If they will do that, as others have done before them, the ideals of the Collegiate School will
take root in the heart and brain of the country, and "not marble nor the gilded monuments of
princes" will outlive the work of the Scottish schoolmaster.'
from Editorial on the closing of the Collegiate School, Daily Gleaner, June 21 1902
Daily Gleaner, March 11, 1902
THE LATE MR. MORRISON.
JAMAICA
is ever so much poorer to-day by the
death of Mr. William Morrison, M.
A. Only those know
how much, who
realize the need the island has for
leaders of all kinds to raise the
people above the
commonness of their
comparatively low level of national existence.
Man's life is a many sided one and
he requires training in every aspect of
it. Mr. Morrison exercised influence in more
than one sphere, but
his life-work was
pre-eminently the education of the better-to-do youth
of the colony. It was quiet work,
accomplished day by day and year by
year, in the class-room; but quiet work
is in line with natural law,
and has
always the greatest and most lasting effect.
Through his hands passed many of the young men
now in business or in the
professions in the colony; he gave them
the knowledge which enabled them to
win
their way in life, and to become
factors in influencing others. The value of
his work is so diffused,
so extensive,
that it cannot be realized without an
effort. But when one recalls how potent
early training is
in determining character
and how the influence of one man
effects another and goes on spreading from
one to another in the community, it
will be seen how important a position
Mr. Morrison held and how great
his
opportunities were.
He felt this, and though he sometimes
wearied of the daily task he never lost
his
interest in the work, and he was
constantly being cheered by the grateful
remembrances and
acknowledgements of old pupils.
If he allowed his memory to
dwell on the succession of lads who had
trooped through his classroom he
must have been satisfied at heart, feeling that his life had not been a
poor or useless one. The verdict of the
public among whom he dwelt so long is
that it was
a kindly and
sympathetic life rich in
useful and upright action.
As
a journalist Mr. Morrison belongs to the
old school and never quite adapted himself to the new
methods. Even his writing
was of the old style which, in England
too, lingered here and there until a
few
years ago, but is now practically
extinct. So distinct was it from the
newer, lighter, and less weighty writing
that the articles he penned were always
known. Some of them were fiercely polemical,
in curious contrast
to his kind and
generous temperament, but he appeared to be
one of those, not uncommon, writers with
whom such a style is a kind of
art, cultivated by a second and
out-side self, and directed against another
impersonal opponent. But as a rule it
was wrong systems and ideas he attacked
and when it was
necessary he overwhelmed
them with the most powerful invective. On
the other
hand none could write
more sympathetically,
almost tenderly, on occasions, and his
frequent articles on the poor and poverty
of
Kingston had a grace which art could
not give.
He
was one of those who never left the
land into which he came to dwell. He
at once sent his roots down
deep into
its soil and he never cared even to
take a holiday abroad. Many of his
friends thought this a
mistake, and often
urged him to go and smell the
invigorating breath of the heather once
more. But he
stayed
on, though he never lost his love for
the old sweet homeland, and would often
sing of it and its
scenes in tuneful
vigorous verse that came straight from his
heart. It was only in dreams that "he
beheld
the Hebrides" across the world
of seas; and now he is laid to
rest beneath the palm trees and the
warm
tropical earth,
and his spirit rests in the calm of
the Great Eternal. The School is over,
and the tired
scholar has gone Home.