West. Since 1889 I have been following her career with a glow of
admiration and sympathy. I have been delighted to find that this
success of hers had no damaging effect upon the grand simplicity of
her nature. Up to the day of her death her passionate sympathy with
the aborigines of Canada never flagged, as shown by such poems as
"The Cattle Thief", "The Pilot of the Plains", "As Red Men Die",
and many another. During all this time, however, she was cultivating
herself in a thousand ways--taking interest in the fine arts, as
witness her poem "The Art of Alma-Tadema". Her native power of
satire is shown in the lines written after Dreyfus was exiled,
called "'Give us Barabbas'". She had also a pretty gift of vers de
societe, as seen in her lines "Your Mirror Frame".

Her death is not only a great loss to those who knew and loved her:
it is a great loss to Canadian literature and to the Canadian
nation. I must think that she will hold a memorable place among
poets in virtue of her descent and also in virtue of the work she
has left behind, small as the quantity of that work is. I believe
that Canada will, in future times, cherish her memory more and more,
for of all Canadian poets she was the most distinctly a daughter of
the soil, inasmuch as she inherited the blood of the great primeval
race now so rapidly vanishing, and of the greater race that has
supplanted it.

In reading the description of the funeral in the "News-Advertiser,"
I was specially touched by the picture of the large crowd of silent
Red Men who lined Georgia Street, and who stood as motionless as
statues all through the service, and until the funeral cortege had
passed on the way to the cemetery. This must have rendered the
funeral the most impressive and picturesque one of any poet that