The Canadian Community
To understand the political evolution of Canada it is essential to
begin with a study of the elements of Canadian society. Canadian
constitutionalists would have written to better purpose, had they
followed the example of the Earl of Durham, in whose Report the
concluding practical suggestions develop naturally from the vivid
social details which occupy its earlier pages, and raise it to the
level of literature. In p
oneering communities there is no such thing
as the constitution, or politics, per se; and the relation between
the facts, sordid and mean as they often are, of the life of the
people, and the growth of institutions and political theories, is
fundamental.
Canadian society, in 1839 and long afterwards, was dominated by the
physical characteristics of the seven hundred miles of country which
stretched from Quebec to the shores of Lake Huron, with {9} its long
water-front and timid expansion, north and south; its forests
stubbornly resisting the axes of the settlers; its severe extremities
of heat and cold; the innumerable inconveniences inflicted by its
uncultivated wastes on those who first invaded it; and the imperfect
lines of land communication which multiplied all distances in Canada at
least four-fold. It was perhaps this sense of distance, and difficulty
of locomotion, which first impressed the settler and the visitor. To
begin with, the colony was, for practical purposes, more than a month's
distance from the centre of government. Steam was gradually making its
way, and the record passage by sailing ship, from Quebec to Portsmouth,
had occupied only eighteen days and a half,[1] but sails were still the
ordinary means of propulsion, and the average length of voyage of 237
vessels arriving at Quebec in 1840 was well over forty days.[2] To the
immigrant, however, the voyage across the Atlantic was the least of his
troubles; for the internal communications of Canada left much to be
desired. The assistance {10} of railway transportation might be
entirely ignored,--as late as 1847 only twenty-two miles of railway
lines had been laid and worked.[3] There was, of course, during the
open season, the wonderful passage by river and lake into the heart of
the continent; although the long winter months broke into the
regularity of the traffic by water, and the St. Lawrence rapids added
to the traveller's difficulties and expenses. Even the magic of a
governor-general's wand could not dispel the inconveniences of this
simplest of Canadian routes. "I arrived here on Thursday week,"
grumbled Poulett Thomson, writing from Toronto in 1839. "The journey
was bad enough; a portage to Lachine; then the steamboat to the
Cascades, twenty-four miles further; then road again (if road it can be
called) for sixteen miles; then steam to Cornwall forty miles; then
road, twelve miles; then, by a change of steamers on to Lake Ontario to
Kingston, and thence here. I slept one night on the road, and two on
board the steamers. Such, as I have described it, is the boasted
navigation of the St. Lawrence!"[4] For military purposes there was
the alternative route, up the Ottawa to Bytown, {11} and thence by the
Rideau military canal to Kingston and the Lakes. On land, progress was
much more complicated, for even the main road along the river and lake
front was in shamefully bad condition, more especially when autumn
passed into winter, or when spring once more loosened up the roads.
There is a quite unanimous chorus of condemnation from all--British,
Americans, and Canadians. One lively traveller in 1840 protested that
on his way from Montreal, he was compelled to walk at the carriage side
for hours, ankle-deep in mud, with the reins in his hands, and that,
with infinite fatigue to both man and beast, he accomplished sixty
miles in two days--a wonderful performance.[5] In the very heart of
the rebellion, W. L. Mackenzie seems to have found the roads fighting
against him, for he speaks of the march along Yonge Street as over
"thirty or forty miles of the worst roads in the world"; and attributes
part of the disheartening of his men to what one may term
mud-weariness.[6] Local tradition still remembers with a sense of
wonder that Sydenham, eager to return to his work in Lower Canada, once
travelled by sleigh {12} the 360 miles from Toronto to Montreal in
thirty-six hours.
Off the main routes, roads degenerated into corduroy roads, and these
into tracks, and even "blazed trails "; while, as for bridges, cases
were known where the want of them had kept settlers who were living
within three miles of a principal town, from communicating with it for
days at a time.[7] And, as the roads grew rougher, Canadian conditions
seemed to the stranger to assert themselves more and more offensively,
animate and inanimate nature thrusting man back on the bare elements of
things. The early descriptions of the colony are crowded with pictures
of wretched immigrants, mosquito-bitten, or, in winter, half dead with
cold, struggling through mud and swamp, to find the land whither they
had come to evade the miseries of civilization, confronting them with
the squalor and pains of nature. Far into the Victorian era Canada,
whether French or British, was a dislocated community, with settlements
set apart from each other as much by mud, swamp, and wood-land, as by
distance. Her population, more particularly in the west, was engaged
not with political ideals, but in an incessant struggle {13} with the
forests; and the little jobs, which enabled the infant community to
build a bridge or repair a road at the public expense, must naturally
have seemed to the electors more important items of a political
programme than responsible government or abolition of the clergy
reserves. No doubt, in the older towns and cities, the efforts of the
earlier settlers had gained for their sons leisure and a chance of
culture; yet even in Toronto, the wild lands were but a few miles
distant, and, as Richardson saw it, London was "literally a city of
stumps, many of the houses being still surrounded by them."
Straggling along these 700 miles, although here and there concentrated
into centres like Quebec, Three Rivers, Montreal, Kingston, and
Toronto, was a population numbering well over a million, which from its
internal divisions, its differences in origin and disposition, and its
relation to the British government, constituted the central problem at
the time in British colonial politics. The French population formed,
naturally, the chief difficulty. Thanks to the terms of the surrender
in 1763, and the policy of Dorchester, a unit which called itself la
nation Canadienne had been formed, nationalite had become a force in
Lower {14} Canada, imperfectly appreciated even by the leaders of the
progressive movement in England and Western Canada. In the Eastern
townships, and in Quebec and Montreal, flourishing and highly organized
British societies existed. The Rebellion had found sturdy opponents in
the British militia from the townships, and the constitutional
societies of Quebec and Montreal expressed, in innumerable resolutions
and addresses, the British point of view. But Lower Canada was for
practical purposes a French unit, Roman Catholic in religion, and, in
structure, semifeudal. In the cities, the national self-consciousness
of the French was most conspicuously present; and leaders like
Papineau, La Fontaine, and Cartier proved the reality of French culture
and political skill. Below the higher classes, Durham and Metcalfe
noticed that in Lower Canada the facilities given by the church for
higher education produced a class of smaller professional men, from
whose number the ordinary politicians and agitators were drawn. To the
church they owed their entrance into the world of ideas; but apparently
they were little more loyal to the clergy than they were to Britain.
"I am led to believe," wrote Metcalfe in 1845, "that the influence of
the clergy is not predominant, {15} among the French-Canadian people,
and that the avocat, the notary, and the doctor, generally disposed to
be political demagogues, and most of them hostile to the British
government, are the parties who exercise the greatest influence.
Whatever power the clergy might have acting along with these
demagogues, it would, I fear, be slight when exercised in opposition to
them."[8]
These active, critical, political groups were not, however,
representative of French Canada. So long as their racial pride
remained unhurt, the French community was profoundly conservative. It
was noticed that the rebels of 1837 and 1838 had received no support
from the Catholic priesthood; and in a country where the reverence for
that ancient form of Christianity was, in spite of Metcalfe's opinion
to the contrary, profound, it was unlikely that any anti-religious
political movement could make much permanent headway. Devoted to their
religion, and controlled more especially in education by their
priests,[9] the habitants formed the peculiar people of the American
continent. Education flourished not at all among {16} the rank and
file. Arthur Buller found the majority of those whom he met either not
able to write, or able to write little more than their names.[10] The
women, he said, were the active, bustling portion of the habitants,
thanks to the admirable and yet inexpensive training to be had in the
nunneries. As for the men, they farmed and lived as their fathers had
done before them. They cleared their land, or tilled it where it had
been cleared, and thought little of improvement or change. M'Taggart,
whose work on the Rideau Canal, made him an expert in Canadian labour,
much preferred French Canadians to the Irish as labourers, and thought
them "kind, tender-hearted, very social, no way very ambitious, nor
industrious, rarely speculative."[11] To the Canadian commonwealth,
the French population furnished a few really admirable statesmen; a
dominant and loyal church; some groups of professional men,
disappointed and discontented sons of humble parents, too proud to sink
to the level of their uninstructed youth, and without the opportunity
of rising higher; and a great mass of men who hewed wood and drew
water, not for a master, but for themselves, {17} submissive to the
church, and well-disposed, but ignorant, and at the mercy of any clever
demagogue who might raise the cry of nationalism. Still, when
nationality remained unchallenged, the French-Canadians were at least
what, till recently, they remained, the most purely conservative
element in Canada.
The second element, in point of stability and importance, in the
Canadian population was that of the United Empire Loyalists, the
remnants of a former British supremacy in the United States. They had
proved their steadfastness and courage by their refusal to accept the
rules of the new republic; and their arrival in Canada gave that
country an aristocracy of Anglo-Saxon origin to counterbalance that of
the seigneurs on the Lower St. Lawrence. The men had in many cases
been trained to arms in the revolutionary war, and they served a second
and perhaps a harder apprenticeship in the Canadian forests. They had
formed the centre of resistance to American attacks in the war of 1812.
Their sons and grandsons had once more exhibited the hereditary loyalty
of the group, in resisting the rebels of 1837-38; and Metcalfe, who was
their best friend among the governors of the United Provinces, justly
{18} looked on them as the most conspicuous examples of devotion to
connection with the British Empire, and loyal subjection to the
Crown.[12] Robinsons, Cartwrights, Ryersons, and a score of other
well-known families, proved, generation after generation, by their
sustained public capacity, how considerably the struggle for existence,
operating on sound human material, may raise the average of talent and
energy. The tendency of the Loyalists to conservatism was, under the
circumstances, only natural. Their possession, for a time, of all the
places in Upper Canada which were worth holding, was the consequence of
their priority in tenure, and of their conspicuous pre-eminence in
political ingenuity. Critics of a later date forgot, and still forget,
in their wholesale indictment of the Family Compact, that the Loyalist
group called by that name had earned their places by genuine ability.
If, like other aristocracies, they found it hard to mark the precise
moment for retirement before the rise of democracy, their excuse must
be found in their consciousness of high public spirit and their
hereditary talents for administration.
Politically and socially one may include among the Loyalists the
half-pay officers, from both {19} navy and army, whom the great peace
after Waterloo sent to Canada, as to the other colonies; and certain
men of good family, Talbots or Stricklands, who held fast by English
conservative tradition, played, where they could, the English gentleman
abroad, and incidentally exhibited no mean amount of public spirit.
Conspicuous among these was Colonel Talbot, who had come to Upper
Canada with Simcoe in 1793, and became there an erratic but energetic
instrument of empire. "For sixteen years," says Mrs. Jameson, writing
with a pardonably feminine thrill after a visit to the great man, "he
saw scarce a human being, except a few boors and blacks employed in
clearing and logging his land; he himself assumed the blanket coat and
axe, slept upon the bare earth, cooked three meals a day for twenty
woodsmen, cleaned his own boots, washed his own linen, milked his cows,
churned the butter, and made and baked the bread."[13] Yet, as
Strickland confesses, in his Twenty-Seven Years in Canada West, there
were few Talbots. "Many high-spirited gentlemen," he says, "were
tempted by the grants of land bestowed on them by the government, which
made actual settlement one of the conditions of {20} the grant. It
followed, as a matter of course, that the majority of these persons
were physically disqualified for such an undertaking, a fact which many
deserted farms in the rear townships of the county in which I reside
painfully indicate."[14]
French Canadians and United Empire Loyalists constituted the stable
factors in Canadian public life; but the process of immigration, which
the years of rebellion checked only for a time, had by 1840 prepared
another element, and that the most incalculable and disturbing both
socially and politically. Indeed the real problem of Canadian public
life lay simply in the influence of the humbler class of immigrants on
existing administration and opinion. It was natural for the other
settlers and the governing class to regard the larger part of the new
population as beneath the political level. The very circumstances of
the emigrating process carried with them a suggestion of degradation.
Durham had embodied in his Report the more flagrant examples of the
horrors of emigration;[15] but a later review, written in 1841, proves
that many of the worst features of the old system still continued.
There were still the privations, the {21} filth and the diseases of
this northern "middle passage," the epidemics and disorders inflicted
on the Canadian community as ship-load after ship-load of poor wretches
passed ashore at Quebec. On land their sorrows were renewed, for many
of them were paupers, and there was still no organized effort to
introduce the labourer to those who required his labour. More than one
half of the 12,000 who, according to the report of 1841, passed in that
year through Bytown locks, were considered objects of charity. Many of
them were common labourers with families, men who had little but their
physical strength as capital for the new venture; and cholera, typhus,
or smallpox had in many cases reduced even that to the vanishing point.
More especially among the Irish settlers, who, in these years and
later, fled in dismay from the distresses of Ireland, the misery
continued long after the first struggle. M'Taggart, who had his
prejudices, but who had unusually good opportunities for observation,
thought that a tenth of the poorer Irish settlers died during their
first two years in the country. He found them clumsy at their work,
accustomed to the spade and shovel, not to the axe, and maiming
themselves most fearfully, or even killing themselves, in their {22}
experiments in clearing the ground.[16] Of all who came, the
immigration agents thought the Lowland Scots and the Ulster Irishmen
the best, and while the poorer class of settler lagged behind in the
cities of Lower Canada, these others generally pushed on to find a hard
earned living among the British settlers in the Upper Province. Some
of them found their way to the United States. Others, faced with the
intolerable delays of the land administration, took the risk of
"squatting," that is, settling on wild land without securing a right to
it--often to find themselves dislodged by a legal owner at the moment
when their possession de facto seemed established. The majority
settled as small farmers in the more frequented districts, or became
shop-keepers and artisans in the towns. Politically their position was
curious. The Reform Act of 1832 had extended the British franchise,
but the majority had still no votes; and the immigrants belonged to the
unenfranchised classes. The Irish had the additional disability of
being reckoned disloyal, followers of the great Irish demagogue, and
disorderly persons until proved otherwise.[17] To government servants
and {23} the older settlers alike, it seemed perilous to the community
to share political power with them. Yet they were British citizens;
many of them at once became active members of the community through
their standing as freeholders; the democratic influence of the United
States told everywhere on their behalf; and even where hard work left
little time for political discussion, the fact that local needs might
be assisted by political discussion, and the stout individualism bred
by the life of struggle in village, town, and country, forced the new
settlers to interest themselves in politics. Many of the new arrivals
had some pretensions to education--more especially those from Scotland.
Indeed it is worthy of note that from the Scottish stream of
immigration there came not only the earlier agitators, Gourlay and
Mackenzie, but, at a later date, George Brown, the first great
political journalist in Canada, Alexander Mackenzie and Oliver Mowat,
future leaders of Canadian liberalism, and John A. Macdonald, whose
imperialism never lacked a tincture of traditional Scottish caution.
The new immigrants were unlikely to challenge the social supremacy of
the old aristocracy, but they formed so large an accession to the
population that they could not {24} long remain without political
power. They must either be granted the rights of numerical majority or
be exasperated into destructive agitation.
It is not altogether easy to describe the community or chain of
communities created out of these diverse elements. Distance, climatic
difficulties, and racial misunderstandings weakened the sense of unity
in the colony; and the chief centres of population were still too young
and unformed to present to the visitor the characteristics of a
finished civilization.
Everywhere, but more especially in the west, the town population showed
remarkable increases. Montreal, which had, in 1790, an estimated
population of 18,000, had almost trebled that number by 1844; in the
same interval, Quebec increased from 14,000 to nearly 36,000. In the
Upper Province, immigration and natural increase produced an even more
remarkable expansion. In the twenty-two years between 1824 and 1846,
Toronto grew from a village of 1,600 inhabitants to be a flourishing
provincial capital of 21,000. In the census of 1848, the population of
Hamilton was returned as 9,889; that of Kingston as 8,416; Bytown, the
future capital, had 6,275 inhabitants; while a score of villages such
as London, Belleville, {25} Brockville, and Cobourg had populations
varying from one to four thousand.[18]
Social graces and conveniences had, however, hardly kept pace with the
increase in numbers. The French region was, for better or worse,
homogeneous, and Quebec formed a social centre of some distinction,
wherein the critical M'Taggart noted less vanity and conceit than was
to be met with in the country.[19] But further west, British observers
were usually something less than laudatory. The municipal franchise in
the cities of Lower Canada, being confined to the possessors of real
estate, shut out from civic management the more enterprising trading
classes, with the natural result that mismanagement and inefficiency
everywhere prevailed. In Quebec there was no public lighting, the
community bought unwholesome water from carters who took it from the
St. Lawrence, and the gaol--a grim but useful test of the civilization
of the place--not merely afforded direct communication between the
prisoners and the street, but was so ill ordered that, according to a
clerical authority, "they who happily are {26} pronounced innocent by
law may consider it a providential deliverance if they escape in the
meantime the effects of evil communication and example."[20] While
Montreal had a better water supply, it remained practically in darkness
during the winter nights, through the lapsing in 1836 of its earlier
municipal organization.[21] Strangers were said to find the provincial
self-importance of its inhabitants irritating. At the other extreme of
the province, Mrs. Jameson found fault with the citizens of Toronto for
their social conventionalism. "I did not expect to find here," she
wrote, "in the new capital of a new country, with the boundless forests
within half a mile of us on almost every side, concentrated as it were,
the worst evils of our old and most artificial social system at home,
with none of its agremens, and none of its advantages. Toronto is
like a fourth or fifth rate provincial town with the pretensions of a
capital city."[22]
Everywhere, if contemporary prints of the cities may be taken as
evidence, the military element was very prominent, and the tone was
distinctly English. The leaders of society looked {27} to London for
their fashions, and men like John Beverley Robinson moved naturally, if
a little stiffly, in the best English circles when they crossed to
England. It was, indeed, a straining after a social standard not quite
within the reach of the ambitious provincial, which produced the
conventionalism and dullness, noticed by British visitors in Canadian
towns.
In the smaller towns or villages where pretensions were fewer, and
society accepted itself for that which it really was, there was much
rude plenty and happiness. An Ayrshire settler writing in 1845, after
an orthodox confession that Canada, like Scotland, "groaned under the
curse of the Almighty," described his town, Cobourg, as a place where
wages were higher and prices lower than at home. "A carpenter," he
writes, "asks 6s. sterling for a day's work (without board), mason 8s.,
men working by the day at labourer's work 2s. and board, 4s. a day in
harvest. Hired men by the month, 10 and 11 dollars in summer, and 7
and 8 in winter, and board. Women, 3 and 4 dollars per month, not much
higher than at home. Provisions are cheaper here than at home. Wheat,
4s. per bushel; oats 1s. 3d. and 1s. 6d per bushel; potatoes, 1s. 6d.;
beef and pork, 3d. and 4d. per {28} lb.; butter, 6d. per lb.; cheese,
6d.; tobacco, 1s. per lb.; whisky, 1s. 6d. per gallon; apples, 1s. 6d.
per bushel; tea from 2s. 6d. to 4s., and sugar, 6d. per lb.... A man
by honest industry here may live comfortably and support himself
decently--I can, I know--and save something too. We live much better
here than at home."[23]
More especially in the smaller towns, the externals must have presented
a steady and dull monotony--the jail and court-house, three or four
churches, a varying number of mean-looking stores including a liberal
proportion of taverns, and the irregular rows of private houses.
If lack of efficient public spirit, and social monotony, marked the
towns, the settlers in the bush were hardly likely to show a vigorous
communal spirit. They had their common life, building, clearing,
harvesting in local "bees," primitive assemblies in which work,
drinking, and recreation welded the primitive community together, and
the "grog-boss" became for a time the centre of society.[24] But the
average day of the farmer was solitary, and, except where politics
meant {29} bridges, roads, and material gifts, his outlook was limited
by the physical strain of his daily life, and work and sleep followed
too closely on each other's track to leave time for other things.
M'Taggart has a quaint picture of a squatter, which must have been
typical of much within the colony in 1839. He found the settler, Peter
Armstrong, "in a snug little cabin, with a wife, two children, some
good sleek grey cats, and a very respectable-looking dog. He had but
few wants, his health was aye good; there was spring water plenty just
aside him, and enough to make a good fire in winter, while with what he
caught, shot, gathered and grew in the yard, he lived well enough."
His relation to the state, secular and ecclesiastical, is best gauged
by his admission that when it came to marriage, he and his
wife--Scottish like himself--"just took ane anither's word on't."[25]
Crime, on the whole, considering the elements out of which the
community had been formed, was surprisingly little in evidence.[26] In
certain regions it had a natural fertility. Wherever the white trader
met the Indian, or rival {30} fur-traders strove in competition, the
contact between the vices of the two communities bred disorder, and
Canadian trading success was too often marked by the indiscriminate
ruin of the Indians through drink and disease.[27] At Bytown, where
the lumberers gathered to vary their labours in the bush with
dissipation, the community "was under the control of a very dangerous
class of roughs, who drank, gambled, and fought continually, and were
the terror of all well-disposed citizens."[28] Drunkenness seems to
have been a very prevalent vice, probably because whisky was so cheaply
produced; and where self-restraint was weak, and vast numbers of the
poorest classes from Britain formed the basis of society, drunkenness
was accompanied by bestial violence, or even death, in sudden and
dreadful forms.[29] But it was the verdict of a Scottish clergyman,
who played his part in pioneer work round Perth, that "considering the
mixture of worthless persons, which our population formerly contained,
it was astonishing how few crimes had been committed."
{31}
Three powerful influences helped to shape the young Canadian community
and to give it some appearance of unity--education, religion, and
politics. It now becomes necessary to examine these factors in
Canadian existence in the years prior to, and immediately after, the
visit of Durham to the colony. In religion and education, however, our
analysis must concern Upper and British Canada rather than the French
region. In the latter the existence and dominance of the Catholic
church greatly simplified matters. Thanks to the eighteenth century
agreements with the French, Roman Catholicism had been established on
very favourable terms in Lower Canada, and dominated that region to the
exclusion of practically all other forms of religious life. As has
already been shown, the church controlled not only religion but
education. If the women of the Lower Province were better educated
than the men, it was because the convent schools provided adequately
for female education. If higher education was furnished in
superabundance, again the church was the prime agent, as it was also in
the comparative neglect of the rank and file; and comment was made by
Durham's commissioners on the fact that the priesthood resented
anything which weakened {32} its control over the schools. This
Catholic domination had a very notable influence in politics, for,
after the first outbursts of nationality were over, the Catholic laity
in politics proved themselves a steadily conservative force. La
Fontaine, the first great French leader who knew how to co-operate with
the British Canadians, was only by accident a progressive, and escaped
from politics when the growth of Upper Canada radicalism began to draw
him into dangerous religious questions.[30] But in the Upper Province,
education and religion did not show this stationary and consistent
character, and played no little part in preparing for and accentuating
the political agitation.
Education had a history rather of good intentions than of brilliant
achievement. At different times in the earlier nineteenth century,
schemes for district grammar schools and general common schools were
prepared, and sums of money, unhappily not in increasing amounts, were
voted for educational purposes. But, apart from the doubtful
enthusiasm of the legislators, the education {33} of the British
settlers was hampered by an absence of suitable teachers, and the
difficulty of letting children, who were often the only farm assistants
at hand, attend school for any length of time. According to good
evidence, half of the true school population never saw the schools, and
the other half could give only seven months in the year to their
training.[31]
In most country districts, the settlers had to trust to luck both for
teachers and for schoolhouses, and beginnings which promised better
things too often ended in blank failure. There is both humour and
romance in these early struggles after education. In Ekfried, by the
Thames, in Western Canada, there had been no school, till the arrival
of an honest Scot, Robert Campbell, and the backwardness of the season
in 1842, gave the settlement a schoolmaster, and the new settler some
ready money. "I get a dollar and a half, a quarter per scholar," he
wrote to his friends in Scotland, "and seeing that the wheat did
little, I am glad I did engage, for we got plenty of provisions."[32]
In Perth, a more ambitious start {34} met with a tragic end. The
Scottish clergyman, appointed to the district by government, opened a
school at the request of the inhabitants. All went well, and a
generous government provided fifty pounds by way of annual stipend;
until a licentiate of the Anglican Church arrived. By virtue of the
standing of his church, the newcomer took precedence of the Scottish
minister and displaced him as educational leader. But, says the Scot,
with an irony, unchristian but excusable, "the school under the
direction of my clerical successor, soon after died of a consumption,
and the school-house has been for sometime empty."[33]
The main difficulty in education was to provide an adequate supply of
competent teachers. Complaints against those who offered their
services were almost universal. According to a Niagara witness, not
more than one out of ten teachers in the district was competent to
instruct his pupils even in the humblest learning,[34] and the
commissioners who reported to the government of Upper Canada in 1839
both confirmed these {35} complaints, and described the root of the
offence when they said, "In this country, the wages of the working
classes are so high, that few undertake the office of schoolmaster,
except those who are unable to do anything else; and hence the
important duties of education are often entrusted to incompetent and
improper persons. The income of the schoolmaster should, at least, be
equal to that of a common labourer."[35] In so precarious a position,
it was unfortunate that sectarian and local feeling should have
provoked a controversy at the capital of the western district. Much as
the education of the province owed to John Strachan, he did infinite
harm by involving the foundation of a great central school, Upper
Canada College, and of the provincial university, in a bitter religious
discussion. It was not until the public capacity and unsectarian
enthusiasm of Egerton Ryerson were enlisted in the service of
provincial education, that Upper Canada emerged from her period of
failure and struggle.
Apart from provincial and governmental efforts, there were many
voluntary experiments, of which Strachan's famous school at Cornwall,
was perhaps the most notable. After all, the colonists were {36}
Britons, many of them trained in the Scottish system of national
democratic education, and wherever the struggle for existence slackened
down, they turned to plan a Canadian system as like as possible to that
which they had left. Kingston was notably enterprising in this
respect. Not only were there schools for the more prosperous classes,
but attempts were made to provide cheap education for the poor, at
first supported by the voluntary contributions of ladies, and then by a
committee representative of the best Anglican and Presbyterian
sentiment. Three of these schools were successfully conducted at very
small charges, and, in certain cases, the poorest received education
free.[36] In higher education the period of union in Canada exhibited
great activity. The generous provision made for a King's College in
Toronto had been for a long time stultified by the ill-timed sectarian
spirit of the Bishop of Toronto; but a more reasonable temper prevailed
after the Rebellion, and the second governor-general of the united
provinces, Sir Charles Bagot, spent much of his short time of service
in securing professors and seeing the provincial university
launched.[37] {37} At the same time, the two other Canadian colleges of
note, M'Gill University and Queen's College, came into active
existence. In October, 1839, after many years of delay, Montreal saw
the corner-stone of the first English and Protestant College in Lower
Canada laid,[38] and in the winter of 1841-2, Dr. Liddell sailed from
Scotland to begin the history of struggle and gallant effort which has
characterized Queen's College, Kingston, from first to last. It is
perhaps the most interesting detail of early university education in
Canada, that the Presbyterian College started in a frame house, with
two professors, one representing Arts and one Theology, and with some
twenty students, very few of whom, however, were "fitted to be
matriculated."[39]
It is well to remember, in face of beginnings so irregular, and even
squalid, that deficiencies in Canadian college education had been made
good by the English and Scottish universities, and that Canadian higher
education was from the outset assisted by the genuine culture and
learning of the British colleges; for the main sources of university
inspiration in British North America {38} were Oxford and Cambridge,
Glasgow and Edinburgh.[40]
There were, of course, other less formal modes of education. When once
political agitation commenced, the press contributed not a little to
the education of the nation, and must indeed be counted one of the
chief agencies of information, if not of culture. Everywhere, from
Quebec to Hamilton, enterprising politicians made their influence felt
through newspapers. The period prior to the Rebellion had seen
Mackenzie working through his Colonial Advocate; and the cause of
responsible government soon found saner and abler exponents in Francis
Hincks and George Brown. At every important centre, one, two, or even
more news-sheets, not without merit, were maintained; and the secular
press was reinforced by such educational enterprise as the Dougalls
attempted in the Montreal Witness, or by church papers like the
Methodist Christian Guardian.[41] {39} Nothing, perhaps, is more
characteristic of this phase of Canadian intellectual growth than the
earlier volumes of the Witness, which played a part in Canada similar
to that of the Chambers' publications in Scotland. The note struck was
deeply sober and moral; the appeal was made to the working and middle
classes who in Canada as in Scotland were coming into possession of
their heritage; and if the intellectual level attained was never very
high, an honest attempt was being made to educate the shop-keepers and
farmers of Canada into wholesome national ideals.
Little literary activity seems to have existed outside of politics and
the newspapers. For a time cheap reprints from America assisted
Britons in Canada with their forbidden fruits, but government at last
intervened. It is a curious fact that this perfectly just and natural
prohibition had a most unfortunate effect in checking the reading
habits of the colony.[42] In the larger towns there {40} were
circulating libraries, and presumably immigrants occasionally brought
books with them; but newspaper advertisements suggest that school
books, and the like, formed almost the only stock-in-trade of the
book-shop; and the mercurial Major Richardson, after agitating the
chief book-sellers in Canada on behalf of one of his literary ventures,
found that his total sales amounted to barely thirty copies, and even
an auction sale at Kingston discovered only one purchaser, who limited
his offer to sevenpence halfpenny. In speaking, then, of the Canadian
political community in 1839, one cannot say, as Burke did of the
Americans in 1775, that they were a highly educated or book-reading
people. Their politicians, progressive and conservative alike, might
have shortened, simplified, and civilized certain stages in their
political agitations, had they been able more fully to draw on the
authority of British political experience; and their provincialism
would not have thrust itself so disagreeably on the modern student, had
Locke, Rousseau, Burke, and the greater leaders in modern political
science, been household names in early Victorian Canada.
As with other young communities, the church and religion had their part
to play in the shaping {41} of modern Canada. And yet it would be
impossible to attribute to any of the Canadian churches an influence so
decisive as that which religion exercised through Presbyterianism in
the creation of the Scottish democracy, or through Independency in
moulding the New England character. For while the question of a
religious establishment proved one of the most exciting issues in
politics, influences more truly religious suffered a natural
degradation and diminution through their over-close association with
secular affairs.
Once again the situation in Lower Canada was simplified by the
conditions prevailing among the French Canadians. For Lower Canada was
whole-heartedly Catholic, and the Canadian branch of the Roman Church
had its eulogy pronounced in no uncertain fashion by the Earl of
Durham, who, after praising its tolerant spirit, summed up the services
of the priesthood in these terms: "The Catholic priesthood of this
Province have, to a remarkable degree, conciliated the good-will of
persons of all creeds; and I know of no parochial clergy in the world,
whose practice of all the Christian virtues, and zealous discharge of
their clerical duties, is more universally admired, and has been
productive of more beneficial consequences. {42} Possessed of incomes
sufficient, and even large, according to the notions entertained in the
country, and enjoying the advantage of education, they have lived on
terms of equality and kindness with the humblest and least instructed
inhabitants of the rural districts. Intimately acquainted with the
wants and characters of their neighbours, they have been the promoters
and dispensers of charity, and the effectual guardians of the morals of
the people; and in the general absence of any permanent institutions of
civil government, the Catholic Church has presented almost the only
semblance of stability and organization, and furnished the only
effectual support for civilization and order. The Catholic clergy of
Lower Canada are entitled to this expression of my esteem, not only
because it is founded on truth, but because a grateful recognition of
their eminent services, in resisting the arts of the disaffected, is
especially due to them from one who has administered the government of
the Province in these troubled times."[43]
Upper Canada and the British community presented a somewhat different
picture. Certain Roman Catholic elements among the Irish and the
Scottish Highlanders reinforced the ranks of {43} Catholicism, but for
the greater part Anglicanism and Presbyterianism were the
ecclesiastical guides of the settlers. At first, apart from official
religion, the Church of England appeared in Canada in missionary form,
and about 1820 the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel had
fifteen missionaries in Lower Canada, and seventeen in Upper Canada.
But under the fostering care of governors like Colborne, and the
organizing genius of Dr. Strachan, Rector, Archdeacon, and latterly
Bishop in Toronto, the Anglican Church in Canada became a
self-dependent unit. The Bishop of Toronto was able to boast in 1842
that in his western visitation, which lasted from June till October, he
had "consecrated two churches and one burial ground, confirmed 756
persons at twenty-four different stations, and travelled, including his
journeys for the formation of District Branches of the Church Society,
upwards of 2,500 miles."[44] In cities like Toronto and Kingston it
was on the whole the church of the governing class, and shared in the
culture and public qualities of that class. Nor was it negligent of
the cure of poorer souls, for Anglicans co-operated with Presbyterians
in the {44} management of the poor schools in Kingston, and in that and
the other more prominent towns of the province, the English parish
church system seems to have been transplanted and worked most
efficiently. Equal in importance, if not in numbers, Scottish
Presbyterianism claimed its section of the community. Down to 1822,
there were but six organized congregations in Upper and Lower Canada
connected with the Church of Scotland,[45] but at the first
Presbyterian Synod held in Canada, in 1831, fourteen ministers and five
elders gathered at Kingston to represent the Church;[46] and by 1837
the number of congregations had grown to 37 in Upper Canada, and 14 in
Lower Canada. Nor were these weak and struggling efforts. The
Scottish Church at Kingston had in 1841 a membership of 350, and an
average attendance of 800. Like its Anglican rival, it was simply a
parish church, and its minister, trained in Edinburgh, as the Anglican
cleric came naturally from an English college, visited, preached, and
disciplined according to the rules of Knox and Melville, and
maintained, perhaps more genuinely than either school or {45} newspaper
could, an educational influence on his flock not unworthy of the mother
country. Here and there the ties, which still remained strong, between
Canadian settlements and the districts in Scotland whence the settlers
were drawn, proved useful aids in church extension. Lanark, in Upper
Canada, owed its church to the efforts of friends in Lanarkshire, in
Scotland, who collected no less a sum than L290 for the purpose.[47]
But the religious life of Canada was assisted by another less official
force, the Methodist Church. Methodism in its earlier days incurred
the reproach of being rather American than British, and, in one of his
most unjustifiable perversions of the truth, Strachan tried to make the
fact tell against the sect, in his notorious table of ecclesiastical
statistics. Undoubtedly there was a stronger American element in the
Methodist connection than in either of the other churches; and its
spirit lent itself more readily to American innovations. Its fervent
methods drew from the ranks of colder churches the more emotional, and
being freer and homelier in its ritual, it appealed very directly to a
rude and half-educated community. Thus the Methodist preachers made
{46} rapid headway, more especially in regions untouched by the
official churches.
In the representative man of early Canadian Methodism, Egerton Ryerson,
qualities conspicuously British and conservative, appeared. Through
him Methodism came forward as the supporter of the British connection
in the Metcalfe troubles, as through him it may claim some of the glory
of organizing an adequate system of provincial education. But, after
all, the noblest work of the sect was done in informal and irregular
fashion. They were the pioneers and coureurs du bois of the British
province in the religious world. Perhaps the most genuine tribute paid
to this earlier phase of Methodism was that of John Beverley Robinson,
when his fellow Anglicans blamed him in 1842 for granting a plot of
ground for a Methodist chapel. "Frequently," he retorted, "in the most
lonely parts of the wilderness, in townships where a clergyman of the
Church of England had never been heard, and probably never seen, I have
found the population assembled in some log building, earnestly engaged
in acts of devotion, and listening to those doctrines and truths which
are inculcated in common by most Christian denominations, but which, if
it had not been for {47} the ministration of dissenting preachers,
would for thirty years have been but little known, if at all, to the
greater part of the inhabitants of the interior of Upper Canada."[48]
Still the Canadian Methodist Church did not occupy so conspicuous a
place in the official public life of Canada, and in Sydenham's
Legislative Council of 1841, out of twenty-four members, eight
represented Anglicanism, eight Presbyterianism, eight Catholicism, and
Methodism had to find lowlier places for its political leaders.[49]
Hitherto religion has been viewed in its social and spiritual aspects.
But Canadian history has, with perhaps over-emphasis, selected one
great controversy as the central point in the religious life of the
province. It is not my intention to enter here into the wearisome
details of the Clergy Reserve question. But the fight over the
establishment principle forms an essential factor in the social and
political life of Canada between 1839 and 1854, the year in which it
was finally settled. It is first necessary to discriminate between
what may be called casual and incidental support to churches in Canada,
and the main Clergy Reserve {48} fund. When Dr. Black challenged, in
the interests of Presbyterianism, certain monies paid to Anglican
churches in Upper and Lower Canada, he was able to point to direct
assistance given by the Imperial Parliament to the Anglican Church in
Canada. He was told in answer that these grants were temporarily made
to individuals with whose lives they terminated, and that a pledge had
been given in 1832 that Britain should be relieved of such
expenses.[50] In a similar fashion, when the district of Perth, in
Upper Canada, was settled by discharged soldiers and emigrants from
Scotland, "Government offered assistance for the support of a minister,
without respect to religious denomination," and, as a matter of fact,
the community thus assisted to a clergyman, received, not a minister of
the Church of Scotland, but one ordained by the Secession Church in
Scotland--a curious but laudable example of laxity on the part of
government.[51]
The root and ground of offending lay in the thirty-sixth and following
clauses of the Constitutional Act of 1791, which proposed to support
{49} and maintain a Protestant clergy in the provinces by grants of
land, equal in value to the seventh part of lands granted for other
purposes. On the face of it, and interpreted by the clauses which
follow, the Act seems to bear out the Anglican contention that the
English Church establishment received an extension to Canada through
the Act, and that no other church was expected to receive a share. It
is true that the legal decision of 1819, and the views of colonial
secretaries like Glenelg, admitted at least the Scottish Church to a
portion of the benefits. But for the purposes of the situation in
1839, it is merely necessary to say that a British parliament in 1791,
ignorant of actual colonial conditions, and more especially of the
curious ecclesiastical developments with which the American colonies
had modified the British system before 1776, and probably forgetful of
the claims of the Church of Scotland to parliamentary recognition, had
given Canada the beginnings of an Anglican Church establishment; and
that the Anglicans in Canada, and more especially those led by Dr. John
Strachan, had more than fulfilled the sectarian and monopolist
intentions of the legislators.
Three schools of opinion formed themselves in {50} the intervening
years. First and foremost came the establishment men, mainly Anglican,
but with a certain Presbyterian following, who claimed to monopolize
the benefits, such as they were, of the Clergy Reserve funds. Canada
as a British colony was bound to support the one or two state churches
of the mother country; religious inequality was to flourish there as at
home; dissent was to receive the same stigma and disqualification, and
the dominant church or churches were to live, not by the efforts of
their members, but at the expense of all citizens of the state, whether
Anglican, Presbyterian, or Methodist. This phase of opinion received
its most offensive expression from leaders like the Bishop of Toronto.
To these monopolists, any modification of the Anglican settlement
seemed a "tyrannical and unjust measure," and they adopted an
ecclesiastical arrogance towards their fellow-Christians, which did
much to alienate popular sympathies throughout the province.
At the other extreme was a solid mass of public sentiment which had
little interest in the ecclesiastical theories of the Bishop of
Toronto, and which resented alike attempts to convert the provincial
university into an Anglican college, and the cumbrous and unjust form
of church establishment, {51} the most obvious evidence of which lay in
the undeveloped patches of Clergy Reserve land scattered everywhere
throughout the settlements. It was the undoubted desire of a majority
in 1840 that the Clergy Reserve system should be ended, the former
reserves sold, and the proceeds applied to educational and general
purposes; a desire which had been registered in the House of Assembly
on fourteen different occasions since 1826.[52] The case for the
voluntary principle in Canada had many exponents, but these words of
Dr. John Rolph in 1836 express the spirit of the movement in both its
strength and its weakness: "Instead of making a State provision for any
one or more churches; instead of apportioning the Clergy Reserves among
them with a view to promoting Christianity; instead of giving pensions
and salaries to ministers to make them independent of voluntary
contributions from the people, I would studiously avoid that policy,
and leave truth unfettered and unimpeded to make her own conquests....
The professions of law and physic are well represented in this
Assembly, and bear ample testimony to the generosity of the people
towards them. Will good, pious and evangelical ministers of our holy
religion be likely to {52} fare worse than the physicians of the body,
or the agents for our temporal affairs? Let gospel ministers, as the
Scriptures say, live by the gospel, and the apostolic maxim that the
workman is worthy of his hire implies the performance of duty rewarded
temporarily by those who impose it. There is no fear that the
profession will become extinct for want of professors."[53]
Between the extremes, however, there existed a group of moderate
politicians, represented, in the Upper Province by Baldwin, in the
Lower by La Fontaine, and among British statesmen apparently by both
Sydenham and Elgin. Especially among its Canadian members, this group
felt keenly the desirability of supporting religion, as it struggled
through the difficulties inevitably connected with early colonial life.
But neither Baldwin, who was a devoted Anglican, nor La Fontaine, a
faithful son of his Church, showed any tinge of Strachan's bitterness
as they considered the question; and nothing impressed Canadian opinion
more than did La Fontaine's speech, in a later phase of the Clergy
Reserve troubles, when he solemnly renounced on behalf of his
coreligionists any chance of stealing an advantage while the
Protestants {53} were quarrelling, and when he stated his opinion that
the endowment belonged to the Protestant clergy, and should be shared
equally among them. It was this school of thought---to anticipate
events by a year or two--which received the sanction of Sydenham's
statesmanship, and that energetic mind never accomplished anything more
notable than when, in the face of a strong secularizing feeling, to the
justification for which he was in no way blind, he repelled the party
of monopoly, and yet retained the endowment for the Protestant churches
of Canada. "The Clergy Reserves," he wrote in a private letter, "have
been, and are, the great overwhelming grievance--the root of all the
troubles of the province, the cause of the Rebellion--the never-failing
watchword at the hustings--the perpetual source of discord, strife, and
hatred. Not a man of any party but has told me that the greatest boon
which could be conferred on the country would be that they should be
swept into the Atlantic, and that nobody should get them. My Bill[54]
has gone through the Assembly by a considerable majority, thirty to
twenty, and I feel confident that I can get it through the {54} Council
without the change of a word. If it is really carried, it is the
greatest work that ever has been done in this country, and will be of
more solid advantage to it than all the loans and all the troops you
can make or send. It is worth ten unions, and was ten times more
difficult."[55]
It is a melancholy comment on the ecclesiastical interpretation of
religion that, ten years later, when the firmly expressed desires of
all moderate men had given the Bishop of Toronto a good excuse for
acquiescence in Sydenham's status quo, that pugnacious ecclesiastic
still fought to save as much of the monopoly as could be secured.[56]
With the Clergy Reserve dispute, the region of politics has been
reached; and, after all, politics furnished the most powerful influence
in the young Canadian community. But politics must be taken less in
the constitutional sense, as has been the custom with Canadian writers,
and more in the social and human sense. It is important also to note
the broad stretches of Canadian existence {55} into which they hardly
intruded. Political questions found few exponents among the pioneers
as they cleared the forests, or gathered lumber for the British market,
or pushed far to the west and north in pursuit of furs. Even the
Rebellion, when news of it reached Strickland and his fellow-settlers
in the Peterborough country, came to them less as part of a prolonged
struggle in which they all were taking part, than as an abnormal
incident, to be ended outright by loyal strength. They hardly seem to
have thought that any liberties of theirs were really endangered. When
Mackenzie himself complained that instead of entering Toronto with four
or five thousand men, he found himself at the head of a poor two
hundred, he does not seem to have realized that, even had his
fellow-conspirators not mismanaged things, it would still have been
difficult to keep hard-working settlers keyed up to the pitch of
revolutionary and abstract doctrines.[57] There must have been many
settlers of the temper of the humble Scottish janitor in Queen's
College, Kingston, who wrote, in the midst of the struggle of parties
in 1851: "For my part I never trouble my head about one of them.
Although the polling-house was just across {56} the street, I never
went near it."[58] In the cities, however, and along the main lines of
communication, the interest must have been keen, and the country
undoubtedly attained its manhood as it struggled towards the solution
of questions like those of the Clergy Reserves, the financing of the
colony, the regulation of trade and immigration, and, above all others,
the definition of responsible government.
Something has already been said of the various political groups in the
colony, for they corresponded roughly to the different strata of
settlement--French, Loyalist, and men of the later immigration. It is
true, as Sydenham and Elgin pointed out, that the British party names
hardly corresponded to local divisions--and that these divisions were
really too petty to deserve the name of parties. Yet it would be
foolish to deny the actual existence of the groups, or to refuse to see
in their turbulence and strife the beginning of national
self-consciousness, and the first stage in a notable political
development.
Most conspicuous among the political forces, because the bond of party
union was for them {57} something deeper than opinion, and must be
called racial, was the French-Canadian group, with the whole weight of
habitant support behind it. From the publication of Lord Durham's
Report, through the Sydenham regime, and down till Sir Charles Bagot
surrendered to their claims, the French politicians presented an
unbroken and hostile front to the British community. Colborne had
repressed their risings at the point of the bayonet; a Whig government
had deprived them temporarily of free institutions; Durham--their
friend after his fashion--had bidden them be absorbed into the greater
British community; Sydenham came to enforce what Durham had suggested;
and, with each new check, their pride had grown more stubborn and their
nationalism more intense. Bagot, who understood them and whom they
came to trust, may be allowed to describe their characteristics,
through the troubled first years of union: "On Lord Sydenham's
arrival," he wrote to Stanley, "he found the Lower Province deprived of
a constitution, the legislative functions of the government being
administered by a special council, consisting of a small number of
members nominated by the Crown. A large portion of the people, at
least those of French origin, prostrate under {58} the effects of the
Rebellion, overawed by the power of Great Britain, and excluded from
all share in the government, had resigned themselves to a sullen and
reluctant submission, or to a perverse but passive resistance to the
government. This temper was not improved by the passing of the Act of
Union. In this measure, heedless of the generosity of the Imperial
government, in overlooking their recent disaffection, and giving them a
free and popular constitution, ... they apprehended a new instrument of
subjection, and accordingly prepared to resist it. Lord Sydenham found
them in this disposition, and despairing, from its early
manifestations, of the possibility of overcoming or appeasing it,
before the period at which it would be necessary to put in force the
Act of Union, he determined upon evincing his indifference to it, and
upon taking steps to carry out his views, in spite of the opposition of
the French party.... They have from that time declared and evinced
their hostility to the Union ... and have maintained a consistent,
united, and uncompromising opposition to the government which was
concerned in carrying it into execution."[59]
To describe the French in politics, it has been {59} necessary to
advance a year or two beyond 1839, for the Rebellion had terminated one
phase of their political existence, and the characteristics of the next
phase did not become apparent till the Union Assembly of 1841 and 1842.
It was indeed an abnormal form of the national and racial question
which there presented itself. French Canada found itself represented
by a party, over twenty in number, the most compact in the House of
Assembly, and with la nation Canadienne solidly behind them. In La
Fontaine, Viger, Morin and others, it had leaders both skilful and
fully trusted. Yet the party of the British supremacy quoted Durham
and others in favour of a plan for the absorption of French Canada in
the British element; and the same party could recount, with telling
effect, the past misdeeds, or at least the old suspicions, connected
with the names of the French leaders. Misunderstood, and yet half
excusably misunderstood; self-governing, and yet deprived of many of
the legitimate consequences and fruits of self-government; without
places or honours, and yet coherent, passionately French, and
competently led, the French party stood across the path of Canadian
peace, menacing, and with a racial rather than a party threat.
{60}
In the Upper Province, the party in possession, the so-called Family
Compact group, posed as the only friends of Britain. They had never
possessed more than an accidental majority in the Lower House, and,
since Durham's rule, it seemed likely that their old supremacy in the
Executive and Legislative Councils had come to an end. Yet as their
power receded, their language became the more peremptory, and their
contempt for other groups the more bitter. One of the most respectable
of the group, J. S. Cartwright, frankly confessed that he thought his
fellow-colonists unfit for any extension of self-government "in a
country where almost universal suffrage prevails, where the great mass
of the people are uneducated, and where there is but little of that
salutary influence which hereditary rank and great wealth exercise in
Great Britain."[60] Their position had an apparent but unreal
strength, because they knew that the older type of Colonial official,
the entire British Conservative party, and the Church of England, at
home and abroad, supported them. As late as July, 1839, Arthur, the
representative of the Crown in Upper Canada, could write thus to his
government concerning more than half the {61} population under his
authority: "There is a considerable section of persons who are disloyal
to the core; reform is on their lips, but separation is in their
hearts. These people having for the last two or three years made a
'responsible government' their watch-word, are now extravagantly elated
because the Earl of Durham has recommended that measure. They regard
it as an unerring means to get rid of all British connection, while the
Earl of Durham, on the contrary, has recommended it as a measure for
cementing the existing bond of union with the mother country."[61]
Their programme was precise and consistent. The influence of a too
democratic franchise was to be modified by a Conservative upper house,
and an executive council, chosen not in accordance with popular wishes,
but from the class--their own--which had so long been dominant in the
executive. The British connection depended, in their view, on the
permanent alliance between their group and whatsoever representative
the British crown might send to Canada. French Canadian feeling they
were prepared to repress as a thing rebellious and un-English, and the
{62} friends of the French in Upper Canada they regarded very much as a
South African might the Englishman who should be prepared to strengthen
his political position by an alliance with the native peoples; although
events were to prove that, when other elements of self-interest
dictated a different course, they were not unwilling to co-operate in
the interests of disorder with the French. In ecclesiastical affairs,
they supported the establishment of an Anglican Church in Canada, and
insulted religion never found more eloquent defenders than did the
Clergy Reserve establishment at the hands of Sir Allan MacNab, the
Conservative leader, and his allies. But events and their own factious
excesses had broken their power. They had allowed nothing for the
possibilities of political education, in a land where the poorest had
infinite chances of gaining independence. They scorned democracy at a
time when nothing else in politics had a stable future; and the country
naturally distrusted constitutional logicians whose conclusions
invariably landed them in the sole possession of emoluments and place.
Sydenham's quick eye foresaw the coming rout, and it was his opinion,
before the Assembly of 1841 came to make matters certain, that moderate
men would overturn the {63} sway of old Toryism, and that the wild
heads under MacNab would stultify themselves by their foolish
conduct.[62]
In Upper Canada, the Conservative and Family Co