Puslapio vaizdai
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and magnetos until for the life of him he could not have told whether he was still a professor, or whether the dusty and greasy demonstrator was some professor of the inferno and he himself a dazed pupil being inducted laboriously into the mysteries of the under-world. But at last it all came to an end, and one day your professor emerged from the secondhand realms of Pluto, perched jauntily upon the seat of a car that went.

But the car that went never went very far, and in desperation, sometime later, the professor drove it back to the underworld and began a long travail of requesting, commanding, and finally of bribing other representatives of Pluto to take the thing off his hands. When the travail ended and the summer ended, the professor took down his bank-book again and derived what satisfaction he could from reflecting that at least his life had been spared.

And then in the evening Bover to hear all about the sequel.

came

"Pooh!" he ejaculated, "imagine a professor knowing how to do anything except how to profess! Ride this evening?"

Of course the professor went and enjoyed his ride for the first time in weeks.

Then, too, the professor rebels silently, but none the less bitterly, against the elaborate dresses which Jones's wife wears, and Smith's wife, and Brown's wife; in fact, everybody's wife. In his sensitive eye the modest apparel of his own poor wife compares all unfavorably with that worn by her neighbors. Of course his wife always looks neat and wholesome in her last-year's-made-overs and in her bargain-counters, but that fact fails to extract the bitterness from the professor's musings. It is not that he, poor man, sets much store by style; it is only that his instincts to array his lady in finery are every whit as strong as are those of Smith or Jones or Brown, which again demonstrates the professor's humanness.

And, speaking of clothes, look at the professor's wardrobe: one suit that he wears every day to the university, with a black for church and a carefully hungaway dress-up for formalities. The first cost $19.98 before the war, and has cost his wife many weary hours and neartears ever since; the second is a shiny,

faded affair fast falling into oblivion after years of patient service; and the third, a product of a shopman upon whose sign reads, "Students' misfit and slightly worn clothing." Very likely a discarded dress-suit of one of the professor's own students. Needless to add, perhaps, the pungent odor of moth-balls comes insistently and lingeringly to the professor's nostrils on those rare occasions when he dons the last-named suit, another silent, but olfactory, tribute to the indispensableness of a good helpmate in the great adventure of life and the economy of living.

Not many days since it chanced that some half-score or more threads in the professor's trousers, a-wearied of life and its labors, let loose their grip and settled back into gaping relaxation. The professor inclined his head, and viewed the rent with consternation. There ensued an unhappy scene when his helpmate, tearfully set about gathering up the raveled threads of life. With the aid of strong, though slightly off-shade, splints, however, the good woman succeeded in reviving the garment so well that the grateful professor forthwith betook himself to a near-by department-store and bought her a new shirt-waist for a thankoffering. His trousers bid fair to continue to serve him well for an indefinite period of time.

Then, too, there is the matter of shelter, an item no less important than clothing. It need hardly be stated that the professor has quite as much need of a roof wherewith to cover his head and shelter his family as any one else. True, he does not require a mansion, or yet an apartment on Fifth Avenue, or even a whole house to himself in the suburbs. He can live respectably, and his children. can grow up tolerably, in a flat on some modest, quiet street; but roof of some sort he doth require.

Now, B, of course, owns his own house, and a handsome one it is, too.

"Why pay rent, man?" he demands savagely of the professor after Iddelstein has made his first-day-of-the-month round. "Here I have a house all to myself, and it does n't cost me a cent more, I'll wager, than you have to pay old Iddelstein."

Right again, B, as usual. Still,

the initial payment of a thousand down would be about as impossible for the professor as for his tired wife to spend the summer at the shore or in the mountains. Nevertheless, came a day a few months since when your professor was seized with consternation. Old Iddelstein gave

notice of a raise in the rent. It had been twenty-five dollars a month for years; but henceforth the landlord would require thirty dollars! Zounds! And another bond issue about to be floated by the Government! How could he possibly afford it? Even B- failed to understand the situation.

"You are getting it cheap enough at that," he growled. "Buy a home, and then you can snap your fingers at old Iddelstein."

Still-well, professors' wives have ways of saving that the world knoweth little of. When rent-day ticked round again, old Iddelstein got his thirty dollars, and another bond was purchased into the bargain.

But it was only the beginning of evil days for the poor professor. Within six weeks the rent was raised again, and within six more weeks it was raised yet again. And then, to cap it all, word came that old Iddelstein had sold the house to a larger investor, and that tenants must vacate within thirty days!

The heavens had never drooped any lower than on that eventful day. The professor hurried across the way to inform B- while his wife laid her head upon the table and cried softly.

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B, as usual, was as good as gold. "Jump in, and we 'll go house-hunting," he cried cheerfully. "Plenty of good rents to be had, of course."

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company charged five dollars for transferring the instrument, or the gas company five dollars for resetting the meter, or the electric company an equal amount for the same service? All such little expenses were incidental and were unavoidable. Why bother about them? It was pleasant to be at home, pleasant to have the moving all over with; pleasant to contemplate long years of peaceful residence in the new home.

Say, rather, short weeks. Again the heavens drooped low; for a second time the house was sold over the poor professor's head, for a second time the game of blindman's-buff had to be played, for a second time the drag-net of the telephone and the gas and the electric company operated athwart the professor's thin pocket-book, for a second time worry and unrest and upsetment.

Then the clouds drew back and revealed their silver lining in the form of a letter from the trustees. The professor read it, then re-read it; then in a delicious daze he passed it over to his wife.

"Read some good news, Alice!" Here is the good news which the letter contained:

My dear Professor A―:

I have the good fortune to inform you, on behalf of the trustees, that at a formal meeting held this morning it was unanimously voted to raise your salary from its present figure, $1800, to $1900. The Board was led to this action, my dear sir, quite as much in recognition of your faithful and efficient service as in consequence of the rather considerable increase in the cost of living within the past two or three years. Believe me, my dear sir,

Your humble servant, X

"Famous!" exclaimed the professor's wife when she had likewise read and reread the momentous instrument. "Only think of it-that extra hundred will pay all the expenses of our moving both times!"

That same evening two light-hearted, middle-aged people sat side by side and hand in hand on the front piazza.

"Alice, suppose we celebrate our raise," suggested the professor. "Which shall it be, my dear, vanilla or chocolate?"

No, gracious reader, do not misjudge the poor professor folk. They are willing workers and are hard workers. There is no Bolshevism among them. They are not even strikers. Perhaps they have n't the nerve to strike. Perhaps they deem such forceful demonstration unprofessional. It may be that some day there will be a professors' union, as there is also a carmen's union and a barbers' union and a buttonmakers' union. Indeed, such movements are already well on foot. Still, though the idea is repugnant to most teachers, I am sure that, in order to be able to live comfortably, they must resort to the strikers' methods.

You see, then, what I have been driving at all through this communication has been money, and more money. When you get a chance, just sit down with pencil and paper and figure out the professor's problem for yourself.

Here it is:

In

Professor A- has taught for 10 years at an average salary of $1800 a year. order properly to equip himself for his profession, he spent 4 years in high school, 4 years in college, and 3 years in a university. During those 11 years he earned $2000 at summer work, tutoring, etc. His expenses for those years total $8000. Was his education a paying investment for the professor? How many years will he have to teach before he is as well off financially as he was 21 years ago, when he was graduated from the eighth grade? What annual returns would a practical business man expect from such an investment? How does the investment of a hod-carrier compare?

The problem, if you figure it out fairly, will stagger you as it has often staggered the professor and the professor's wife. "Why don't you give it up, then?" asks B in amazement.

Well, perhaps the truth is that away down deep in the heart, your professor knows well that once a real teacher has felt the true charm of his work, he can never find complete happiness elsewhere. It is perhaps something akin to the emotions of the sailor away from his beloved, rolling ocean. The call of the deep is the call of life; so for the professor the call of the lecture-hall and the labora

tory is the call of happiness. Then why think of turning a deaf ear to them? Who would advise another to give up important work in which he is interested and happy? Our work is our passion.

The life of the professor, then, is not without its attenuating circumstances. B likes to point to the long summer vacation and to reiterate ad lib. that the professor's life is, what he pleases to term it, a "cinch." I have not yet quite succeeded in making him appreciate the fact that a teacher is paid for the time that he devotes to teaching, and for nothing more. Of course, if boards of trustees see fit to divide eighteen hundred dollars into twelve equal parts and portion it out each month, it makes the gross income no greater than it would be were it divided into ten equal parts and portioned out during the ten months in which the institution is in operation. But it is quite beyond B's compreBhension. The result is that, if the professor desires to increase his yearly stipend, he must get out and find a job at a summer school during the two months of enforced idleness.

Still, there are attenuating circumstances that are valid in the professorial profession. The remuneration is sure, however small it may be; there is an undeniable dignity attached to the work; one moves in a good social group; hardand-fast friendships are fostered; students are not infrequently grateful for life to a beloved professor; there is opportunity to read and study in one's chosen field; and last, but perhaps not least, there is always the possibility of rising higher in the profession by dint of thoughtful, painstaking work.

There are moments of financial discouragement and embarrassment, however, which keep the life of a professor from passing in serenity and peace. Often, too, the knowledge comes painfully over him when riding in a trolley that the motorman and conductor are better recompensed in dollars and cents than is he, or while observing a mason lay his bricks or a carpenter drive a nail or a glazier set a pane or a cobbler heel a shoe, that the same thing is true.

And yet I suppose there will always be professors.

Life and Letters of Sir Wilfrid Laurier

By OSCAR DOUGLAS SKELTON

An interesting account of the furious political warfare waged between sections of Catholic Quebec, which culminated in the attainment of Sir Wilfrid Laurier to leadership of the Liberal party.

VI. LIBERALISM AND THE CHURCH

IN the first ten years of Wilfrid Laurier's public career the outstanding issue which he had to face was the hostility of a vigorous and aggressive section of the Quebec clergy to the party of which he was one of the responsible leaders. It has been seen that in the twenty years before confederation the Rouge party and its journalistic spokesmen had, not without reason, found themselves in the black books of the clergy,1 and that with much less reason Bishop Bourget and his abettors had waged war upon the young men grouped in l'Institut Canadien who had dared to maintain the liberty of inquiry and discussion. In the dozen years that followed, the storm, instead of abating, grew more violent. The area of conflict widened, occupying the whole provincial stage, and the connection with the contemporaneous movements in Europe became still more marked than in the union period.

One factor in the situation was that the aggressively Ultramontane wing of the church in Quebec had grown more powerful. Mgr. Bourget and Mgr. Laflèche were now older and more firmly established in their seats, with wills which had become no less firm with years of exercised authority. Around them, and particularly in Montreal, there gathered the men of what Mgr. Bourget termed the "New School," journalists like the editors of the "Nouveau Monde" and the "Franc Parleur," pamphleteers like Alphonse Villeneuve, and preachers like Abbé Pelletier and Father Braun, a newly come Jesuit. In the archbishop's palace, in the Seminary of St. Sulpice,

and in Laval University, at Quebec, another temper and other views of how the church's interest could best be served prevailed; but the fighting, uncompromising, unrecking minority daily gained ascendancy.

The activity of this school was the more intense because confederation seemed to have left them a free field. In Quebec, as in the other provinces, there had been set up a provincial government to which were assigned education and the local matters in which the church was chiefly concerned. No longer was it necessary to run the gantlet of a vigilant and biassed Clear Grit group from Upper Canada when matters ecclesiastical were brought before the house. In Quebec the people were four fifths Catholic, and on this fact the Ultramontane wing based its hopes of molding the province to its will.

But more effective than any other factor was the influence of the Old-World conflict. The Canadian movement was not merely parallel with the European, but in issues and inspiration, party labels and party cries, it was directly and closely shaped by it.

In Catholic Europe, and particularly in France, a struggle had waged for centuries between opposing tendencies that before 1789 were usually termed Gallican and Ultramontane, and after 1789, liberal and Ultramontane, though the shades of opinion were too multiform and shifting for any single labels to qualify them aright. The aright. The Gallican sought to build up an independent national church, demanding administrative authority for the king and doctrinal authority for church councils, as against

"Inopportune questions, such as the secularisation of the schools and the strict limitation of ecclesiastical rights of mainmort, had had the effect of alarming the clergy, who feared a coalition between a certain number of Catholics and the Protestants of Upper Canada, and of raising against the Liberals a tempest which left behind it bitter feelings that have required many years to efface." "Le Pays," 1871.

the claims of the papacy. The Ultramontane, looking "beyond the mountains" to Rome, insisted that the one holy Catholic Church must be ruled as a unity, that the pope as its head and God's viceregent not only was supreme in spiritual affairs, but was entitled, because of the inherent superiority of spiritual power over temporal, to control all temporal affairs-and they were not few-in which moral or spiritual issues could be said to be involved. The Gallican, on the whole, had the better of the dispute until the French Revolution seemed likely to end it by completing the destruction alike of national church and papal power. The national churches, undermined by the nationalist questioning of the age of Voltaire and weakened by the worldliness of the higher clergy, appeared destined to crumble under the attacks of the revolutionary spirit, which accepted no institution however ancient and no claim that could not justify itself at the bar of reason. The papacy, with its Italian possessions invaded and seized and the popes themselves exiled and prisoners, had fallen to its lowest ebb of power.

Yet the tide speedily turned. The nineteenth century witnessed no more remarkable development than the steady revival of the Roman Catholic Church and the still more rapid growth of the Ultramontane spirit within the church. The people, when admitted to power, proved to be much more religious than the skeptical aristocrats of the old régime. In the softer lights of romanticism faiths revived that had wilted under the harsh noonday glare of rationalism. Kings and nobles and capitalists, seeking to build up bulwarks against tumultuous change, turned to the most ancient and unchanging seat of authority in Europe. But the new religious zeal, for all the efforts of Bourbon and Hapsburg kings, could not be put back into the old bottles of Gallicanism. The clergy in France had ceased to be a separate estate of the realm; the episcopate had ceased to be made up of scions of ancient families, bound by training and territorial possessions to the political interests of their kingdom. All the men of vitality in the reviving church preferred to be the religious servants of the

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vicar of Christ rather than the civil servants of a Bourbon king.

What was to be the attitude of the ancient power thus revived to the new power unloosed by the Revolution? Could the church accept the principles of '89 and '93, inscribe "Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity" on its banners, and make terms with liberalism and the states in which liberalism was in control? Continental liberalism, with its emphasis on the individual, had assumed a state founded on the free contract of individual men, had asserted the right to freedom of thought, of speech, and of organization, and then had often inconsistently refused the church freedom to act and organize as it willed. The church had held that political societies were not man-made, but ordained of Heaven, and that individual reason and individual claims must be subordinated to the authority in church and state that God himself had set up.

There were many ardent spirits in France Lamennais, Lacordaire, and Montalembert foremost among themwho believed it would be possible to bring the church and liberalism to terms, and to develop a Catholic liberalism which would meet the needs of the new day. They besought the pope to place himself at the head of a purified liberal movement in Europe, and to base Catholicism firmly once more on the will and the devotion of the multitudes. In revolt against the policy which made the church merely an instrument of state policy, they turned to Rome for freedom from royal shackles; urging freedom for themselves, they were prepared to extend it to others. Fighting Gallican kings and ministers, they sought to be at once Ultramontane and liberal, Ultramontane from religious conviction, and liberal from political expediency. "Men tremble before liberalism," Lamennais had declared; "make it Catholic, and society will be born again." "There are two liberalisms," he wrote in "L'Avenir" in 1830, "the old and the new: the old, heir to the doctrines of eighteenth-century philosophy, breathes only religious intolerance and oppression, but the new liberalism, which will in time overcome the old, is only concerned, as regards religion, with demanding the separation

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