nation no rights outside Quebec?"

"What would you do?" I asked him. "What could you do?"

"Secede!" he exclaimed. "Become the Sinn Fein of Canada."

"What about the Pope of Rome?"

"Has as much to do with Quebec," he laughed icily, "as the President of
France. If the Pope should issue instructions to the bishops of
Quebec, asking the clergy to educate the people of Quebec on their duty
to go to war or to vote for either of the old line parties, the people
would openly disregard them. We would as much resent the interference
of Rome in our affairs as the American colonies did the tyranny of
George the Third."

Here was the superb inconsistency of the French mind wedded to a single
magnificent idea. This Nationalist admitting the possibility of
secession, made sure that it would not be to the United States which
puts the French language on a par with Choctaw. When I suggested as a
recipe for national unity that French and English be learned by both
English and French all over Canada, he flouted the idea of
French-Canadians learning more English than they needed in business,
and of English-Canadians learning French at all. He fervently held to
the Keltic notion of making a preserve of the French-Canadian race,
language, literature and customs whatever may become of the religion;
yet he objected to penning the race into a reservation like the
Indians. He observed that in 1911 the Nationalists bucked reciprocity
with the United States.

"I think we should become an independent republic," he said as he
plopped a fresh cigarette. "We have the main part of the St. Lawrence.
No, you will not find Gouin say so. Gouin is a Tory prefect. He plays
politics, not nationalism."

I observed that the band was about to play.

"Ha!" he exclaimed, stretching his legs with a yawn. "And the concert
will conclude with that amiable farce, 'O Canada,' followed by 'God
Save the King.'"

This Nationalist interview is given at some length because it
illustrates much of what Sir Lomer Gouin is not, and if he were would
not openly say so, because he stands for a majority the watchword of
which is "Stop, Look, Listen". I went at once to see the Premier. He
was closeted with confiding--perhaps confederate--priests, and with
simple habitant folk who stood, not in awe but in affection, of the
Premier. He might have been himself a father confessor.

Talking to him I found Gouin peculiarly on his guard; broad-faced,
heavy-jawed