meeting fresh events with
the same fearlessness and serenity of spirit as she had met the
uncertainties and difficulties of life."

One of her nieces was with her the whole of that last day. After Dr.
Ethel Williams's visit, when for the first time Elsie Inglis realized
that the last circle of her work on earth was complete, she said to her
niece, "It is grand to think of beginning a new work over there!"

By the evening her sisters were with her. To the very last her mind was
clear, her spirit dominant. Her confident "I know," in response to every
thought and word of comfort offered to her, was the outward expression
of her inward State of Faith.

What made her passing so mighty and full of triumph? Surely it was the
"Power of an Endless Life," that idea to which she had committed herself
years ago as she had stood at the open grave where the first seemingly
hopeless good-bye had been said. The Power of that Endless Life, the
Life of Christ, carried her forward on its mighty current into the New
Region shut out from our view, but where the Life is still the same.

We have watched through these pages the widening circles of Elsie
Inglis's life. Her medical profession, The Hospice, the Women's
Movement, the Scottish Women's Hospitals, Serbia, her achievements in
Russia--these we know of; the work which has been given to her now is
beyond our knowledge; but "we look after her with love and admiration,
and know that somewhere, just out of sight, she is still working in her
own keen way," circle after circle of service widening out in endless
joyousness.

On Thursday, November 29, St. Giles's Cathedral in Edinburgh was filled
with a great congregation, assembled to do honour to the memory of Elsie
Inglis. She was buried with military honours. At the end of the service
the Hallelujah Chorus was played, and after the Last Post the buglers of
the Royal Scots rang out the Reveille. From the door of the Cathedral to
the Dean Cemetery the streets were lined with people waiting to see her
pass. "Dr. Inglis was buried with marks of respect and recognition which
make that passing stand alone in the history of the last rites of any of
her fellow-citizens." It was not a funeral, but a triumph. "What a
triumphal home-coming she had!" said one friend. And another wrote: "How
glorious the service was yesterday! I don't know if you intended it, but
one impression was uppermost in my mind, which became more distinct
after I left, unt