Chapter III: Front Matter (3)

“How do you manage to keep up in all the studies?” I asked. “Do you carry text-books around with you in your pockets?”

“Yes, and I always have. I study all the time. I have acquired several languages in that way.”

“When do you prepare your sermons?”

“I have never prepared a lecture or a sermon in my life, and I have lectured for thirty-seven years. I seldom use even notes. When in the pulpit, I rivet my attention on preaching, and think of nothing else.

“Application in the most severe form, and honesty, are the means by which true success is attained. No matter what you do, do it to your utmost. You and I may not do something as well as someone else, but no stone should be unturned to do it to the best of our individual ability. I have had a varied life, and many experiences, and I attribute my success, if you are so pleased to call it, to always requiring myself to do my level best, if only in driving a tack in straight.”

XLV

An Inspiring Personality Wins a Noted Preacher Fame.

ONE of the brightest examples of early success in life is Frank W. Gunsaulus, D.D., one of the sincerest friends of young men striving to climb upward, that America has produced. Chicago has helped him, and he has helped Chicago, to do great things. During his six years of ministry in that city, before he left the pulpit and became president of Armour Institute, he founded two notable institutions and raised over $7,000,000 in money for charitable purposes. On the stormiest of Sunday evenings, after a newspaper announcement that he will speak, an audience two thousand five hundred strong will gather to hear him. It was not an uncommon sight, during one of his series of winter sermons, for men anxious to hear the splendid orator, to be lifted through windows of Central Music Hall, when no more could get in at the doors. His most conspicuous labor has been the founding of the famous Armour Institute of Technology, which now has twelve hundred students, and of which he is the president.

CAN A PREACHER BE A POWER?

I found him in the president’s office of Armour Institute.

“Do you think,” I said, “that it is more difficult for a preacher to become a power in a nation than it is for a merchant, a lawyer, or a politician?”

“Rather hard to say,” he answered. “There are prejudices against and sympathies in favor of every class and profession. I think, however, that a preacher is more like a doctor in his career. He is likely to make a strong local impression, but not apt to become a national figure. Given powerful convictions, an undertaking of things as they are to-day, and steady work in the direction of setting things right, and you may be sure a man is at least heading in the direction of public favor, whether he ever attains it or not.”

“How did you manage to do the work you have done, in so short a time?”

“In the first place, I don’t think I have done so very much; and, in the second place, the time seems rather long for what I have done. I have worked hard, however.

“I thought to be a lawyer in my youth, and did study law and oratory. My father was a country lawyer at Chesterfield, Ohio, where I was born, and was a member of the Ohio Legislature during the war. He was a very effective public speaker himself and thought that I ought to be an orator. So he did everything to give me a bent in that direction, and often took me as many as twenty miles to hear a good oration.”

MEN WHO INFLUENCED HIM.

“I admired Fisher Ames, to begin with, and, of course, Webster. I think Wendell Phillips and Bishop Matthew Simpson, whom I heard a few times, had the greatest influence on me. I considered them wonderful, moving speakers, and I do yet. Later on, Henry Ward Beecher and Phillips Brooks attracted my admiration.”

“Did you have leisure for study and time to hear orations when you were beginning life?”

“In early years I attended the district school. From the twelfth to my eighteenth year, I worked on the farm and studied nights. For all my father’s urgings toward the bar, I always felt an inward drawing toward the ministry, because I felt that I could do more there. My father was not a member of any church, though my mother was an earnest Presbyterian. Without any prompting from my parents, I leaned toward the ministry, and finally entered it of my own accord. I was fortunate enough to find a young companion who was also studying for the ministry. We were the best of friends and helped each other a great deal. It was our custom to prepare sermons and preach them in each other’s presence. Our audience in that case, unlike that of the church, never hesitated to point out errors. The result was that some sermons ended in arguments between the audience and the preacher, as to facts involved.”

HE DID NOT PRETEND TO PIETY.

“I was graduated from the Ohio Wesleyan Seminary in debt. I had no reputation for piety, and I don’t remember that I pretended to any. I had convictions, however, and a burning desire to do something, to achieve something for the benefit of my fellowmen, and I was ready for the first opportunity.”

“Was it long in coming?”

“No, but you would not have considered it much of an opportunity. I took charge of a small church at Harrisburg, Ohio, at a salary of three hundred and twenty dollars a year. In preaching regularly I soon found it necessary to formulate some kind of a theory of life,—to strive for some definite object. I began to feel the weight of the social problem.”

ARE THE DICE OF LIFE LOADED?

“One important fact began to make itself plain, and that was that the modern young man is more or less discouraged by the growing belief that all things are falling into the hands of great corporations and trusts, and that the individual no longer has much chance. My father had been more or less of a fatalist in his view of life, and often quoted Emerson to me, to the effect that the dice of life are loaded, and fall according to a plan. My mother leaned to the doctrine of Calvin,—to predestination. I inherited a streak of the same feeling, and the conditions I observed made me feel that there was probably something in the theory. I had to battle this down and convince myself that we are what we choose to make ourselves. Then I had to set to work to counteract the discouraging view taken by the young people about me.”

“You were a Methodist, then?”

“Yes, I was admitted to preach in that body, but it was not long before I had an attack of transcendentalism, and fell out with the Methodist elder of my district. The elder was wholly justified. He was a dry old gentleman, with a fund of common sense. After one of my flights, in which I advocated perfection far above the range of humankind, he came to me and said: ‘My dear young man, don’t you know that people have to live on this planet?’ The rebuke struck me as earthly then, but it has grown in humor and common sense since.

“I left voluntarily. I knew I was not satisfactory, and so I went away. I married when I was twenty. I preached in several places, and obtained a charge at Columbus, Ohio.”

A MINISTER’S TRUE IDEAL.

“When did you begin to have a visible influence on affairs, such as you have since exercised?”

“Just as soon as I began to formulate and follow what I considered to be the true ideal of the minister.”

“And that ideal was?”

“That the question to be handled by a preacher must not be theological, but sociological.”

“How did this conviction work out at Columbus?”

“The church became too small for the congregation, and so we had to move to the opera house.

“My work there showed me that any place may be a pulpit,—editorial chair, managerial chair, almost anything. I began to realize that a whole and proper work would be to get hold of the Christian forces outside the ecclesiastical machine and get them organized into activity. I was not sure about my plan yet, however, so I left Columbus for Newtonville, Massachusetts, and took time to review my studies. There I came under the influence of Phillips Brooks. When I began once more to get a clear idea of what I wanted to do, I went to Baltimore, on a call, and preached two years at Brown Memorial Presbyterian Church.

“I came to Chicago in 1872. Plymouth Church offered an absolutely free pulpit, and an opportunity to work out some plans that I thought desirable.”

HIS WORK IN CHICAGO.

“How did you go about your work in this city?”

“The first thing that seemed necessary for me to do was to find a place where homeless boys of the city who had drifted into error and troubles of various kinds could be taken into the country and educated. I preached a sermon on this subject, and one member gave a fine farm of two hundred and forty acres for the purpose. Plymouth Church built Plymouth Cottage there, and the Illinois Training School was moved there, and other additions were made, gradually adding to its usefulness.”

“The church grew under your ministration there, did it not?”

“You can leave off that about me. It grew, yes, and we established a mission.”

“Was there not a sum raised for this?”

“Yes; Mr. Joseph Armour gave a hundred thousand dollars to house this mission, and the church has since aided it in various ways.”

“This Armour Institute is an idea of yours, is it not?”

“Well, it is in line with my ideas in what it accomplishes. It is the outcome of Mr. Armour’s great philanthropy.”

“Do you find, now that you have experimented so much, that your ideals concerning what ought to be done for the world were too high?” I asked.

“On the contrary,” answered Dr. Gunsaulus, “I have sometimes felt that they were not high enough. If they had been less than they are, I should not have accomplished what I have.”

“What has been your experience as to working hours?”

“I have worked twelve and fourteen, at times even eighteen hours a day, particularly when I was working to establish this institution, but I paid for it dearly. I suffered a paralytic stroke which put me on my back for nine months, and in that time you see I not only suffered, but lost all I had gained by the extra hours.”

HOW TO MEET GREAT EMERGENCIES.

“You believe in meeting great emergencies with great individual energy?”

“There doesn’t seem to be any way out of it. A man must work hard, extra hard, at times, or lose many a battle.”

“You have mingled in public affairs here in Chicago, also, have you not?”

“Yes, I have always tried to do my share.”

“You believe the chances for young men to-day are as good as in times gone by?”

“I certainly do. That is my whole doctrine. The duties devolving on young men are growing greater, more important, more valuable all the time. The wants of the world seem to grow larger, more urgent every day. What all young men need to do is to train themselves. They must train their hands to deftness, train their eyes to see clearly, and their ears to hear and understand. Look at the call there is going to be upon young men when this country will be organizing its new possessions and opening up new fields of activity. What the world needs is young men equipped to do the work. There is always work to be done.”

“You think, in your own field, there is a call for energetic young men?”

“It never was greater. A young preacher who looks around him, studies the conditions, finds out just a few of the ten thousand important things that are going begging for someone to do them, and then proceeds to work for their accomplishment, will succeed beyond his wildest dreams.

“The world looks for leaders, it looks for men who are original, able and practical; and all I have got to say to a young man is simply to find out clearly all about a need in a certain direction, and then lead on to the alleviation of it. Money, influence, honor, will all follow along after, to help.”

XLVI

From the Forge to the Pulpit, a Life of Devotion and Application.

“SO you want me to tell you of myself,—to ‘blaw my ain harn,’ as we used to say in old Yorkshire. Well, I’m not in love with the undertaking, for what we call a self-made man usually shows that he has made a pretty poor fist of it when he begins to describe the job himself. However, if an outline of my life be of service, I give it gladly. The beginning was in the hamlet of Ilkley, Yorkshire, England, seventy-five years ago. I was born well; that is, I was born of simple, hard-working folk who inspired in me very early a hearty respect for work. My mother was a noble woman. I can see the old home now,—the bit of grass in front, the plum tree, the whitewashed walls, and within, the two rooms with floor of flags, the old prints on the walls, the highly polished chairs and bureau, the tall clock that was always too fast at bedtime and in the morning, and always too slow at mealtime, the little shelf of books,—Bunyan, ‘Robinson Crusoe,’ Goldsmith, and the Bible, full of pictures. Until I was eight years old, I went to school to old Willie Hardie, who tried to find in me the spring of what we called the humanities in the same way that they used to try to locate a spring of water, namely: with a hazel rod.”

THE RIVALS: BOOKS AND THE MAIDEN.

“All the schooling I ever had under the master was finished in my eighth year, when I went to earn my own living in a linen factory. There was an article of faith in our good home creed about which both my father and mother were of one mind,—the boys must learn a trade. So, after six years in the factory, I was apprenticed to the village blacksmith. I was a hard-working, conscientious boy, but full of mischief and fond of fun. I had, however, a ravenous appetite for books. I remember once, when quite small, I stood for a long time before a shop window with a big English penny in my hand, debating whether I should spend it for a particular kind of candy, of which I was very fond, or for a little paper-covered book of travels. At length I went in and bought the book. At meals I used to read, and even when I was courting the lass whom I made my wife, I read all the books in her father’s house. I am surprised she did not give me the mitten, and it would have served me right, too.

“Books were not only pleasing to me, but were my passion. Give a young man or maiden a passion for anything,—for books, business, painting, teaching, farming, mechanics or music, I care not what, and you give him or her a lever with which to lift their world, and a patent of nobility, if the thing they do is noble. So I call my reading my college course. It was not an adequate college nor an adequate course, and there have been times when I felt a trifle sad that there should have been no chance for me at a good, all-round education. But there is a chance in the everlasting hunger to read books, and it is with reading as it is with eating,—you grow choice when there is a plenty. You instinctively learn to distinguish what is sweet and wholesome and what is neither, and then you read as you eat,—only the best.

“A great sorrow came to me in 1849. As a result of it, I found my way into a Methodist meeting house, and began to express what I felt. From a few words, uttered standing by my seat in the meeting, I began to preach at irregular intervals; and when I did, it became the custom, after a while, for some one to go through the village, ringing a bell and calling out: ‘The blacksmith is going to preach this morning.’ The working people came to hear me because I was one of themselves. Then they would have me preach regularly,—at nothing a Sunday and find myself.

“Sometimes I would forget the flight of time and preach for two hours or more. As I look back upon the poor mortals who sat under my ministrations for such a length of time, I am reminded of the judge who, when asked how long a sermon ought to last, replied: ‘About twenty minutes, with leanings to the side of mercy.’”

THE LIGHT THAT LED OVER THE SEA.

“My only worldly ambition was to make my way as a blacksmith, but one day there came to me in a flash the thought that I must go to America, where I would have to bow to no class, but would be as good a man as any. Many times in my life these sudden burstings of light, half thought, half feeling, have come to me; and, when they do come, I cease to reason about the matter. I simply obey the impulse with all the power of my will. It would have taken tremendous difficulties to have kept me from embarking for this country after the flash came, and so, one fine spring morning in 1850, I and my little family, with our small store of worldly goods, went aboard the old ship ‘Roscius,’ made ourselves as comfortable as we could in the steerage, and a month later were in New York.

“I had made up my mind to settle in the vicinity of Philadelphia, and there I soon found work at the anvil. It was lucky I did, for, when we reached our destination, my whole capital amounted to only about twenty dollars. We made ourselves a little home, and I worked at my trade for the next nine years, except during the panic of 1857, when I carried the hod and broke stone on the turnpike for a dollar a day. Meanwhile, I was preaching o’ Sundays, again at nothing a Sunday. In 1859, I was asked to devote myself altogether to preaching,—to go to Chicago as a minister to the poor. Well, I went. I said good-by forever to the anvil, in whose ringing voice I had heard so many years the old sermon on the nobility of work.”

GENIUS IS DEVOTION AND APPLICATION.

“Before I had been in Chicago a great while, some people got together and built a church, and appointed me pastor of it, hardly so much as saying to me ‘by your leave.’ It was named the Unity Church, and I remained in charge of it till 1879, when I came to New York to preach in the Church of the Messiah.

“Here I have since remained. My life, you see, is divided into two sections,—forty years in the pulpit, twenty-one years at the anvil. I have worked on long lines, and I will say to young men that, when your homes and your schools have done all they can for you, and you begin the work of life, you must take hold with a will and be content to work hard on long lines. People say that such and such a person has genius for what he or she takes in hand, and that is the secret of the success attained. But I say that genius means strong devotion and steadfast application. You may imagine that you can go from the bottom to the top of the ladder at one jump, but it is not true. Going up the ladder at one jump is like the toy monkey that goes up at a jump and comes down head first. The men and women who achieve true success are all hard climbers. They work in one direction. Our course must not be like a cow-path, all over the pasture and into the woods, for that may mean through the woods into the wilderness.

“I want to say, too, that, if we expect to do well in this life, we must keep well, by all the means in our power;—eat well, and sleep well eight hours out of the twenty-four. Young men should choose, as early as they can, a good and true woman for a wife, and look forward to a noble family of children. My ambition was to have seven, and the all-wise Father gave me nine. If a young man has good mental and physical health and works hard, his life will be sweet and clean. He will do his day’s work well and his life’s work well, and at the end he will be able to say, with Adam in the play:—

“‘Though I look old, yet am I strong and lusty,
For in my youth I never did apply hot and rebellious liquors to
my blood,
And did not with unbashful forehead woo
The means of weakness and debility.
Therefore my age is lusty winter, frosty, but kindly.’”

XLVII

Canada’s Leading Conservative Extols “the Country of the Twentieth Century.”

THOUGH he lost his fight against Sir Wilfrid Laurier for the Premiership of Canada in the general election of 1904, Robert Laird Borden is still one of the Dominion’s important figures.

He is in the prime of life. He has conspicuous ability, remarkable energy and an indomitable will. What a man with this combination of qualities sets his mind upon he usually obtains. Mr. Borden freely acknowledges his ambition to reach the top notch of political success, and there are a great many Canadians who believe that he will yet be Premier.

His party, in spite of his defeat, has strong faith in him, and his opponents, now triumphant, admit that he is formidable—a menace to their continuing success. They feel that under the scrutiny of Borden, who is notably quick to detect weak spots in the armor of the enemy, and to drive home strong thrusts, they must put their best foot front. Thus, even in defeat, Mr. Borden is a power.

My first impression of him was obtained in Montreal. He was walking through a hotel rotunda with the long, swift strides that bespeak much physical energy. His head was bowed and his eyes were knit. He struck me at the moment as being a personification of determination and concentration. It was a little later, in his room, that I had my talk with him. Mr. Borden’s head is large. His brow rises straight up from heavy brows and eyes which are deep-set and rather small, and twinkle with shrewdness and good nature. The lower part of his face is heavy, indicating the strength of will and purpose which have carried him to the front in Canadian politics.

“I am much interested in success,” he said with a smile. “Indeed, the air in Canada nowadays is charged with it. We have a feeling that a far larger part of the success of Canada lies in the future rather than in the past. While the United States developed more in the nineteenth century than any other country in the world, we believe that Canada will show similar industrial advances within the next quarter of a century. We entertain the idea that ours will prove to be the country of the twentieth century. It is not yet as widely known as it should be that we have a somewhat larger area in land than the United States and that this land is not rendered sterile by the winter reign of the mythical personage called ‘our lady of the snows,’ but is capable of remarkable productivity.

“We are looking forward and not backward, and therefore I am not particularly interested in the unimportant events of long ago; but if you must know, I will say that I was born in the village of Grand Pre, in Nova Scotia, in 1854. Some of my ancestors had lived in the United States. One of them, my great-grandfather, was the law partner of Pierpont Edwards, in New Haven, Conn. They had one of the largest practices in that section of the country, but when the Revolutionary War broke out my forefather remained loyal to King George. He migrated with his family to Nova Scotia, and there the family has since remained.

“Yes, my village is the one which Longfellow has described in his poem ‘Evangeline’; and yet, taking full advantage of his poetical license, Longfellow put much in his picture that is purely imaginary. It is, however, a little community whose inhabitants lead the simple life, acquire robust physiques, and strong opinions of right and wrong.

“I know of no better environment than one like this for the passing of the days of early youth. The impressions stamped on the mind of a boy by such people and surroundings never forsake him. However different from the simple beliefs of these villagers his standpoint may eventually become, these first teachings remain what might be called the oak rafters of his philosophy.

“I feel that not a little of whatever I have achieved is due to the fact that the years of my boyhood and youth were spent in an environment of simplicity. I was an industrious student, and when I was about fourteen I was made a teacher in the Acadia Villa Academy in my native country. It was in this school that I had obtained my preliminary education, and I presume I did right in returning to the institution as teacher the modicum of knowledge I had acquired. When I was still in my teens I went to the United States and became an instructor in Glenwood Institute in New Jersey. This proved to be excellent training for me. I think that an experience of this kind is one of the best things in the world for a young man, for the reason that the necessity in it to command others teaches him the more easily to command himself. It increases his dignity, self-reliance and self-respect.

“I decided, however, that I did not care to make teaching my life work, and so I returned to Nova Scotia in 1874 and began the study of law in the offices in Halifax of the firm of Weatherby & Graham. In 1878 I was called to the bar and a few months afterwards was offered a partnership by J. P. Chapman, of Kentville, now a county court judge.

“Together we worked up quite a large practice, but owing to certain circumstances I entered the firm of Thompson, Graham & Tupper. It was not long afterward that the senior member of the firm, Sir John Thompson, became judge of the Supreme Court, and in the course of time Sir Charles Tupper, one of the other members, was called to the cabinet of Sir John A. McDonald. Subsequently Mr. Graham, the third member of the firm, became Judge in Equity for the Province of Quebec.

“I believe that a large part of anything I have achieved has been due to the fact that I was associated with able men during the impressible period of young manhood. While I did not realize it at that time, I have often thought since that one of the most fortunate circumstances in my life was my close contact with these men. By this means I not only absorbed a greater knowledge of the law than otherwise would have been the case, but also became imbued with certain principles that I have always retained.

“The calling of these gentlemen to high places under the Government left me to the position of senior partner, and the firm name eventually became Borden, Ritchie, Parker & Chisholm. We did a large business, and on the strength of this I was elected and held for several years the position of president of the Nova Scotia Barristers Society. It was in 1896 that I first entered politics, representing Halifax as the Conservative party’s candidate for the Dominion Parliament.”

“To what in particular, Mr. Borden,” I inquired, “do you attribute the fact that you speedily arose to leadership of your party in Parliament?”

Mr. Borden pondered a moment, and then said:

“I can hardly answer that question, but I will say that perhaps the influence I have been able to gain in Parliament has been due to the fact that I have had very strong convictions on all public questions, and have let slip few opportunities to express them. I am usually able to maintain the positions I take in argument, for the reason that I am always careful to fortify myself with facts and with as extensive a general knowledge of the subject as possible before going into a debate or going before the House on any particular issue.

“I believe I have the reputation of being a hard worker. However this may be, I will say that I have always made it a rule to give painstaking attention to seemingly unimportant details in my legal cases, and have frequently won them on this account. This habit, acquired in my youth, of looking after small matters, has made it much easier for me to take care of the large affairs of my clients and of my party since I have entered politics. I know of no surer road to both general and political success than the obvious highway of hard work, coupled, of course, with common sense.

“While the law is the profession which most naturally leads the young man into the political arena, I always like to see the farmer in politics, for the reason that the latter usually has a certain strong simplicity and a degree of sense that often discounts and renders weak in comparison the learning and polish of the professional man. The farmers will be the dominating class in the development of the Northwest, and I hope to see more and more of them in politics.”

In his contact with his fellow-men Mr. Borden’s manner is marked by a quiet dignity and cordiality that has won him many friends. While he has numerous political enemies, there are few men in the Dominion who are as popular personally. Mr. Borden likes to meet and exchange views with the average citizen. A little story is told of him in his recent campaign which is characteristic. It seems that he was on a night journey on a train and could not sleep. A like wakefulness afflicted a young man in the same car, and at midnight they found themselves together in the smoking compartment. Talk began at once, and throughout the dragging hours these two discussed the great questions of the day. The young man, who had just returned from the States, did not recognize his companion, and the next morning in Montreal he remarked to his friends upon his very interesting fellow-traveler of the night before. He said that they had chiefly talked politics and that his acquaintance had been so convincing that he had been won over to the Conservative party. He described his fellow-passenger, and very much to his astonishment was informed that the latter was Mr. Borden himself.

XLVIII

An Eminent Scholar Advocates the Union of Canada and the United States.

CANADA’S “grand old man” is Professor Goldwin Smith. With all his opinions Canadians do not agree, but they are united in their admiration for his qualities as a man and a scholar. A mention of his name brings an expression of liking and pride to the face of every intelligent resident of the Dominion. A mention of his well-known belief that Canada and the United States will eventually be one brings a smile which well expresses the average Canadian’s feeling that their leading philosopher’s idea of the union of the great commonwealths is too abstract and remote to arouse alarm in the patriotic breast.

In spite of this difference of opinion the people of the Dominion highly appreciate Professor Smith’s notable attainments as a student and a writer. They realize that from his vantage point of long residence in both England and the United States, as well as in Canada, and from his careful and enlightened study of the problems of these countries, his outlook is perhaps broader than that of any other man in Canada. Professor Smith, now in his eighty-first year, lives in an ideal way in his Toronto residence, The Grange. It was here that I called on him.

The Scotch lodgekeeper and his wife, in their quaint little home at the gate, were quite in keeping with the air of dignified calm which enfolds The Grange. The house, standing well back in the grounds, is representative of the best architecture of a century ago. It suggests reminiscence and contemplation. It has the mellow atmosphere of the past. When approaching it along the gravel walk you feel that you have left behind the hurly burly of everyday life; that this is a most fitting abode for one who stands apart from the crowd to watch the currents of life flow by.

As the house is, so is the man. Tall, slender and a trifle bent in figure, with a thin ascetic face, Professor Smith impressed me as a man who contemplates calmly and critically, but with a very kindly eye, as from high ground, the agitations and excitements of the times. I made a remark to him as to the quietude of his surroundings.

“Yes, I am very fond of the old place,” he replied, his eyes kindling with interest. “I am proud of it. You have noticed that all of the woodwork is black walnut, which was the prevailing mode in interior decorations in the early part of the nineteenth century. I have permitted nothing to be changed. I am fond of old things, perhaps, because I am old myself.”

“Your activities make it rather difficult to believe that statement,” I said.

“Well, I have always tried to retain a youthful spirit,” answered Professor Smith, with the engaging smile which is characteristic of him, “and I have been able to keep a fair amount of physical vigor by means of plenty of exercise and regularity in my mode of living. I have always been very fond of walking, and have done a great deal of it. While I am not as industrious in this respect as I used to be, I make a point of driving out in my carriage every afternoon. I rarely let anything interfere with this, because it has a tendency to give me new vitality both in spirit and body.”

“While your house is old, Professor Smith,” I remarked, “this country in which you live, Canada, is young.”

“Yes, we have not progressed as rapidly as the United States; we are yet, in many respects, a people of beginnings. Canadians look forward to the future with very optimistic spirit. We see possibilities of great industrial and agricultural development.”

“The average Canadian does not look as far into the future as you do yourself.”

“No, perhaps not,” smilingly replied Professor Smith. “I believe that the great majority of our people are not at all in sympathy with my opinion that Canada will eventually become a part of the United States. I have, however, long held this belief. It has been my idea for many years that the whole continent of North America should be, and will be eventually, given up to republican institutions. It has been said of me that I left Great Britain in order to be able to live in the republican atmosphere of the New World. While this is not altogether true, I am wonderfully interested in the great experiment of a government by the people which is now being tried by the United States.

“I think the experiment will prove a success, and that in the end all of the commonwealths on this side of the Atlantic will come sufficiently under the influence of this form of government to embrace it. The Old World powers are by degrees losing their dependencies in the New World. I long ago said, for example, that Spain’s hold upon Cuba was becoming weaker and weaker, and would sooner or later become altogether relaxed. I believe that this is likewise true of Great Britain in her relationship with Canada. A wide ocean divides the mother country from her great colony in North America, while merely an artificial boundary line divides us from the powerful republic to the South.

“The bond between Canada and the United States is gradually becoming closer in spite of the little intervening frictions which from time to time arise. I am aware that many Canadians express an antipathy for the United States, but this amounts to little more than talk. Young Canadians have been for many years seeking opportunities in the United States, and at the present time many thousands of agriculturists from the Western States are annually migrating into our Northwest to take advantage there of the productivity of the virgin soil. Numerous American capitalists are investing their money on our side of the line, and thus the commercial connection is constantly becoming closer.

“As a matter of fact, there is in some particulars more intimate union between Canada and the United States than between some of our own provinces. I have often said to my friends that the beginning of wisdom in regard to Canada is the realization of the fact that the natural avenues of traffic and communication lie north and south rather than east and west. We must remember that between various parts of the Dominion nature has set up very formidable barriers, great lakes, high mountains, and wide expanses of uncultivated territory. We must not forget, furthermore, that there are two distinct races in Canada, different in religion, sympathies and general characteristics. Thus it will be seen that without compactness in territory and without a homogeneous spirit among the people, Canada is not a united country. She needs the United States and, by the same token, the United States needs Canada. While I don’t expect to see it in my own time, I feel justified in prophesying that the passing years of the twentieth century will bring an equal union between our country and the States. Together they will rise to greater heights of power, influence and civilization than any nation has yet attained.

“I like to see Canadians go to the United States and I like to see young Americans come to Canada. A young man should always have courage to seek the fields which seem to be most promising for him. I am inclined to think that a changed environment is a stimulus to his energy and ambition. A knowledge of the different sections certainly gives him a broader outlook and adds materially to his equipment for the battle of life.”

XLIX

After Failure as a Grocer, He Becomes the Ablest Administrator Quebec Has Ever Had.

“THE busiest man in Canada,” exclaimed a friend in close touch with the government, when I told him that I desired to meet the Hon. S. N. Parent, Premier of the Province of Quebec.

“Parent, you know,” continued my informant, “is not only Premier of the Province, but is also mayor of the City of Quebec, minister of lands, mines and fisheries, president of the company that is building a seven-million-dollar bridge across the St. Lawrence, director in the Quebec Railway Light and Power Company, director in the Grand Trunk Railway, and a lawyer with the largest practice in the Province.”

This information as to his surprising range of activities, bespeaking a man of remarkable achievement, made me more than ever anxious to talk with Mr. Parent, and I said so to my friend.

“Well,” he exclaimed, “the premier is personally one of the most approachable men alive, but all day long in the ante-rooms of his various offices there are crowds waiting to see him. He never appears in the streets of Quebec on foot, but always in his cab, for the simple reason that if he were walking so many persons would stop him that he would be hours getting to his destination. His lieutenants hedge him in, but once past them you are all right.”

“What would be a good time and place to call on him?”

“In answer to that I will give you an outline of his movement for his business day, and you may judge for yourself. Promptly every morning at half-past seven he arrives at his law office in Lower Town and sees clients there until ten o’clock, when he goes to the City Hall to take up his work as Mayor. Here he keeps in close touch with every detail of city administration.

“It has been said that not a nail is driven on public property without his knowledge. This, of course, is an exaggeration, but it is the truth that he is the first mayor Quebec has had in sixty years who has been able to run the municipal government without an annual deficit in the treasury. And yet with all his economy he has instituted numerous public improvements. On the strength of this work for Quebec he has several times been reëlected Mayor and has held the office for eleven years.

“After an hour at the City Hall he is driven to Parliament House, where he transacts the business of the Province until half-past one. Here, in addition to his general work, he gives special attention to the land and fisheries department, which he has made the most important in the provincial government. He has so developed it that it yields a larger income than any other.

“Mr. Parent takes a light luncheon at half-past one, and remains in Parliament House until four o’clock, when he returns to his law office, where he gives himself up to cases and to his financial interests until seven. Now comes a dinner which is hardly more hearty than his luncheon, and after this he attends the meetings of committees, which assemble in the evening chiefly to suit his convenience. This schedule is as regular as clockwork. The Premier makes a point of letting nothing interfere with it. Exactly at the times and places I mention you can find him.”

Armed with this knowledge, and with a letter of introduction, I sought the Premier at the House of Parliament—a stately building of massive stone, standing out against the sky on the heights of the “Gibraltar of America,” and commanding a huge panoramic view of the Lower Town, of the St. Lawrence and St. Charles rivers, of the Isle of Orleans, the wide valley of St. Anne and the sweeping lines of the Laurentian Mountains.

The ante-room was crowded, as I had been told it would be, but an attendant at once took in my letter and almost immediately returned.

“The Premier cannot see you to-day,” he said, “but will be very glad to meet you at this office at twelve sharp to-morrow. If you would accept a little word of advice,” he added, official manner giving way to French-Canadian courtesy, “I would say that it would be well to be exactly on time. By five minutes past twelve, if you are not here, the Premier will be engaged with some one else, and then your opportunity will be gone. He never spends time in waiting. This is what you might call one of his peculiarities.”

I was on time. At precisely twelve an official passed out of the inner room and I was invited in. As the Premier swung about in his chair with the quick glance and motion that are characteristic with him, I saw a man with a high forehead, a prominent nose, keen gray eyes and a small mustache. His age is fifty-three, but he appears much younger.

“I am interviewing the most successful men in Canada,” I said, “and so, naturally, have called on you.”

Mr. Parent smiled, with a slight shrug of his shoulders, but made no comment.

“Would you mind telling me how you made your start toward success?”

The light of reminiscence came into the Premier’s eyes and his smile was more pronounced. After a very brief pause he said:

“You flatter me by the use of that word success; but if you want to know how I began my career I will assure you that I began it with a failure. My father was a merchant across the river in Beauport, where I was born, and before I was old enough to appreciate how much I did not know I branched out into business for myself. I started a grocery store. It failed, and I decided that I was unfit to be a successful grocer.

“A fair education gained at the normal school enabled me to obtain a place in a law office of S. B. Langois here in Quebec. After I had been with him a short time he strongly advised me to take up law as a profession. I was beginning to feel a pronounced inclination in this direction, and, stimulated by his encouragement, I began to study hard. I took the course at Laval University, and after graduation commenced to practice chiefly at first in the police courts.

“Gradually my clients increased in numbers and my cases in importance. Politics had always interested me. I became somewhat active in this field, and, although I have never tried to practice the art of oratory, for which I have no gift, I was elected to the County Council of Quebec in 1890. Three years later I was made Mayor of the city and not long afterwards Premier of the Province. My career since then has been largely official and a matter of record.”

“It is said that you have given the province and the city the best business administration they have ever had. You know more about business now than when you ran the grocery store, for instance.”

“Oh, yes,” laughed Mr. Parent, “a great deal more. For one thing, I have learned that the price of a business success is eternal vigilance. I have found that the only way to conduct affairs of a municipality along strictly business lines is to watch the committees—to watch their every move. It is in these bodies that the financial leaks are most likely to occur. Not having to carry the main responsibility for public expenditures, committees are inclined to be too generous, too confident of the resources of the treasury. I have no doubt that this is as true in your country, the United States, as in Canada.

“We have ten committees which are meeting constantly. During the eleven years I have been in office I have not missed a single meeting, which is one of the main causes, I think, of whatever success I may have had as a public administrator.”

“Your position as the representative of a large population of both French and English must have its difficulties,” I remarked.

“These are not nearly as great as you might imagine,” quickly replied the Premier. “I don’t pretend to try to please everybody, but I do try to treat all alike. I myself, as you know, am of French descent. French was the language of my childhood, but whether a man is English, or Scotch, or French-Canadian, whether he is a Protestant or Catholic, has absolutely no weight with me in my attitude toward him in the discharge of my official duties.

“We French hold to our language and customs because we are proud of them, but there is complete sympathy between the two races in the Province of Quebec. The Anglo-Saxon Canadian admires the French-Canadian because of his honesty, industry and thrift, and the latter admires the former for virtues too numerous to mention. A union between the two, already close, is constantly becoming closer, and it gives me pleasure to think that perhaps I have done something to advance this movement for the common good.

“We are all working for the prosperity and progress of the province and city of Quebec. In this connection the possibilities are so great that even if we were inclined to racial prejudices, which is not true, we would realize that we could not afford to entertain them.

“Quebec is on the threshold of a new era. The great bridge across the St. Lawrence will bring important improvements in the railroad facilities of the city. The harbor, already one of the finest in existence for vessels of large tonnage, will be made even better by the extension of the dock system and by other projects now in hand. The Grand Trunk Pacific Railway, which is about to be built across the continent, will have its eastern terminus at Quebec, and will bring to us for export to the markets of the world a vast quantity of the products of the great Northwest. All this will mean a remarkable stimulus to our city.

“As for the province as a whole, the fertility of the soil, particularly in the neighborhood of Lake St. John, warrants the prediction that it will become the granary of Eastern Canada. The enormous water powers within our boundaries, harnessed for the generation of electricity, will mean the rise of many industries. There is, moreover, an immense wealth of money to be gathered from the many thousands of miles of territory which offer pulp wood for paper making. Year by year the pulp industry is extending, but it is as yet at the very beginning of its development. It will bring many millions of dollars to the province and its people. Young men now at the outset of their careers will grow rich from the new industrial activities.

“But in Quebec we have not yet been educated up, or down, to the idea that the most desirable thing in the world is wealth. We have other standards of success. None of us have what would be considered from the American point of view great riches, and we are well content that this is so. Money, of course, is an excellent thing, and we have no prejudices against its possession, but we are in no feverish haste to acquire it. For example, none of our professional men or politicians are very rich. Political life here offers practically no financial opportunities. The politician who attempted corrupt practices would find himself in an isolated position. There would be no coterie to support him. He would be subjected to adverse opinion that would quickly terminate his career. In my administration of public affairs in the province and city of Quebec there has not been, I am happy to say, five cents’ worth of scandal.

“No, as yet, at least, we are not worshippers of the golden calf. All we want in our careers and community is a healthy progress. We desire to keep the city of Quebec, for instance, abreast of the times, to infuse her veins with new blood, but certainly not at a sacrifice of the flavor of the past which makes her the most interesting and picturesque city on the continent. We respect the old, and intend to keep it and the new in harmonious balance.”

“How were you impressed with Mr. Parent?” inquired my friend when I informed him that I had had my interview.

“Excellently well,” I answered.

“I knew you would be. He is a high grade man, and is very representative of the French-Canadians of this generation. He believes in progress, but not in haste. He has good intentions, and the ability to carry them out. He is much more of a listener than a talker, but when he says a thing, or makes a promise, you may depend upon it.”

“You have found, haven’t you, that his political opponents admit that they respect him? I thought so. It has been said here in Quebec that in his character there is the combination of the canniness of the Scot, the progressive energy of the Englishman, the conservatism and sentiment of the French-Canadian, and the geniality of the Irish gentleman.”

L

Canada’s Leading Economist Tells Her Sons To Seek Fortune in Her Own Domain.

SIR WILFRID LAURIER, Premier of Canada, said that in matters pertaining to railways the Hon. Andrew George Blair was the Dominion’s greatest authority. Whenever in Canada you mention the name of Mr. Blair, whether among his friends or political opponents, the comment is,—an able man.

Since his entrance into political life in 1878, after twelve years of notably successful practice as a lawyer in his native city of Fredericton, New Brunswick, he has continually risen. Though defeated in his first candidacy for the New Brunswick House of Commons, he was elected the second time he ran, in 1879, and since then has always been victorious at the polls.