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A。 W。 Hutton。 Cardinal Manning。

J。 E。 C。 Bodley。 Cardinal Manning and Other Essays。

F。 W。 Cornish。 The English Church in the Nineteenth Century。

Dean Church。 The Oxford Movement。

Sir J。 T。 Coleridge。 Memoir of the Rev。 John Keble。

Hurrell Froude。 Remains。

Cardinal Newman。 Letters and Correspondence in the English

Church。

Apologia pro Vita Sua。

Wilfrid Ward。 Life of  Cardinal Newman。 W。 G。 Ward and the Oxford

Movement。 W。 G。 Ward and the Catholic Revival。 Life of Cardinal

Wiseman。

H。 P。 Liddon。 Life of E。 B。 Pusey。

Tracts for the Times; by Members of the University of Oxford。

Lord Morley。 Life of Gladstone。

Lives of the Saints; edited by J。 H。 Newman。

Herbert Paul。 Life of J。A。 Froude。

Mark Pattison。 Autobiography。

T。 Mozley。 Letters from Rome on the Occasion of the Oecumenical

Council。

Lord Acton。 Letters。

H。 L。 Smith and V。 Nash。 The Story of the Dockers' Strike。







Florence Nightingale



EVERY one knows the popular conception of Florence Nightingale。

The saintly; self…sacrificing woman; the delicate maiden of high

degree who threw aside the pleasures of a life of ease to succour

the afflicted; the Lady with the Lamp; gliding through the

horrors of the hospital at Scutari; and consecrating with the

radiance of her goodness the dying soldier's couch。  The vision

is familiar to all but the truth was different。 The Miss

Nightingale of fact was not as facile as fancy painted her。 She

worked in another fashion and towards another end; she moved

under the stress of an impetus which finds no place in the

popular imagination。 A Demon possessed her。 Now demons; whatever

else they may be; are full of interest。 And so it happens that in

the real Miss Nightingale there was more that was interesting

than in the legendary one; there was also less that was

agreeable。



Her family was extremely well…to…do; and connected by marriage

with a spreading circle of other well…to…do families。 There was a

large country house in Derbyshire; there was another in the New

Forest; there were Mayfair rooms for the London season and all

its finest parties; there were tours on the Continent with even

more than the usual number of Italian operas and of glimpses at

the celebrities of Paris。 Brought up among such advantages; it

was only natural to suppose that Florence would show a proper

appreciation of them by doing her duty in that state of life unto

which it had pleased God to call herin other words; by

marrying; after a fitting number of dances and dinner…parties; an

eligible gentleman; and living happily ever afterwards。 Her

sister; her cousins; all the young ladies of her acquaintance;

were either getting ready to do this or had already done it。



It was inconceivable that Florence should dream of anything else;

yet dream she did。 Ah! To do her duty in that state of life unto

which it had pleased God to call her! Assuredly; she would not be

behindhand in doing her duty; but unto what state of life HAD it

pleased God to call her? That was the question。 God's calls are

many; and they are strange。 Unto what state of life had it

pleased Him to call Charlotte Corday; or Elizabeth of Hungary?

What was that secret voice in her ear; if it was not a call? Why

had she felt; from her earliest years; those mysterious

promptings towards。。。 she hardly knew what; but certainly towards

something very different from anything around her? Why; as a

child in the nursery; when her sister had shown a healthy

pleasure in tearing her dolls to pieces; had SHE shown an almost

morbid one in sewing them up again? Why was she driven now to

minister to the poor in their cottages; to watch by sick…beds; to

put her dog's wounded paw into elaborate splints as if it was a

human being? Why was her head filled with queer imaginations of

the country house at Embley turned; by some enchantment; into a

hospital; with herself as matron moving about among the beds? Why

was even her vision of heaven itself filled with suffering

patients to whom she was being useful? So she dreamed and

wondered; and; taking out her diary; she poured into it the

agitations of her soul。 And then the bell rang; and it was time

to go and dress for dinner。



As the years passed; a restlessness began to grow upon her。 She

was unhappy; and at last she knew it。 Mrs。 Nightingale; too;

began to notice that there was something wrong。 It was very odd

what could be the matter with dear Flo? Mr。 Nightingale suggested

that a husband might be advisable; but the curious thing was that

she seemed to take no interest in husbands。 And with her

attractions; and her accomplishments; too! There was nothing in

the world to prevent her making a really brilliant match。 But no!

She would think of nothing but how to satisfy that singular

craving of hers to be DOING something。 As if there was not plenty

to do in any case; in the ordinary way; at home。 There was the

china to look after; and there was her father to be read to after

dinner。 Mrs。 Nightingale could not understand it; and then one

day her perplexity was changed to consternation and alarm。

Florence announced an extreme desire to go to Salisbury Hospital

for several months as a nurse; and she confessed to some

visionary plan of eventually setting up in a house of her own in

a neighbouring village; and there founding 'something like a

Protestant Sisterhood; without vows; for women of educated

feelings'。 The whole scheme was summarily brushed aside as

preposterous; and Mrs。 Nightingale; after the first shock of

terror; was able to settle down again more or less comfortably to

her embroidery。 But Florence; who was now twenty…five and felt

that the dream of her life had been shattered; came near to

desperation。



And; indeed; the difficulties in her path were great。 For not

only was it an almost unimaginable thing in those days for a

woman of means to make her own way in the world and to live in

independence; but the particular profession for which Florence

was clearly marked out both by her instincts and her capacities

was at that time a peculiarly disreputable one。 A 'nurse' meant

then a coarse old woman; always ignorant; usually dirty; often

brutal; a Mrs。 Gamp; in bunched…up sordid garments; tippling at

the brandy bottle or indulging in worse irregularities。 The

nurses in the hospitals were especially notorious for immoral

conduct; sobriety was almost unknown among them; and they could

hardly be trusted to carry out the simplest medical duties。



Certainly; things HAVE changed since those days; and that they

have changed is due; far more than to any other human being; to

Miss Nightingale herself。 It is not to be wondered at that her

parents should have shuddered at the notion of their daughter

devoting her life to such an occupation。 'It was as if;' she

herself said afterwards; 'I had wanted to be a kitchen…maid。' Yet

the want; absurd and impracticable as it was; not only remained

fixed immovably in her heart; but grew in intensity day by day。

Her wretchedness deepened into a morbid melancholy。 Everything

about her was vile; and she herself; it was clear; to have

deserved such misery; was even viler than her surroundings。 Yes;

she had sinned'standing before God's judgment seat'。 'No one;'

she declared; 'has so grieved the Holy Spirit'; of that she was

quite certain。 It was in vain that she prayed to be delivered

from vanity and hypocrisy; and she could not bear to smile or to

be gay; 'because she hated God to hear her laugh; as if she had

not repented of her sin'。



A weaker spirit would have been overwhelmed by the load of such

distresses would have yielded or snapped。 But this

extraordinary young woman held firm; and fought her way to

victory。 With an amazing persistency; during the eight years that

followed her rebuff over Salisbury Hospital; she struggled and

worked and planned。 While superficially she was carrying on the

life of a brilliant girl in high society; while internally she

was a prey to the tortures of regret and of remorse; she yet

possessed the energy to collect the knowledge and to undergo the

experience which alone could enable her to do what she had

determined she would do in the end。 In secret she devoured the

reports of medical commissions; the pamphlets of sanitary

authorities; the histories of hospitals and homes。 She spent the

intervals of the London season in ragged schools and workhouses。

When she went abroad with her family; she used her spare time so

well that there was hardly a great hospital in Europe with which

she was not acquainted; hardly a great city whose shims she had

not passed through。 She managed to spend some days in a convent

school in Rome; and some weeks as a 'Soeur de Charite' in Paris。

Then; while her mother and sister were taking the waters at

Carlsbad; she succeeded in slipping off to a nursing institution

at Kaiserswerth; where she remained for more than three months。

This was the critical event of her life。 The experience which she

gained as a nurse at Kaiserswerth formed the foundation of all

her future action and finally fixed her in her career。



But one other trial awaited her。 The allurements of the world she

had brushed aside with disdain and loathing; she had resisted the

subtler temptation which; in her weariness; had sometimes come

upon her; of devoting her baffled energies to art or literature;

the last ordeal appeared in the shape of a desirable young man。

Hitherto; her lovers had been nothing to her but an added burden

and a mockery; but now for a moment she wavered。 A new

feeling swept over hera feeling which she had never known

before which she was never to know again。 The most powerful and

the profoundest of all the instincts of humanity laid claim upon

her。 But it rose before her; that instinct; arrayedhow could it

be otherwise? in the inevitable habiliments of a Victorian

marriage; and she had the strength to stam

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