Henry John Cody: An Outstanding Life

By Donald Campbell Masters

Henry John Cody was born in Embro, Ontario, on December 6, 1868. He was a great man in his day, in Toronto especially, in the Anglican church, in educational circles (both in school and university), and in the Conservative Party, but now, some forty years after his death, he is almost forgotten and indeed unheard of by anyone under 50.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dundurn
• Release date: Jan 6, 1995
• ISBN: 9781459714380

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Index

Preface

I had personal reasons for writing a biography of H.J. Cody. He came out of an Ontario background quite similar to my own. He was a hero in my family. He had taught my father, C.K. Masters, at Wycliffe College and had been a lifelong friend. A picture of Cody always hung in my father’s study.

I met Cody only twice but I heard him speak on many occasions: as guest speaker at the Ridley College Prize Day; as rector of St. Paul’s Church, Toronto, which I attended frequently in my student years at the University of Toronto; and finally, when as president of the university he spoke at a memorial service for George V. I still have a vivid recollection of Cody as a dynamic speaker.

I wish to express my gratitude to those who helped me in writing this volume. Leon S. Warmski, senior research archivist at the Ontario Archives, was of continuous assistance. I am grateful for his help and for many acts of kindness. Harold Averill, assistant university archivist at the University of Toronto Archives, was extremely helpful and encouraging, particularly in regard to material relating to the latter part of Cody’s career. Alex Ross was most helpful during his stay at the Ontario Archives and later, when he was head of Twentieth Century Records with the Hudson’s Bay Company, in Winnipeg, in the search for material on Archbishop Matheson in the Manitoba Archives in Winnipeg.

I had cordial assistance from the staff of the Anglican General Synod. Dr. Tom Millman, the archivist, took a kindly interest in the book and recalled his own impressions of Cody’s personality. Terry Thompson, a later archivist, and Dorothy Kealey, a member of the staff, were most cooperative.

My old friend, the late Alfred Rickard, used to attend St. Paul’s Church with me when we were students. Later, when he was a volunteer assistant at the church archives, Alf gave me some shrewd recollections of Cody.

The Reverend William J. Hockin, the rector of St. Paul’s Church, and Bishop Peter Mason, when principal of Wycliffe College, both took a keen interest in the book and helped to secure its publication. Mr. D. Miller Alloway, president of Cairn Capital Inc., gave strong encouragement.

Among my University of Toronto friends, Professor Robin Harris suggested sources of material in the university archives, and the late Professor Gerald Craig gave me his recollections of the Cody-Underhill relationship. Senator D.J. Walker, a friend of Cody’s son, Maurice, made a memorandum on his memories of Cody. Mrs. Barbara Storey wrote an account of her time as Cody’s secretary in 1940–41. I am grateful to the late Sydney H. Hermant for permission to quote from his paper Henry John Cody, delivered to the University College Alumni Association on November 9, 1982.

Chapter 10 of my book is a revised copy of my paper H.J. Cody and the Toronto Episcopal Election of 1909, which was published in the Journal of the Canadian Church Historical Society, vol. 30, no. 2.

I owe a tremendous debt to my family. My wife, Marjorie, shared in the research, typed the first draft, made many valuable suggestions, and edited the first draft before submission to the publishers. My daughter Margaret (Dr. Margaret Helder) was most helpful. She typed the entire manuscript and made many valuable criticisms. My other children – Jane, Mary Ann, Lois, and Charles – were helpful in typing and encouragement. Charles and our good friend Hugh Anderson helped to promote the publication of the book.

My late sister Peggy and her husband Bill (Mr. and Mrs. W.R. Wallace) provided material about Havergal College and the Cody family in Embro. Catherine Steele, a former principal, also helped with material about Havergal.

I am very much indebted to my agent, John Irwin, to my publisher, Kirk Howard of Dundurn Press, and to my able and considerate editor, Judith Turnbull.

I wish to thank the Ontario Archives, the University of Toronto Archives, and the City of Toronto Archives for permission to reproduce their photographs; acknowledgment appears on each illustration.

D.C.M.

Introduction

A biographer of H.J. Cody has special difficulties. If one is writing about a person already well known and celebrated, like Julius Caesar or Napoleon, one writes for readers who have an initial interest in the subject. Cody was a great man in his day, in Toronto especially, in the Anglican Church, in educational circles (both in school and university), and in the Conservative Party, but now, some forty years after his death, he is almost forgotten and indeed unheard of by anyone under 50.

There are several reasons for this. Cody was essentially an exponent of ideas – religious, political, educational – but he wrote no books. He left a large number of sermon notes, manuscripts of speeches, and presidential reports. But these are not readily accessible, and even if they were, they would not be widely read.

Cody left a larger body of Cody Papers (chiefly in the Ontario Archives and the Archives of the University of Toronto). As in the case with most private papers, the voluminous correspondence in the Papers consists mainly of letters to Cody. There are comparatively few letters by Cody (the author was assured by a university archivist, Dr. Cody did not write many letters, he preferred to use the telephone), but there are a few very significant ones, such as a letter to his friend Tommy Des Barres, written after the death of Cody’s first wife, describing the continuing influence of the Christian faith in his life. A higher proportion of the letters are from Cody in the correspondence from the years after he became president of the University of Toronto than in that from his early life and his long rectorship at St. Paul’s. Cody’s diary, which he kept for most of his life, conveys more about his thoughts. The entries are terse, but often revealing, particularly when dealing with some slight or injustice.

Cody’s writings (sermon notes, speeches, presidential reports) give us a fair and full knowledge of Cody’s opinions on the great issues of his life. But to see what kind of man he was, we must depend largely on the reactions of other people, the people who wrote letters to him or who wrote letters about him after his death. Some of these are negative. One of his parishioners thought he was always seeking preferment in the Church (a curious idea about a man who refused the offer of several bishoprics, an archbishopric, and the principalship of two theological colleges). Political opponents resented what they regarded as his adroitness. On the whole, however, the Cody Papers enable us to build up the picture of a very humane person, highly regarded by the parishioners of St. Paul’s and by the many other men and women with whom he came in contact. He was a kindly man who had a genuine liking for people and a remarkable memory for names. Bishop Barfoot, a western Anglican bishop, recalled an incident when he was a young man: The memory I cherish most was an occasion in St. James Church, Saskatoon, when he spoke to me as he moved in procession down the aisle. ‘It’s Barfoot, surely,’ he said. I, an unknown and at that time very ill young man, was greatly healed and helped by that friendly notice.

Cody’s means of communicating his ideas was essentially through the oral rather than the written word. His sermons, his speeches across the country, his convocation addresses came to life when communicated through the force and magnetism of his personality. No one who heard him speak in public could forget the vigour and enthusiasm of his delivery.

In a sense Cody had two careers, the first in religion, the second in education. After becoming curate at St. Paul’s Church in 1893, he gradually took over the work of the parish under an aging rector and himself became rector in 1907, a position he held until 1932. He built up St. Paul’s to be one of the largest and most vital Anglican churches in Canada. During the same period he became a sort of ecclesiastical statesman in the Anglican Church and a dynamic lecturer at Wycliffe College. At the age of 64 Cody resigned from St. Paul’s and became president of the University of Toronto. He proved to be an able and courageous administrator who piloted the university through the later stages of the Great Depression and through World War II. He was a key figure in the famous Underhill case (Frank Underhill was a professor threatened with dismissal because of his wartime speeches).

While Cody appears to have had two careers, his life was less of a dichotomy than might be supposed. Cody did not see any real break in his career as a churchman and a university president. He stood for the values of a Christian society, with each person responsible for the gifts that God has given him or her. He had derived this ethic from the Christian community in rural Ontario out of which he came. It inspired his thinking just as surely when he was the minister of education for Ontario as when he was the president of a great university or when he was an active minister of the Anglican Church. Cody was an important man of his time. The events in which he took part had a formative influence on Canadian life, an influence still felt today. This man’s life and his ideals are eminently worthy of our consideration.

Chapter 1

Embro and Galt

Henry John Cody (Harry) was born in Embro, Ontario, on December 6, 1868. His father, Elijah John (1844–1927), was a member of a family that had lived in New England since the eighteenth century and had come to West Zorra Township early in the nineteenth century. Zorra was mainly a Scottish settlement of Highlanders from Sutherlandshire.¹ Harry’s paternal grandmother, a member of the Galspie family born in Sutherlandshire, was one of this Highland group.

Harry’s father had a long career in Embro, at varying times clerk and treasurer of Embro, magistrate, clerk of the Division Court, and postmaster, but his main occupation was as proprietor of a general store. He was also secretary-treasurer of the Bible Society for some forty years.

Harry’s mother (Elijah John’s first wife), Margaret Louisa Torrance (1842–83), was of Irish descent, born in Dublin. Her parents, Henry Torrance (1814–98) and Margaret (1826–1904), settled first in Woodstock and later in Galt.

Embro in the early 1870s was a comfortable rural community, with a population of about five hundred, mostly farmers (some of them Harry’s cousins), storekeepers, clergy, and schoolteachers. For railway connections, one had to go to Beachville six miles to the south on the Grand Trunk line. The village was almost entirely Protestant. The four churches (Presbyterian, Methodist, Baptist, and Congregational) were all of the evangelical variety. The Congregationalists had established Ebenezer Church in 1872 and built a new church in 1877 on St. Andrew’s Street. Since there was no Anglican church in Embro, Harry’s mother attended the Congregational church. She wrote to Harry in 1881, Mr. Silcox [the minister] continues to preach splendidly and his sermons are very instructive to the young people.²

North Oxford, in which Embro was located, had a strong Grit tradition. Harry later claimed that in the general election of 1878 when the National Policy came in, there were only seven Conservative votes polled in Embro.³ Harry’s parents were Tories, as were the Torrances in Galt. When Elijah met John A. Macdonald at a local Tory convention, John A. said it did his heart good to meet a Tory from Grit North Oxford.⁴

While Embro villagers travelled to nearby Woodstock and Galt to attend football tournaments, political meetings, and so on, Embro itself was not without culture. The presence of Protestant clergy in the village, especially the Scottish Presbyterians, made for stimulating discussion, at least for the more literate citizens. Harry later recalled, My grandmother was Scottish and the early life of the place was very much like what Ian Maclaren has described in sketches from Drumtochty, where the intellectual interests were very keen and there was a good deal of plain living and high thinking. From my earliest years, I can remember discussion in the Public Library on matters theological and philosophical, literary and political. In letters to Harry in 1881, Mrs. Cody reported the organization of a library fund and Elijah wrote of the setting up of a Mechanics’ Institute. In 1882, when Harry was at school in Galt, Elijah asked him to bring home readings for use in a Christmas concert organized by the Entertainment Committee.⁵

There was also the usual round of private parties. Elijah reported in March 1882, Miss Beales ‘that was’ is married and Mrs. Macaulay is giving a grand party this evening in honour of it. There were other private amusements the Codys considered less respectable. Elijah complained to Harry in October 1881, No local news of any account a great deal of whiskey drinking going on in the village.

Like other progressive villages, Embro had an elementary school. The original frame structure had been succeeded in 1876 by the new school on a different site. Harry attended both schools. E.J. Jamieson, the principal, wrote to Harry (now in Galt), reporting that the school had a large attendance with forty or fifty pupils in the class Harry had been in, of whom a few were studying Algebra and Euclid.⁶ Jamieson’s students had formed a debating society, while he had established a night school for the study of penmanship, bookkeeping, arithmetic, and composition. The quality of Jamieson’s work was indicated by the fact that Harry’s initial report after he had entered Galt Collegiate indicated that he was very well-grounded in Euclid.⁷

In 1880 Harry had gone to Woodstock, the county town, with a group of Embro students to write the entrance examinations. Having passed with flying colours, he went to Galt in the autumn of 1881 to live with his Torrance grandparents and attend Galt Collegiate. The Torrances reinforced the influence of Cody’s parents, particularly that of his mother. They were very Tory and very Anglican.

Harry was one of the boys of exceptional ability produced by small-town Ontario. From the first he did brilliantly at school. His relations with his parents seem to have been very happy. The Codys had only the one child, and the relations within the small family circle were quite exceptionally affectionate. Harry was considerate and performed his small household tasks well, such as splitting the kindling. When he left for Galt, he left a supply which lasted his parents for over a month. By modern standards, the letters that passed between Harry and his parents were effusive, typically beginning (from Elijah) My dear little son, My darling little son; (from Mrs. Cody) My precious boy, My own darling Henry; and (from Harry), My own dear darling Papa.

After Harry had gone to Galt in September 1881, his parents were lonely, but by October Mrs. Cody was beginning to adjust. Clearly, though, she was concerned with his welfare. On October 27 she adjured Harry (in the third person) that he will never write his letters on Sunday if it can be avoided – that he will not neglect to wash his feet every night well and that he will eat porridge sometimes. There was always a religious emphasis in Mrs. Cody’s letters and to a lesser extent in her husband’s. During Harry’s first autumn in Galt she urged him to join the Bible class run by one of his teachers, Mr. Carscadden, in the Methodist Sunday school, adding hopefully, You may find the boys better behaved there and it is so near home. She was concerned he had not already joined a Bible class but was glad he was joining a class in Greek on Sunday mornings, as it will not only be a benefit to you, but you will have the chance of studying the scriptures.⁸

Elijah said less about Harry’s spiritual welfare than about his political development. He urged Harry to go and hear Mr. Meredith (the Conservative provincial leader), who was to speak in Galt, and reported his own attendance at Tory conventions. One of his big moments was his brief chat with John A. at the Conservative Convention in 1882.

Harry’s parents were immensely proud of his early academic achievements. In returning to Harry the first report he had received from the principal of Galt Collegiate, Elijah wrote, He spoke very highly of my darling little son (September 1881), and after a second report (February 17, 1882), I am so well pleased with your last report ... It is such a comfort to pay fees, when I hear such good reports from my little son.

Harry’s correspondence in this period indicates that he was a friendly boy who got on well with his contemporaries. His friends wrote to him when they went on visits or had jobs outside Embro and Galt. Hugh Munro wrote chatty letters when he visited Fort Worth, Texas: Cotton is coming in here every day in bales; I go to the Baptist Sunday School here the rest of the boys call the teacher ‘Joe’ and yell out ‘Say Joe, what is this?’ and the like of that.⁹ Perhaps the best letter to Harry in this period came from Bob Duncan, who wrote from Embro on October 9, 1885. Duncan captured the spirit of a small Ontario town, describing a fall fair in Embro, the establishment of a debating club, a large purchase of books by the Mechanics’ Institute, and plans for making a roller-skating rink. The letter went on:

We had an amusing time the other day. The crowd was composed of as follows Messrs. E. Cody, Dickson Stuart, Kam J. Stuart, Halesham and Duncan Pell and the object of the fun was Milton Payne. Well your worthy governor [Elijah] prevailed on Milton to come over to Hank Kam’s barber shop and he (Kam) would play a tune and Milton would dance. We all went over and got Milton on the floor and of all the dancing you ever saw he only could shuffle his ponderous no. 1 and 2’s. We told him it was the best dancing we saw in years while our sides were breaking with laughter.

I have been out hunting one or two days and we have been feasting on partridge pie the last week. Man and boy who can possibly loan a gun is out shooting no harm done except the expenditure of powder and shot.

Bigger than Embro, Galt in 1873 had a population of nearly four thousand. According to Lovell’s Gazetteer, it possessed an impressive array of facilities: extensive water power, six churches, three branch banks, several insurance companies, two newspapers, twelve hotels, several large flour mills, an array of factories, and so on.¹⁰ It was a more exciting place than Embro with political meetings, football tournaments, and other entertainments.

The Galt period was an important stage in Harry’s life both academically and in a religious sense. Galt Collegiate presented something of a challenge to Harry. It was a fine school that enjoyed a national reputation, having been presided over by the famous educationalist Dr. William Tassie. Tassie had left in 1881, but his tradition of excellence continued.¹¹ In this stimulating atmosphere Harry blossomed. In preparation for university matriculation he embarked on a heavy schedule of classical studies, but he did well in numerous other subjects on the curriculum.¹² His first report was uniformly laudatory: Greek – Has made excellent start; Latin – Going to do capitally; arithmetic – Very good; algebra – Excellent; history – Excellent head for history. His second report was similar. That Harry was not too disgustingly perfect was revealed by the remarks on Conduct. His first report made the cryptic comment "a very good bad boy, while the second, signed by Kitty J. S. in February 1882, described his conduct as only middling. By October 1882 Harry was held in higher esteem – either that or Kitty J. S. had been overruled by the principal, who wrote, Conduct Excellent."¹³

The teachers at Galt took a friendly and enthusiastic interest in Harry. J.E. Bryant, the principal, was a sensitive and considerate man. He established a friendship with Harry that carried over into Harry’s time at the University of Toronto. Bryant retired from Galt Collegiate in 1884 and entered the publishing business in Toronto. D.S. Smith, the classics master, was equally interested in Harry, as was his successor, Logan, and the mathematics teacher, Thomas Carscadden. Bryant and Carscadden were both strong Christians, the latter conducting a Bible class in the Methodist Sunday school.

Harry’s turn toward Anglicanism probably began in Embro owing to the influence of his mother, although he attended the Congregational Church. There is good evidence that he had been baptized in Woodstock, probably by its famous rector William Bettridge, who served at St. Paul’s Woodstock from 1834 to 1874.¹⁴ According to Harry’s second wife, Barbara, Harry’s mother had had him baptized at her parents’ home in Woodstock by one of the local clergy.¹⁵ There seems to be no surviving church record of the baptism. Harry’s relations with the Congregational minister, Silcox, and with his son, C.E. Silcox, were always friendly.

Harry’s drift toward the Anglican Church was brought to completion during his stay in Galt. He attended Trinity Church with the Torrances and joined the Church of England Temperance Society when a branch was formed at Trinity Church in 1884. His pledge card was signed on June 5, 1884. J.P. Hincks, the rector, took a great interest in Harry. Harry later recalled that Hincks was a man about six feet three inches in height, thin and scholarly, eloquent and absent-minded. Boy as I was he made a very profound impression on my mind.¹⁶

Hincks probably presented Cody for confirmation. While a search of the Trinity Church records failed to reveal an entry for Harry’s confirmation, there is no reason to doubt Cody’s assertion to his wife Barbara that he was confirmed in Galt, probably by Bishop Maurice Baldwin.

Hincks subsequently encouraged Harry to enter the ministry. Writing to congratulate him on his fine showing in the matriculation examinations in 1885, he added, I would fain hope that, God willing, you may yet become an ‘able minister of the New Testament’ in connection with the dear old English Church in Canada, but in any event your truest friends (among whom may I be remembered?) will rejoice most in the persuasion that your talents and learning are consecrated to our Divine Master’s use. Hincks gave him a letter of introduction to his brother George, who was rector of St. Philip’s Church in Toronto: I am also happy to add that Mr. Cody is a consistent Evangelical Churchman, and he will be only too happy to render any service that may be assigned to him by his clergyman. I dare say he may find his way to St. Philips Church, but I know you will rejoice in making his acquaintance and will show him any attention in your power.¹⁷

Harry had truly become a convinced Anglican, and despite efforts by Presbyterian friends in Toronto to maintain a connection with him, he soon cultivated close relations with J.P. Sheraton, the principal of Wycliffe College, T.C. Des Barres, the rector of St. Paul’s Church, and other Anglicans.

It should be noted that while Cody came to accept the Anglicanism of his mother and his grandparents, he also shared with them a tolerant attitude toward other Christians, particularly of evangelical denominations. Neither Mrs. Cody nor the Torrances were narrowly denominational. Although Mrs. Cody had taken pains to have him baptized in the Anglican Church, she had also encouraged him to join the Methodist Bible class in Galt, and after he had gone to Toronto his grandmother was anxious for him to hear a sermon of the Presbyterian professor Gregory of Knox College.

In March 1883 Harry suffered a profound blow. His mother died quite suddenly. She was only 41 (1842–83). According to the Embro Courier, she had been suffering from a stomach disorder for several weeks but became dangerously ill early in the week of March 11. Friends sat with her, particularly Mrs. Silcox, the wife of the Congregational minister, but Mrs. Cody was not thought to be in great danger until the afternoon of Wednesday, March 14, when the pain became acute. She died just after 6 p.m. Harry later told Barbara that the doctor had given his mother the wrong medicine, but this was probably just a family suspicion.¹⁸ Harry arrived from Galt just a few minutes too late. Mrs. Silcox told him of her death and later told him of his mother’s wish that he enter the Christian ministry.¹⁹ J.B. Silcox took the funeral service.

Harry and his father received numerous letters of condolence, many of them couched in the devout language of the period. Principal Bryant of Galt, who had been at the funeral, wrote Harry a sympathetic letter. He took it for granted that Harry would not return to school until September and urged him not to spend too much of the intervening time in study but to begin to read more widely.

Take up some other reading than mere school work. Have you ever read Shakespeare? I think you could read some of his plays now with great benefit. I have been reading Macbeth today. That is why I think of him [Shakespeare] – and I wish some one had compelled me when I was your age. I should then have gained much in time and ease of acquirement. Commence with one of his historical plays ... I am going to try this summer to read all his plays. Don’t worry about your studies. Keep your health good by exercise, and as much as possible by riding drawing or playing. Write to me when you can.²⁰

While Bryant advised wide reading and plenty of exercise, D.S. Smith, the classics master, took a different line in his letter of condolence. He advised more study in classics and spelled out a formidable list of readings in Latin. He also sent a Greek grammar as a mark of personal esteem.²¹

There is no record of how Harry applied these rather conflicting recommendations. No doubt he put the time in Embro to good advantage. This period may well have helped lay the groundwork for his subsequent brilliant career in English and the classics at university. He had already begun to acquire the background that later showed in his superb use of English and classical quotations in his sermons and speeches.

Mrs. Cody’s death probably drew Cody closer to his father at least for a time. There was never a serious breach between them personally, although Harry told Barbara that he had not seen eye to eye with his father. Nevertheless, his relations with Elijah continued to be mutually affectionate.²²

Harry returned to Galt and to his grandparents’ home to resume his studies at the collegiate. He proposed to stay in Galt for two more years and wrote to his father on September 6, 1883, with this explanation:

I am in the form I wanted to be in last year namely the University Pass Matriculation form and have the same English and Mathematics as those who are trying to get a second class certificate, and have my Latin and Greek in the Senior Latin and Greek class. So I could go to the University next year [1884] in a pass course but I am too young and I want to go in an honours course. I am perfectly satisfied with my promotion.

There had been some changes in the staff. Smith, the classics master, had resigned, moving on to a post at the Ottawa Collegiate Institute. His farewell letter to Harry gave evidence of his high opinion of the young man: I was looking forward to a very happy year of work in Galt – knowing that you would be back once more amongst us to stimulate both master and pupil with your eager mind as well as your excellent heart.²³

Bryant was having trouble with his eyes and sought treatment in Hamilton. He tried to hang on as principal in 1883–84, but was compelled to retire at the end of the academic year. Now living in Toronto, he continued to write to Harry with advice and encouragement: (July 26, 1884) I think you should read some biography. If you have it in your library [Cody was in Embro for the summer] look over the first part of the life of F.W. Robertson – Select a few of the biographies accessible and send me their names and let me help you in choosing one. On August 2, 1884, Bryant recommended Plutarch’s Lives (I should choose a few of the best ... those whom you know to have a moral character) and some of Macaulay’s Life (especially that referring to his youth and character).

Harry continued to thrive at Galt Collegiate. He got on well with Carscadden, who succeeded Bryant as principal, and with C.S. Logan, the new classics master, to whom he had been recommended by Bryant. Harry had a high regard for Logan, later describing him as among the best teachers in Ontario.²⁴

Having passed the non-professional examinations at Galt with high honours in July 1884, Harry went to Toronto in June 1885 to write the matriculation examinations for admission to the University of Toronto. Bryant had written to him with further advice and an invitation to stay with the Bryants during his time in Toronto: Be sure not to work hard now. Take a great deal of sleep and a good deal of exercise. Avoid trying to get up new things now.²⁵

Harry’s performance at the examinations marked the beginning of an outstanding academic career. He matriculated with first-class honours in classics, mathematics, and modern languages, and won four scholarships: the Classical, Modern Languages, Prince of Wales, and General Proficiency.

It was a surprising performance and congratulations poured in from Harry’s teachers, fellow students, proud relatives, and others. Logan, who was staying in Peterborough for the summer, had told two Peterborough teachers about Harry’s brilliant prospects before the results came out. He reported, They looked rather incredulous, as I imagine they often hear such assertions. I have seen the masters since however and I was approached by them and they expressed considerable surprise at my being under the mark in what seemed to them a very rash assertion.²⁶ Grandpa Torrance’s letter of July 17 indicates the exuberance of his rejoicing:

When Mr. Woods came rushing down the steps his face lit up with joy and grasped me by the hand and congratulated me saying Harry won - four – scholarships – I was knocked into a cocked hat – poor Gran had just gone to post you a card. I rushed out in my excitement thinking I would be the first to send you the good news [he also sent a telegram on July 17] ... all Galt is stirred up you are spoken of by every one and we are congratulated coming from church – in the streets – in the stores – and calls at the house.

In all the chorus of praise, two letters were more muted. Hincks expressed warm congratulations in rather formal language but was concerned that Harry should not "commit the great error of overtaxing a facile brain or forget the good old maxim ‘mens sana in corpore sano’ [‘a healthy mind in a healthy body’]. R. Balmer, another Galt teacher, hoped Harry would not become a remote academic but would do some good in the world. He concluded dubiously, We are all anxious that what is undoubtedly a great force should also be a useful force. No elegant inutilities, my boy, no mere subtleties. The world has just now great needs, and we insist that the able skill [be] up and about to satisfy them."²⁷

It was advice Harry may well have pondered. In a certain way, the whole of his subsequent career was an attempt to meet Balmer’s demands.

Chapter 2

University, 1885–1889

When Cody came to Toronto in 1885, it was a comparatively small place, judged by modern standards, with a population of about 90,000. The boundaries of settlement ran from the waterfront to south of St. Clair and from High Park to the region just east of the lower Don River. When Cody went to St. Paul’s later as curate, most of his parishioners lived in the region of Jarvis Street, then considered the best residential street in the city, or in nearby Rosedale.

The University of Toronto, too, was comparatively small. University College (UC), a beautiful Gothic structure built in 1859, was the principal building. The only other two structures, both located south of UC, were Moss Hall, built in 1850, housing the medical school (destined to be replaced by the biology building in 1888), and the first School of Practical Science building, completed in 1878; but neither medicine nor science were yet affiliated with the university.

Registration was comparatively small. University College had about 250 students in 1867, 351 in 1881, and about 500 in 1889.¹ The students were mainly from Ontario, a large number from families of modest means. Out of 53 who graduated, 8 were from Toronto and 45 from other parts of Ontario. Of the 45, 40 had been brought up on farms.²

Until 1884 UC had been an exclusively male institution, having up to that time resisted the attempts of women students to gain admission. When Agnes Walls, a friend of Cody’s, asked him in 1887 whether women could take university courses, she was touching a sensitive nerve.³ The demand for admission of women was part of the women’s rights movement that characterized much of the nineteenth century. Canadian periodicals, particularly the Canadian Monthly, ran many articles on the subject in the 1880s. Sir Daniel Wilson, who became president of the university in 1881, was particularly opposed to the admission of women. He thought women were entitled to university training but should be taught in separate, all-female institutions. He confided to his diary on February 3, 1882. A deputation of ladies – strong-minded – bent on having the College thrown open to women, Parliament to be appealed to, etc., etc. I have had an inkling of this for some time, and kept it in view in writing certain letters to lady applicants which Parliament is welcome to peep into now if it has a mind.⁴ In spite of Sir Daniel, the Ontario government accepted the principle of co-education in 1884, and in October nine women entered UC as undergraduates. In 1888–89, thirty-nine were in attendance. Cody’s friend Tommy Des Barres wrote to him ruefully in May 1888: This will I think impress you – Miss Robson cleared all the fellows out in Moderns in our year.⁵

The academic staff, while small, included some men of distinction. Sir Daniel Wilson, for instance, was a scholar of note in the fields of English and history. Cody later recalled, It was his habit to read his familiar lectures with great enthusiasm, punctuated by his familiar phrase ‘Hence accordingly, gentlemen.’⁶ It was Wilson’s task to pilot UC through the negotiations that culminated in university federation. Ever since the secularization of the University of Toronto, the Ontario government (Canada West until 1867) had been confronted with the problem of how to support the denominational colleges (Victoria, Trinity, St. Michael’s, et al.) as well as UC. The act of federation of 1887 laid the basis for the scheme that would eventually provide a solution. Wilson was endlessly suspicious of what he regarded as the designs of the church colleges, particularly Victoria, to erode the position of UC in the proposed federation. However, University College survived and so did Wilson, who remained as president until 1892. Wilson was an evangelical, a founder of Wycliffe College, but he was a strong believer in the secularization of education. He thought the churches should confine their activities to theological seminaries like Wycliffe and Knox, leaving education in science and the arts to the secular authorities.

Among the rest of the staff of UC were two notable scholars, George Paxton Young and Maurice Hutton. Hutton, who became professor of classical literature in 1880 and later principal of UC, was an eloquent exponent of the civilizing influence of classical studies. Cody recalled that he was a lecturer of wonderful interest and possessed of the power of inspiring others in a marked degree and that "he took an individual interest in his students, an obiter dicta on men, politics and world movements were always extremely stimulating."⁷ Young, a great exponent of ethical idealism, will be discussed later.

W.J. Loudon, secretary of the class of 1880, provided a picture of student life in the period. He lived with his uncle, the dean of residence from 1867, and was himself an undergraduate from 1876 to 1880. Some of the students, chiefly the more affluent, lived in residence, where the cost was relatively high. The others, like Cody, boarded in the city and were called outsiders. Many of the outsiders supported themselves by outside jobs. One of Loudon’s friends was a boxing instructor in a city gymnasium. Loudon described the primitive character of college life.

The rooms in residence were heated by grate fires. The students studied by lamplight, a few by candle light in the earlier days. The dining hall of residence was heated by means of a large box stove, which burned wood. I have helped to chop down trees in the park to supply winter firewood for the residence stove. I have caught chub and shiners and an occasional speckled trout in the pond which lay near the road below Hart House, and have trapped wild rabbits in the bush which extended up the ravine to Bloor Street.⁸

The principal forms of non-academic activities in the college were the Literary and Scientific (later the Literary and Athletic) Society, formed in 1854. The Lit operated a reading room, supervised debates, and organized the great social event of the year, the Conversazione. Elections to the executive were fiercely contended and brought out the rivalry between the residence and the outsiders. In 1876 the presidential candidate of the Outside Party defeated the residential candidate after an all-night session. After 1876 election battles became less strenuous with the increase in the number of outside students, but the rivalry continued.

There was a good deal of drinking among the students. Loudon gave a spirited account of the Onion Club, a group of students that met in Sandy Innes’s rooms on Yonge Street. Fortified with beer, onions, cheese, and tobacco, they spent the evening in song, recitations, solos on the fiddle or banjo, and argumentative discussion.⁹ Not all the students were quite so uproarious. The non-drinkers enjoyed the staid activities of the YMCA, organized on the campus in 1873, and the University College Temperance League, established in 1883.

As a poor boy from rural Ontario, Cody was an outsider. He roomed for part of the time with his old friends the Bryants at 28 St. Mary Street, within easy walking distance of UC. One of his roommates was Howard Ferguson, later premier of Ontario. Ferguson, also a small-town boy, from Kemptville, Ontario, arrived at the university in 1887. He had arranged to room with Stephen Leacock, but his parents thought Leacock too sophisticated for Howard and arranged to have him room with Cody instead. It was the beginning of a life-long friendship, one of the most important Cody would have.

Cody went from one triumph to another in his academic career. He achieved high standing in the annual examinations, securing scholarships in classics, modern languages, and general proficiency in his first year, and in his second scholarships in general proficiency and modern languages, and medals in general proficiency, classics, and modern languages. At the beginning of his third year (in October 1887) he was awarded two additional scholarships, the Mulock and the George Brown. Cody was a little disappointed at his third-year results, but a confidential letter from a classics examiner, H.R. Fairclough, rather belied his pessimism. In four papers he had averaged over 88 percent.¹⁰

In his final year Cody swept the boards, winning the McCaul gold medal in classics, first-class honours in metaphysics, and the prize for the best English essay. He graduated with great credit in mathematics as well – his abilities and interests were not confined to the humanities alone.

By no means engrossed in his studies alone, Cody engaged in a wide range of extracurricular activities, many of them Christian in nature. He played a prominent part in the YMCA as a member of the executive and of the devotional committee. As an active member of the University Temperance League (a branch of the city Temperance League), he attended a number of temperance rallies in the city. Like some of his friends, Cody was horrified by the hazing of freshmen at the hands of second-year students. In his third year he helped to organize the Anti-Hazing League. He was elected president in February 1888, with A.T. DeLury (later a distinguished professor of mathematics) as secretary and Tommy Des Barres as third-year representative. But the league had only a brief career and was dissolved on February 8, 1889. Cody had some contacts with the Varsity, the student newspaper. After submitting an article by Archibald MacMechan, a former student, he was invited to submit articles of his own. He also participated in a few public debates at Convocation Hall, including one on December 16, 1886, on the resolution, Resolved that a proper function of the state is to provide facilities for higher education of the subject.

All these activities made Cody a well-known member of the student body, contributing to his greatest triumph as an undergraduate, his election as vice-president of the Literary Society in March 1888. This was a notable victory, particularly because Cody was an outsider, still a handicap though not as great as it had been a few years earlier. In the election of 1886 Cody had been defeated along with all outsider candidates. He did not run in the 1887 elections but continued to participate in the Lit debates. Finally, running as an Independent in 1888, Cody made it, defeating an old friend, A.H. Fraser, by a vote of 198 to 156.

Religion, politics, and university life comprised a full program for Cody, but he also took advantage of the theatrical attractions of Toronto, both professional and amateur. He saw The Merchant of Venice in the Grand Opera House; dramatic recitals by Mrs. Scott Siddons; Modjeska, the famous Polish actress, in Much Ado about Nothing; and Richard Keene as Richelieu and later Richard III. He saw an early performance of The Yeoman of the Guard, with Helen Lamont as Elsie Maynard, and The Bohemian Girl. There were also less prestigious performances like Mr. George Bedford’s dramatic and humorous recitals, including The Midnight Charge of Rassassin.

So much for the pattern of Cody’s university life. It remains to consider the broad areas of thought that occupied the university (and Cody) in this period. It was a time of intellectual ferment in the fields of politics, economics, and social development. There were signs of burgeoning Canadian nationalism, but the most obvious struggle was between those who saw Canada’s destiny as lying in close association with the United States (Goldwin Smith, Sir Richard Cartwright) and those who saw Canada’s destiny as lying within the British Empire (Macdonald, Sir George Parkin, D’Alton McCarthy, G.M. Grant, the Imperial Federation League). These latter saw no conflict between Canadian ambition and the British connection. They were Britons who were living in North America and were developing a unique culture, different from that of the mother country. Many of them regarded the United States as a money-grubbing, godless outfit. In the 1880s the National Policy was encountering