TORONTO - One thing John Tory says he learned from his failed 2003 attempt to become mayor of Toronto was to stick to his principles -- ignore advisers if they try to convince you to adopt a stance that might win you votes but cost you your integrity.

"You can't go wrong doing the right thing,'' the Progressive Conservative leader likes to say.

That desire to stand up for "matters of principle'' -- even when they aren't "universally popular''-- has sorely tested Tory, who stands battered and bruised after a difficult and rocky campaign as he places his fate in the hands of Ontario voters.

Tory has been criticized for throwing away the provincial election he has been working toward for years by staunchly arguing in favour of extending public funding to all religious schools in Ontario that opt into the public system.

The impact of one single policy plank, which inadvertently transformed the election into an unofficial referendum on religious school funding, hit home in the final days of the campaign when Tory found a Liberal sign pitched on the lawn of his childhood Toronto home.

The owners of the home, which resides in the same riding where Tory is said to be in the fight of his political life, cited the Conservative position on religious schools as a major reason for supporting the Liberals.

Tory laughed it off, but many suspect it's a bitter pill for the man who was supposed to topple an eminently beatable Liberal premier and lead the Conservatives back to power in Ontario.

It's especially hard for a man who has spent a lifetime running other people's campaigns -- notably Brian Mulroney and ill-fated successor Kim Campbell -- while waiting for his chance to step into the spotlight and become Ontario's next premier.

"The best place that you can help the most is in politics,'' Tory said recently in an interview.

"If you look at the range of things you can do to help make a difference and change things, it's in politics.''

Since he bought his first Conservative membership at the age of 14 and ran a mayoral campaign while studying law at York University, Tory has had a hard time staying away. While he's worked as a lawyer, the head of Rogers Cable and chairman of the Canadian Football League, his real passion has always been politics.

According to family lore, Tory was running Toronto mayoral candidate David Crombie's campaign in 1976 when he tried to pick up his future wife by asking her, "What ward do you live in?''

Their "hot date'' was a Conservative convention in Quebec City, where Tory laid out his vision for their shared future after a "liquid lunch'' on the Plains of Abraham.

When he won the party leadership in 2003, the Liberals wasted no time labelling Tory "Richie Rich'' and handed out silver spoons to remind people that his origins aren't exactly humble.

His father built the influential Torys LLP law firm with his brother and counted Ted Rogers, founder of Rogers Communications, among the family friends.

Tory was educated at the private and prestigious University of Toronto Schools before following in his father's footsteps and studying law. It was at an extra-curricular French class that he first met Barbara Hackett. She was engaged and he was seeing someone else, but they soon hit it off.

The day she walked in without her engagement ring on, Tory pounced and asked her out. Despite his earlier promise to get out of politics, Hackett knew what she was getting -- a man with restless ambition who is happiest working 16 hours a day and "too driven'' to take long vacations.

"John's always off doing something,'' said Hackett, mother of their four children. "Even when he was in the private sector, he was always doing something for charities and taking a leading role.''

That's meant juggling political campaigns, charitable organizations and heading up the CFL while raising their large family. Although Tory said "you can never spend too much time with your children,'' he stops short of saying he regrets not being around more while John Jr., Christopher, Susan and George were growing up.

"I've learned from that,'' he said. "I don't think it was a mistake, but lots of people look back on how they spend different portions of your life, and you learn lessons from it. You can't relive your own life, but you can share that wisdom with others.''

Regardless of the outcome of the Oct. 10 election, Tory said he is determined to spend more time with his grandchildren -- the first of which is due to arrive in October.

On the campaign trail, he proudly told anyone who would listen about the arrival of his granddaughter and even bought a hot-pink baby t-shirt that read "What happens at grandma's, stays at grandma's'' while mainstreeting one day in Stouffville, Ont.

Tory has made his share of political mistakes, most notably on Campbell's disastrous 1993 federal campaign, which ended up reducing the Conservative government to just two seats and ushering in a 12-year Liberal dynasty in Ottawa.

This time, he tailored his campaign around leadership, promising to find $1.5 billion in "efficiencies,'' crack down on crime and keep his promises. He went to great pains to separate himself from the previous Conservative regime of Mike Harris and its deep cuts to schools and social programs.

Where Harris goaded unions, Tory sought their co-operation. Where Harris talked tough about welfare recipients and panhandlers, Tory talked sympathetically about the plight of "vulnerable people'' and was brought to tears talking about the plight of the poor.

But all of that was eclipsed by his promise to fund religious schools.

Although mentor and confidante Bill Davis -- the former Ontario premier who hired Tory virtually out of school to work at the legislature -- predicted Tory's campaign would be virtually flawless, experts and Conservatives described the religious-schools debacle as a colossal miscalculation.

The issue dominated Tory's campaign, turning off many core Conservatives and alienating undecided voters. Despite advice from caucus members and strategists, Tory stuck to his guns and endured a beating from voters as he stubbornly canvassed door-to-door with the media in tow.

With just over a week left, Tory gave into the pressure. He reiterated his support for the proposal, but promised a free vote in the legislature -- the equivalent of a death sentence. The about-face eased the pressure on Conservative candidates, but came too late to budge the polls.

"Faith-based funding very quickly became a John Tory issue and not a Conservative party issue,'' said David Docherty, dean of arts at Wilfrid Laurier University.

"It's too bad because he really is a consensus politician. It's too bad that the one issue that's defined this campaign is one that's divided the population, because that's not what he's all about.''