfell, at 24, was appointed its first superintendent with responsibility for fleet maintenance. After establishing himself at Yarmouth, he recognized that on-shore facilities, such as a fishermen{apos}s institute and a library, were also needed. Once again he exhibited a talent for publicity and made regular contributions to the mission{apos}s monthly journal, Toilers of the Deep … (London), where he dramatized the society{apos}s spiritual and medical work. At this stage he was becoming knowledgeable not only about medical treatment at sea but also about advocacy, fishing, markets, and the toilers themselves. Unfortunately, his devotion to fieldwork led to neglect of his office duties, and in 1891 the mission{apos}s council appointed a separate fund-raising secretary.

That year, at the request of the Newfoundland government, the council sent one of its members, Francis John Stephens Hopwood (later Lord Southborough), to investigate living and working conditions in the fishing industry. His findings dramatically changed the mission{apos}s priorities. Hopwood was astounded by the deplorable living conditions in the migratory Labrador fishery, which was carried out by approximately 25,000 men, women, and children - Newfoundlanders who occupied temporary habitations with few essentials. In St John{apos}s he suggested that the mission might send a hospital ship the following summer to provide basic medical care and distribute clothing. Back in London, he chose his words more carefully, presenting the expedition to Labrador as an {d-0}experiment.{d-1} In February 1892 the council decided to send Grenfell and the mission-ship Albert. Once it had been refitted for ice conditions, he got under way on 15 June.

Throughout the first summer, the Albert, flying the mission{apos}s distinctive blue flag, visited many remote Labrador harbours, where Grenfell treated the full range of illnesses among the fishing population. At the same time he handed out clothing and religious tracts and held prayer meetings as far north as the Moravian mission station of Hopedale. As he proceeded, the enormous potential for Christian service took shape in his mind. He wrote to London to express his conviction that the experiment should become an annual feature - even a branch - of the mission{apos}s work. By the time he arrived back in St John{apos}s in October, he had seen over 900 patients, and no doubt remained about the direction his life would take. Moreover, the government of Newfoundland was prepared to erect and furnish two small hospitals and make a grant for their upkeep. Working through a local committee that included Samuel Blandford* and Augustus William Harvey*, the commercial interests of St John{apos}s had pledged cash and houses for two hospitals if the mission provided the medical personnel.

Once the council had approved the venture, Grenfell returned to the Labrador coast with a medical staff for the summer of 1893, and hospitals were set up at Battle Harbour and Indian Harbour. On this voyage he piloted the steam-launch Princess May as far north as Nain, where he and his colleagues were greeted by the Moravian superintendent, Carl Albert MARTIN. Throughout the summer he encountered a population without adequate food, clothing, or medical treatment for several months of the year. Without consulting the mission, Grenfell then decided to take his annual leave to raise money in the larger Canadian cities. In Montreal he received a warm reception from such figures as Sir John William Dawson*, the recently retired principal of McGill University, and Sir Donald Alexander Smith*, who had worked in Labrador with the Hudson{apos}s Bay Company. But by the time he returned to London in the spring, he had realized that the mission was not fully behind him since the costs were steadily rising. The Canadian government had also proved resistant, rejecting requests from the British Board of Trade and Grenfell for assistance in erecting a hospital on the north shore of the Gulf of St Lawrence. A group of Montreal supporters, including Smith and Thomas George Roddick*, nonetheless refitted the steam-yacht Sir Donald for Grenfell{apos}s use.

During the winter of 1895, Grenfell finished his first book, Vikings of to-day; or, life and medical work among the fishermen of Labrador (London and New York), which established a pattern for other titles to follow. He walked a fine line between travel literature and promotion in order to bring Labrador before a general readership. Already he had moved past the requirements of a simple medical service and had embraced social problems that were beyond the reach of the Newfoundland government. Still not convinced, in 1896 the council ordered him to stay in England while it considered his future, but he went back to Newfoundland anyway. After leaving St John{apos}s in the Sir Donald in June 1896, he called at Englee, on the Northern Peninsula, where he witnessed shocking hunger and deprivation, including a lack of fishing equipment. With a view to reforming the colony{apos}s credit system, which always left the fishermen at a disadvantage, he experimented with a small cooperative store at Red Bay, Labrador.

While spending the next two seasons in the United Kingdom to oversee the mission{apos}s initiatives, Grenfell persuaded a naval architect to draw up without charge plans for a steamer to be dedicated to the Labrador work. The plans called for a wooden-hulled vessel, but by the time construction started in 1898 it had become a steel-hulled hospital ship. The Strathcona, 97 feet overall, was launched in June 1899. Grenfell assumed he would take it to Labrador under his own command, but his Board of Trade certificate authorized him to sail nothing more than a yacht, so the council registered the vessel under the Merchant Shipping Act and brought over a qualified crew from Newfoundland to sail it back the following summer. Meanwhile, Grenfell was sent unexpectedly to Newfoundland in the fall of 1899 to replace one of his physicians. He then seized upon the idea of building a year-round hospital at St Anthony to treat the scattered population of Newfoundland{apos}s French Shore. Thus, without any decision by the council, the mission in effect opened a branch on the Northern Peninsula; during the winter of 1899 Grenfell operated from the house of a local merchant. Once again, the mission was left to respond to the enthusiasms of its errant superintendent.

With expenses mounting, the mission insisted that greater assistance should come from North America. By so doing, it presented Grenfell with a platform for his own organization. He had made his first lecture tour of the United States in 1896. During his fund-raising trips through Canada and the eastern states in 1901 and 1902, he became more aware of the immense potential of American and Canadian philanthropy. In 1903 he met a useful ally, William Lyon Mackenzie King*, the deputy minister of labour in Ottawa, who opened doors to the Canadian bureaucracy. King also introduced him to the writer Norman McLean Duncan*, who would become one of his earliest promoters. Grenfell{apos}s public lectures on Labrador created such interest, especially in New York, that he rapidly became idealized in the press as a saintly figure, a rugged individual intent on doing practical good works. The image was enlivened by Grenfell{apos}s theatrical side and his boyish impulsiveness. Articles appeared in magazines aimed at Christian readers, and he was endorsed by Lyman Abbott, the influential Congregational clergyman who advanced in Outlook (New York) the rising reputation of Grenfell as a heroic, adventurous doctor. {d-0}If there is any better preaching of the Gospel of Christ in the world than this we do not know it,{d-1} he wrote in 1903. By then Grenfell had opened the hospital at St Anthony and started a fox farm and a sawmill there; he was also weighing the merits of an orphanage and more fishermen{apos}s cooperatives. Inevitably, however, he was losing touch with the mission in London, which now considered handing over the whole enterprise to a joint Canadian-American committee before its financial resources were drained.

As a result of Grenfell{apos}s advocacy, associations bearing his name had sprung up in Boston and Toronto. From 1903 a quarterly magazine, Among the Deep Sea Fishers (New York), published his articles and opinions as well as lists of donors. In 1905 The harvest of the sea … (New York), his second book on Labrador, came out and Norman Duncan produced Dr. Grenfell{apos}s parish; the deep sea fishermen (New York), which together with Duncan{apos}s journalism created a wider audience. A third association was founded in New York with a board of directors who placed a stamp of liberalism on Grenfell{apos}s work, which was becoming less evangelical and leaning more towards the Social Gospel theology of the United States.

In the summer of 1905, with the assistance of King, Grenfell unsuccessfully approached the Canadian government for a grant to build a hospital at Harrington Harbour, Que., near the Labrador coast. He secured a gift for its construction from the daughters of Montreal brewer Andrew Dow while, in Ottawa, King succeeded in his push for an annual maintenance grant. To Harrington Harbour he sent Henry Mather Hare, a Halifax surgeon with missionary experience in China, and he presented the task of funding the hospital to the new Grenfell association in Montreal. The following year he persuaded Jessie Luther, a Rhode Island artist and occupational therapist who had worked at Hull House (a centre of social activism in Chicago), to teach crafts at St Anthony in order to develop an industry for local women. The arrival of Dr John Mason Little* in 1907 also enhanced the Grenfell mission{apos}s medical reputation. An orphanage had been opened in 1906. As a result of these ventures, public accolades flowed, overwhelming the complaints of such seasoned missioners as Michael Francis Howley*, archbishop of St John{apos}s. At the urging of King, Governor General Lord Grey* recommended Grenfell for the king{apos}s birthday honours list, and in 1906 he duly became a CMG. The next year the University of Oxford made him an honorary doctor of medicine, the first such degree it had awarded.

In the winter of 1908-9, during another lecture trip in the United States, he was received as a hero. As he returned from England the following spring aboard the Mauretania, to accept honorary degrees from Harvard University and Williams College in Massachusetts, his life took a sudden shift when he met Anna MacClanahan of Lake Forest, Ill., and resolved to marry her. After putting in a summer on the Labrador coast, he journeyed to Chicago for their wedding in November at Grace Episcopal Church. (Though Grenfell would remain an Episcopalian, his religious outlook was ecumenical.) He went back to St Anthony with his bride in January 1910 to take up residence in a new house. Anne, as she spelled her name, installed herself as his private secretary, editor, and adviser, and it soon became clear that the pace of Grenfell{apos}s life would not be as frantic. In 1910 she gave birth to Wilfred Thomason Jr, who would be followed two years later by Kinloch Pascoe and in 1917 by daughter Rosamond Loveday. Accordingly, with three children to raise, she spent most of each year at Swampscott, Mass.

Grenfell might have become domestic, but he did not slacken his efforts. The council in London soon learned of his latest initiatives, especially the expensive new seamen{apos}s institute he was building in St John{apos}s in 1910-11. The time seemed appropriate for it to withdraw from Newfoundland and Labrador. Consequently, in 1913, a new organization, the International Grenfell Association, was formed with branches in Britain, the United States, and Canada to oversee and regulate the corporate side of what had become known as the Grenfell Mission. Incorporated in January 1914, the IGA convened its first meeting at the Harvard Club of New York City.

Following the outbreak of World War I, Newfoundland began to experience financial hardship. The price of fish dropped considerably, and the costs of basic foodstuffs rose. At the same time, the Grenfell Mission{apos}s expenses climbed and donations decreased. On the positive side, in 1915 Dr Henry Locke PADDON, Grenfell{apos}s lieutenant in Labrador, opened a cottage hospital at North West River, and Dr Charles Samuel Curtis*, who would assume the management of the St Anthony hospital, appeared on the Labrador coast as a summer volunteer. That same year Grenfell, who wanted to go overseas, joined the Harvard Surgical Unit in support of the Royal Army Medical Corps, with the temporary rank of major. He arrived at the front in January 1916 and remained until late March.

In 1917, on the Newfoundland front, he weathered the most serious challenge to his legitimacy thus far, an inquiry headed by magistrate Robert T. Squarey. A group of merchants and traders had complained of the mission{apos}s supposed competition in trade, its degrading representation of Newfoundlanders as paupers, and its reliance on American capital. Squarey exonerated the Grenfell association. Moreover, as the war drew to a close, Grenfell{apos}s accomplishments in northern Newfoundland and Labrador continued to attract donors and volunteers. Once the conflict had ended, the time seemed propitious for Grenfell to put his story on paper and thereby supplement his dwindling personal income. With Anne{apos}s help, A Labrador doctor … (Boston and New York, 1919), a Puritan-style spiritual autobiography with an emphasis on the Grenfell Mission and its role in hastening {d-0}the coming of Christ in Labrador,{d-1} appeared and became a commercial success. The mission{apos}s labours certainly did not abate. At St Anthony a new brick orphanage was erected in 1922 and there were plans for a new hospital. The following year, throughout the field 24,731 patients were treated, 1,186 of them as inpatients.

Numerous public and professional honours followed, and in 1928 the students of the University of St Andrews in Scotland elected him lord rector, a largely ceremonial position he assumed in November 1929. In March of that year he had suffered a severe angina attack. He cancelled all his engagements and, with his wife, turned to the sanitarium run by Dr John Harvey Kellogg at Battle Creek, Mich. Still the mission{apos}s nominal superintendent - he was back in St Anthony that summer - he relied all the more on Anne{apos}s ability to manage the family{apos}s affairs. His production of two more books, Forty years for Labrador (Boston and New York, 1932) and The romance of Labrador (New York and London, 1934), required her heavy involvement. Further attacks drained his energy, and he experienced pain doing practically everything except walking. On Anne{apos}s initiative, they built a summer house on Lake Champlain in Vermont, where they would retire in 1935. He nonetheless remained committed to the mission and thought he could still influence affairs in Newfoundland. In 1934 he supported the formation of a government by commission [see Frederick Charles ALDERDICE] and was urged to consider the governorship. In January 1936 he finally wrote to the directors of the IGA to resign from the management of the mission{apos}s work. His ankles were swollen and he suffered losses of memory. To make matters worse, Anne had developed a malignant tumour. They took up residence in a cottage on St Simons Island, Ga, where Grenfell endured one health episode after another.

Sir Wilfred Grenfell{apos}s idealism and energy brought to the west and north coasts of Newfoundland, as well as to the south coast of Labrador, modern medical institutions and industrial and educational centres that raised the standard of living in those regions. Having carried them through the period of commission government, the Grenfell Mission was absorbed by the province following confederation in 1949. Meanwhile, the International Grenfell Association perpetuated itself to manage the funds raised by its founder over the years. Through the IGA and in countless testimonies Grenfell long continued to be held up as an example of beneficence. British travel writer Bruce Chatwin, for instance, confessed in an autobiographical essay that as a child in the 1940s he had three precious possessions, one of them The fishermen{apos}s saint (London, 1930), Grenfell{apos}s rectorial address at St Andrews. American novelist Saul Bellow also admired him: a character in his Henderson, the rain king (New York, 1959) tells us that {d-0}Forty years ago, when I read his books on the back porch, I swore I{apos}d be a medical missionary.{d-1}

Conrad Kirouac was the son of a well-to-do merchant in the Eastern Townships. He would have five sisters and five brothers, but the latter would all die in early childhood; he himself would suffer from terrible ill health that seriously hampered his activities. When he was five years old his family moved to Saint-Sauveur ward in the Lower Town of Quebec, where his father joined F. Kirouac et Fils, a flour and grain business founded by François Kirouac, Conrad{apos}s grandfather. Conrad took all his schooling with the Brothers of the Christian Schools, first at the elementary school in Saint-Sauveur, and then from 1898 at the Académie Commerciale de Québec. His teachers made a strong impression on him, and when he finished his studies, standing first in his class, he decided to enter the community of the Christian Brothers despite the opposition of his father, who wanted him to become a merchant, or at the very least a priest. On 8 June 1901 he was admitted to Mont-de-La-Salle, the brothers{s-1-unknown} novitiate in Maisonneuve (Montreal). In August he adopted his religious name, Marie-Victorin. Mont-de-La-Salle was on the exact site of the future Montreal Botanical Garden, which Marie-Victorin was to found 30 years later.

In the spring of 1903 Marie-Victorin received his first teaching appointment to the brothers{s-1-unknown} school in Saint-Jérôme. He was assigned a fifth-year class, but was then transferred to a fourth-year class because of his difficulties as a new instructor. On 7 June, with the summer holidays drawing near, Marie-Victorin started a diary that he would continue to keep until 1920. Afflicted with tuberculosis, he suffered his first bout of haemorrhaging in December. It was during his convalescence that he made the great discovery of his life: botany. Armed with an old book, Flore canadienne … by Abbé Léon Provancher*, published in Quebec City in 1862, he explored the surrounding area, starting in May 1904, in order to begin learning about plants. A true passion was born.

At the same time, under the pseudonym M. son Pays, Marie-Victorin contributed to the column {d-0}Billet du soir{d-1} in the newspaper Le Devoir from 10 Sept. 1915 to 26 June 1916. A superb stylist, he sang the praises of nature and the glory of French Canadian traditions. Two stories he submitted to a competition organized by the Société Saint-Jean-Baptiste de Montréal won prizes: {d-0}La croix de Saint-Norbert{d-1} in 1916 and {d-0}La corvée des Hamel{d-1} in 1917. Since his stories were very well received, he published nine of them in a single volume in 1919, under the title Récits laurentiens. The following year he brought out Croquis laurentiens. These two works, which were illustrated by Edmond-Joseph Massicotte* and published in Montreal, flaunted his ambition to arouse in French Canadians both national pride and the desire to take possession of their land. At the same time, they revealed nostalgia for a simpler era when the Roman Catholic clergy were universally respected and guided their flocks for the good of all.

If as an author he willingly turned towards the past, as a self-taught botanist he would always concentrate on building the present and preparing for the future. A voracious reader, by March 1906 he had devoured every issue of Le Naturaliste canadien published since 1871. Thus he made his entry directly into the ever-changing world of contemporary science and learned about recent discoveries, ongoing controversies, and still-unsolved problems. As well, he gradually familiarized himself with the identification of plants and the principles of classification. Brother Rolland-Germain, a sturdy Burgundian who had come from his native France in 1905, was his guide at the outset and then became a diligent co-worker. Taking advantage of every free moment to collect plants in the Montreal region, Marie-Victorin felt sufficiently confident by 1908 to write his first scientific article, which Le Naturaliste canadien published in its May issue. Significantly, it was entitled {d-0}Addition à la flore d{apos}Amérique.{d-1} In May of the following year a second piece, {d-0}Contribution à l{apos}étude de la flore de la province de Québec,{d-1} appeared in the same publication. He now evinced a slowly growing urge to revise the catalogue of plants in French Canada from beginning to end. Though just a beginner, Marie-Victorin fully understood the extent to which the science of botany was lacking in the province of Quebec. After an outstanding start, thanks to the great explorers of New France, interest had gradually waned, and since the work of Abbé Provancher little or nothing had been done.

Far from letting himself be paralysed by this barrenness, Marie-Victorin undertook a program of exchanging samples and information with recognized specialists around the world. Among these correspondents he found his mentor, the famous American botanist Merritt Lyndon Fernald, who had explored much of the province of Quebec. Fernald agreed to take his young colleague under his wing, and this influence would pervade his protégé{apos}s work. Also significant was his meeting in 1912 with Francis Ernest Lloyd, a professor of botany at McGill University. An immediate friendship sprang up between the two men. Lloyd lent Marie-Victorin Principles of breeding … (Boston, 1907) by the American agronomist Eugene Davenport. Curiously, it was in this treatise on livestock breeding that Marie-Victorin gleaned knowledge about the science of genetics, which was then still in its infancy.

Initiated by the Moravian monk Gregor Johann Mendel around 1865, genetics had been in decline and then in 1900 was revived by the work of the Dutch botanist Hugo De Vries. For Marie-Victorin this science was a discovery of capital importance not only for his future work, but also immediately, because scarcely had he become aware of this new discipline when he saw in it a decisive weapon against the bête noire of the Catholic Church: Charles Darwin{apos}s theory of natural selection. Marie-Victorin thought he had found a flaw. Darwin postulated that the modifications observed in the succession of species appeared only in the long term, and that the survival of the fittest is an extremely slow and lengthy process. Now, as De Vries and others had clearly demonstrated, genetics brought to light some very rapid modifications, mutations that appeared from one generation to the next. In June 1913 Marie-Victorin published, again in Le Naturaliste canadien, {d-0}Notes sur deux cas d{apos}hybridisme naturel: mendélisme et darwinisme.{d-1} With this article he believed he had delivered a fatal blow to Darwinism. His reasoning was simple. Genetics presents an empirical science verifiable by various experiments, but there will never be an experiment to confirm the truth of natural selection. Consequently, the latter theory must fade away. Here he showed an aplomb he never lost.

Meanwhile, Marie-Victorin continued to ponder his plan to undertake a botanical survey of French Canada. When the Quebec Society for the Protection of Plants from Insects and Fungous Diseases announced, in its annual report for the year 1911-12, that it was considering reprinting Abbé Provancher{apos}s Flore canadienne, Marie-Victorin rebelled against this idea. Given that since the end of the 19th century nomenclature had evolved, previously inaccessible regions had been opened up, and new species had been recorded, what was needed, in his view, was a new plant guide based on modern scientific principles. He did not make an official announcement to this effect, but the society quietly abandoned its project.

Marie-Victorin breathed more easily and tackled his botanical project more systematically, for the inventory was far from finished. For him, to give a name to what makes up a country was truly to take possession of it. Heretofore, it had been mainly the English and Americans who undertook to explore the territory of the province, a situation he deemed in urgent need of correction. He went on more and more excursions during which he collected, classified, and listed species. Sometimes, when he was able to identify previously unknown species through perseverance, he even named them. For instance, in the summer of 1913 (most of his exploring was done during the summer holidays since he was a teacher), he went with Brother Rolland-Germain to Témiscouata. An area still unexplored by botanists, it yielded them some 50 new species. Marie-Victorin thus had an opportunity to send specimens to Fernald, both to confirm his identifications and to tell him about his plan for a new Quebec plant guide. Fernald congratulated him, but also warned that what he had in mind would be a very large-scale work, scarcely conceivable as an initiative by one person alone. At the same time, Fernald continued to welcome his explorations very warmly, and they stepped up their scientific collaboration. In 1915 and 1916 Marie-Victorin published in Le Naturaliste canadien a series of articles about his expeditions and then organized them in a single volume. Entitled La flore du Témiscouata: mémoire sur une nouvelle exploration botanique de ce comté de la province de Québec, it came out in Quebec City in 1916, the year he won a prize for {d-0}La croix de Saint-Norbert.{d-1} The collection was the first work devoted to this unstudied region. It not only foreshadowed the forthcoming general plant guide, but brought Marie-Victorin his earliest renown in the sciences. His fame grew in 1918 when he published {d-0}La flore de la province de Québec{d-1} in the Revue trimestrielle canadienne (Montréal).

The beginning of the 1920s brought great changes to Marie-Victorin{apos}s life. Stifling under the yoke of the Université Laval in Quebec City for too long, the Montreal campus had won full autonomy in 1919 and became the Université de Montréal. Quickly and efficiently, it set up faculties and chairs of instruction in preparation for the beginning of classes in September 1920. For the chair of botany, only one name came to everyone{apos}s mind: Marie-Victorin. No matter that he had no university degree and had educated himself by whatever means came to hand - he had already shown proof of his strengths. Since 1908 he had published 39 scientific pieces on the flora of Quebec - notes, articles, and a large work - as well as some 60 articles for the general reader. Moreover, he was already recognized by his peers abroad and by people at home. The university immediately made him an associate professor. Very attached to his students at the secondary level, Marie-Victorin continued to teach them on a half-time basis at the school in Longueuil until 1928, for his new status did not make him lose sight of his main concern: to raise the level of education of his own people, regardless of their academic attainment. He could no longer accept the prevailing spirit of resignation, in which one settled for blissfully preparing for eternal life, leaving control of temporal life to the {d-0}Anglais.{d-1} It was time to shake off the chains, {d-0}or else,{d-1} he would say in 1940, {d-0}we will never be a people worthy of the name and we will always remain a tribe of hacks and servants, a caste of drones in the hive of civilized humanity.{d-1}

Marie-Victorin{apos}s university career was also his most productive period. Installed in rather makeshift fashion in the basement of the university on Rue Saint-Denis downtown, he both taught and introduced students to research, for to him the two were absolutely inseparable. (In 1931 he would rename his Laboratoire de Botanique an institute to draw attention to this vital connection.) In 1921 he read some works by Father Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, a Jesuit at odds with his order, which enabled him to understand that the theory of evolution was not at all in conflict with the teachings of the church. It would be many years, however, before he would publicly acknowledge this new conviction. He did so in 1929, when he was abroad, as a delegate to the convention of the British Association for the Advancement of Science at the University of Cape Town, South Africa. On 22 July he gave a presentation in English on the evidence for evolution in the flora of the American northeast. It was the first time the word {d-0}evolution{d-1} had appeared in his writings.

Meanwhile, in 1922, having received a dispensation from taking all the courses normally associated with the award of a PHD, Marie-Victorin successfully defended his doctoral dissertation on ferns, which was entitled {d-0}Les filicinées du Québec.{d-1} He now became a tenured professor. He was also one of the founders of the Association Canadienne-Française pour l{apos}Avancement des Sciences (ACFAS) in 1923 and its first secretary, with Dr Léo-Erol Pariseau as the first president. That year he also set up the Société Canadienne d{apos}Histoire Naturelle, and made it the botanical section of the ACFAS. He served as its secretary and then as its president from 1925 to 1940. In 1931, on his initiative, the society would create the Cercles des Jeunes Naturalistes, founded by Brother Adrien Rivard and destined to be a resounding success. All these organizations obvious