s into his shell, not only from the Cabinet but from his seat in
Durham, is a little hard on public patience. But of course the
chambered nautilus may emerge again.

Years ago Mr. Rowell had moral energy enough to reconstruct a large
part of the world in Liberalism and in the Methodist Church. Today he
finds evangelic Liberalism rampant out on the skyline under such men as
Crerar and Drury, and the church discussing social reformation in
phraseology associated with dynamic ideas to which he never could be
assimilated.

Mr. Rowell's career reminds us that there are four brands of Liberals
in Canada: Evolutionary; Manchester School; Laurierite; Agrarian.
Tories never evolve. There are only good Tories and bad ones.

He belongs to the first group, and there is nothing in his temperament
to make him anything else. Free Trade never did convince him; he broke
away from the enchanting tyranny of Laurier; and, though born on a
farm, he never could revert to the plough-handles for a vision of the
world.

Judging from some fairly recent preachments by able reverends such as
Wm. Woodsworth and Salem Bland, there may be as many brands of
Methodism. If so we unhesitatingly place Mr. Rowell in the
evolutionary group. Therefore by personal development he is next thing
to a Conservative; and the latest phase of his career proves that in
working it out he has practised the fine old platitude of Polonius to
Laertes:

"To thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man."

Mr. Rowell is one of our most encouraging types of what is called the
self-made man. Any Oxford professor hearing him make a typically good
speech in London on "The Commonwealth of Nations under the Union Jack,"
would infer that he had taken a post-graduate course in political
history after graduating as a B.A. But Mr. Rowell never even attended
a High School. He went from the farm as a lad to be a parcel boy in a
London, Ont., dry-good store. The class-meeting and the sermon and the
Mechanics' Institute gave him a taste for serious literature. He came
up in the oratorical county that produced G. W. Ross and J. A.
Macdonald. He must have regularly read Tannage's sermons. He was a
youth when the Y.M.C.A. movement invaded Canada along with baseball.
He made the choice. He passed into the Law School, somehow dodging all
the good brethren who advised him to go into the ministry. And thro