An Impression
Sitting in Convocation Hall during the unveiling of the two U. T. S. Memorial Tablets, one was impressed with the peculiar appropriateness of bronze as a substance upon which to inscribe a memorial or dedicate a sentiment. For bronze denotes permanency, and permanent indeed will be the tradition of the brave lads who went out from these schools to fight for King and country. Carved stone and chiselled marble, ever since ancient times, have been rivals of bronze as materials for artistic expression, but artists generally agree that it is not only the permanency of bronze that makes it desirable: it is desirable especially for the great beauty of tone that age imparts to its surface. Stone and marble crumble and decay, but bronze endures.
"Imbrowned with native bronze, lo!
Henley stands."
It is therefore appropriate that these tablets be of bronze. For the faith of the lads of these schools, the lads whose names appear on the tablets, was an enduring faith, and the memory of them also must endure. We feel that the spirit displayed by the boys of these schools has been intensely Canadian, the same spirit that Archibald Lampman must have felt when he wrote,
"Yet they quail not."
That, in any case, is what we felt as we sat and listened to the reading of the Roll of Honour on that beautiful Friday afternoon. We know that these were lads who had quailed not, who had faced duty unflinchingly, and we took to heart all the more readily Marshal AlIenby's splendid aphorism, as quoted by President Falconer in his inspiring address:
"Consequences are cowards, and always break away when faced boldly."
It was a simple memorial service. Simplicity always is inspiring, and when the flags covering the tablets were drawn aside, with the whole audience standing, and without any intrusion of the spectacular, one realized the sheer poignancy of the moment. It was more penetrating even than the playing of the Dead March as a prelude, and that of itself, on occasion, can be exquisite. One recognized the fine fitness of Prof. Crawford's avowal: "We like to think that their spirit also was, in some degree, a reflection of the spirit of their school; that, coming from a school which decries bullying, they were keen to pull clown the greatest bully of history; that 'coming from a school which teaches consideration for others, they considered not themselves; that coming from a school which inculcates manliness, they verily proved themselves men." Could there be a more acceptable deduction? Prof. Crawford touched the very quick of our sensibilities, and it would be an unresponsive mind indeed that could not divine the effect that these tablets, the simple record of these students' devotion, assuredly will have on all the great succession of boys who will pass through the portals where they have been placed.
After the unveiling, when the whole assemblage was in an attitude of reverence, a bugler from behind the phalanx of cadets who faced the platform, sounded "Last Post," and seldom does one hear anywhere, in any circumstances, a blast of sound at once so surprising, so effective, so overwhelmingly apropos. One scarcely breathed during the rendition. Then came "Reveille." How often had those splendid boys whose names stood out before us in bronze heard that rousing' call! At Valcartier they had heard it. At Camp Borden they had heard it. Aboard ship, at sea, among the great flotilla of transports, they had heard it. On Salisbury Plain, in the mud, in the rain, in the gray, cold morning, they had heard it. And then at last, somewhere in France, in the very teeth of battle, some of them had heard it for the last time. Was it the last? Who knows that they have not heard a greater reveille? Who knows that they have not been awakened to a still greater and more magnificent adventure: Here our philosophy halts, but it finds comfort for us in the satisfaction of believing that no matter to what bourne their spirits have gone, their real, or common, spirit, as it was revealed, remains as a tradition, a binding influence, a great heritage.
Newton MacTavish
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