William Lyon Mackenzie King. lian goodall

Industrial Revolution, King “was simply enraptured by his writings…” He confessed to his diary “I have at last found a model for my future work in life.” He also attended talks at a conference on Education and Religion given by another person who had been inspired by Toynbee. The famous American settlement worker, Miss Jane Addams, had been spurred to action by Toynbee’s example. Willie was thinking that social work combined with the ministry might be a fine way to make a difference in the world.

      Willie was aware that politicians were also people who had the power to perform good works. He greatly admired the famous Liberal Prime Minister William Ewart Gladstone, who had just served his fourth term as prime minister of Britain. The young student knew that one of the earliest good works the politician had performed was to rescue girls who had “fallen” into prostitution.

      Above all these examples of thinking and acting people was Grandfather. With his eyes opened wide, Willie read a biography of Mackenzie written by Uncle Charles Lindsey. He was especially stirred by Mackenzie’s love of the poor, “the humble and the lowly.” He felt his grandfather’s blood “coursing through my veins,” and his heart beat more quickly with resolve to make his mark by helping others.

      Sick Children’s Hospital, Toronto

      January 6, 1894

      King watched the little girl on the bed struggle with death. Her breathing was so shallow that it could not be heard over the gentle swish, swish of the nurses’ long starched skirts as they came and went.

      “Katie,” he said softly. Her eyes fluttered open. “Shall I say a prayer? Shall we pray that your family will draw nearer our Lord as you have?” he asked her. “Then they will have a beautiful home in the hereafter,” he continued, “just like the one that waits for you.”

      Katie smiled, but she could no longer speak. King began to pray out loud. In his mind, he also prayed that soon Katie’s earthly suffering would end and her eternal reward begin.

      Almost every Sunday since he had arrived in Toronto, King had conducted religious services and read Sunbeam stories to the children at the Sick Children’s Hospital. He loved his time with the eager children and the dear nurses, whom he also sought to guide towards eternal life through letters and talks.

      When Katie Cameron’s bright little spark went out, King thought about what she had told him about the terrible life she had lived. She had confidentially confessed some of the things that she and her sister had done to survive. King knew it was time to do more, to take his work beyond the hospital walls. Shortly after the last hymns were sung at little Katie’s funeral, Willie called on her parents. Next he went to see her sister and spoke to her about stopping “her wicked life” and turning to Christ. Nina cried a little and seemed ready to repent. Encouraged, King went back to visit her another time at Mrs. Sherman’s boarding house, but instead learned she was at a different house on King Street. When he arrived he found “a young fellow there, a perfect scoundrel, I believe, who has wished to marry her, but she refused him and decided to come with me to Mrs. Sherman’s.” Once there they had a long, quiet talk, “a little hymn and a little prayer.”

      Over the next while King devoted a lot of energy to helping Nina. In his diary, he never really says what she was doing, but despite her good intentions, it seems change wasn’t possible. A few months later Nina was arrested and imprisoned for theft. Shortly after, young King, like his hero Gladstone, tried to help a prostitute, but his efforts weren’t as persistent after he had met failure with Nina.

      His time prior to graduation was very busy, filled with social work and political activities. King had become involved with a student strike to protest favouritism in hiring staff and the wrongful dismissal of a professor at the university. Before a large crowd of his classmates, Rex spoke excitedly against the “tyranny” of the university administration and called for a government investigation. The university did not seem to appreciate his actions. Shortly after his graduation with a Bachelor of Arts degree in 1895, King applied for a scholarship so he could do a master’s degree at the University of Toronto. His request was denied. Willie and his parents were furious.

      Willie had made the same application to the University of Chicago and was cheerfully offered a small scholarship. At that time, King felt it was impossible to continue his education. His family was swimming in debt and Max was eying university too. Finances were so bad that John took out another loan and Bella and Jennie were thinking of taking up jobs to help! Willie decided to work for a year and study independently. In the evenings he and a friend studied for their law degrees under John Kings watchful eye. Willie earned money by tutoring others, and he also found employment in a series of writing jobs with Toronto papers.

      He knew he didn’t want to be a journalist and he was coming to the conclusion that he didn’t want to be a practising lawyer either. His father was disappointed, but Willie continued to study so that he could at least have a degree in law. He wasn’t sure which career he should chose – minister, politician, social worker or – who knew – professor? Clearly he needed more education. King soothed himself with the thought that his work on his master’s degree was merely postponed. He wrote in his diary that covering police court and other stories was a good way to see “the shadowy side of life, looking at everything from an eco[nomic] standpoint. I will derive great benefit from my after work. I fully intend to made academic work my profession and am taking journalism as an entire year of practical example in the great school of life.”

      By spring his life would change.

      Toronto

      May 2, 1896

      King spent the morning in court covering the story of two fourteen-year-old girls who had been arrested for the theft of several rings. It had been the usual morning of the sublime and the ridiculous, with fainting and other dramatic effects, to which, by now, he was accustomed. After the girls had been sentenced to jail, and court had adjourned, King left the dreary courthouse and went out into the lovely spring sunshine. He had a shave and a shoeshine and then did some shopping. He bought a silk tie and some kid gloves for evening outings and a cane of Congo oak with a silver tip. He left the walking stick at Kent’s to have his initials, W.L.M.K., engraved on it for an extra fifteen cents.

      With a jaunty step, he strolled on to meet his friend Henry Kingstone. The two set off to keep a theatre date with Charlie Cross, Willie’s partner in his legal studies. On the way there they called on an old lady by the name of Mrs. Menden. Mrs. Menden was a fortuneteller. She divulged some “strange truths” to Willie.

      She said I had left study for a while and was at commercial work (newspaper) which was a pity. I should keep at the other profession.

      Had thought of ministry and might get into it. Tho’ now not as religious as I ought to be.

      That my initials were W. M. and last name King, first name Willie.

      I was fond of intellectual girls, and did not care particularly for dances etc.

      Was fond of children, and practical.

      Would live to be old and would be successful.

      Wd. go to Chicago this fall and wd. hear of appointment in about 10 days.

      Four days later King had a letter from the University of Chicago once again offering him a fellowship to study political economics and sociology. King Senior was pleased. So was Isabel, although she cried and slept badly. Willie would be leaving them.

      Willie knew he could not miss this opportunity to begin fulfilling his dreams. In Chicago he hoped to study, do original work, and take steps towards achieving his goals. He told himself that he would be nearer the masses he wanted to serve more seriously, so that he would be “drawn closer to the living God.” Willie had no rest, for there was a voice that whispered, night and day, Go to Chicago, go to Chicago. He packed his trunk.