PROCEEDINGS FOR 1899 XXVII 



Mr. Lampman, we now know, had been suffering for a long time- 

 from a dangerous constitutional infirmity which unfitted him for the- 

 excitement or turmoil of life, and all of us who knew him well and 

 admired his genius must always regret that so fine a mind should have 

 been so long exposed to the depressing influences of a petty government 

 office. How happy might have been his life, how rich might have been 

 the fruition of his own poetic growth could he have realized his own 

 poetic dream. 



" Oh for a life of leisure and broad hours 



To think and dream, to put away small things, 

 This world's perpetual leagueT of dull naughts ; 

 To wander like the bee among the flowers 

 Till old age find us weary, feet and Avings 

 Grown heavy with the gold of many thoughts." 



He has left behind him only three small volumes of poems — one 

 soon to appear under the auspices of friends — but while the number of 

 his printed pages are insignificant they are full of poetic inspiration, and 

 no Canadian poet has equalled him perhaps, in literary finish and rhyth- 

 mical flow of verse. 



He was a Canadian by birth and education — essentially a product 

 cf Canadian intellect — a descendant of one of those Loyalist families 

 who came to the valley of the St. Lawrence in 1703 and were the British 

 makers of Canada at the most critical stage of our young nation's growth. 

 Everywhere do we find in his poems "the flavour of his own native soil," 

 his deep love for the trees, flowers, and the varied aspect of Canadian 

 scenery. An English critic has truly said that '' in one short poem 

 ' Heat ' he has succeeded in producing alike in colour, atmosphere and 

 sentiment, the most perfect expression of Canadian landscape that has 

 ever been achieved in poetry or prose." In another short poem 

 " Between the Rapids " he has also touched a chord of sentiment which 

 makes '' the whole world kin " and shows how delicate and tender was 

 tlie heart of the poet. 



Dr. Kingsford's voluminous contributions to Canadian letters, from 

 tlioir practical character and absence of artistic finish, are in striking 

 contrast with the poet's little bcoks of pure imagination. He was a most 

 conscientious student of Canadian history, and the ten volumes he has 

 left behind him are the results of many years of labour under great dis- 

 advantages. His work is not distinguished by any grace of style, but his 

 language is plain and simple in the extreme, and his great defect is dif- 

 fusiveness or an inability for condensation. The reader can never look 



