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the Holy Ghost。 This I have never failed to do to this day。 To
this I owe the light and faith which brought me into the
truefold。 I bought all the books I could about the Holy Ghost。 I
worked out the truths about His personality； His presence； and
His office。 This made me understand the last paragraph in the
Apostles' Creed； and made me a Catholic Christian。'
So； though Death came slowly； struggling step by step with that
bold and tenacious spirit； when he did come at last the Cardinal
was ready。 Robed in his archiepiscopal vestments； his rochet； his
girdle； and his mozzetta； with the scarlet biretta on his head；
and the pectoral cross upon his breast； he made his solemn
Profession of Faith in the Holy Roman Church。 A crowd of lesser
dignitaries； each in the garments of his office； attended the
ceremonial。 The Bishop of Salford held up the Pontificale and the
Bishop of Amycla bore the wax taper。 The provost of Westminster；
on his knees； read aloud the Profession of Faith； surrounded by
the Canons of the Diocese。 Towards those who gathered about him；
the dying man was still able to show some signs of recognition；
and even； perhaps； of affection； yet it seemed that his chief
preoccupation；
up to the very end； was with his obedience to the rules
prescribed by
the Divine Authority。 'I am glad to have been able to do
everything in
due order'； were among his last words。 'Si fort qu'on soit；' says
one
of the profoundest of the observers of the human heart； 'on peut
eprouver
le besoin de s'incliner devant quelqu'un ou quelque chose。
S'incliner devant
Dieu； c'est toujours le moins humiliant。'
Manning died on January 14th； 1892； in the eighty…fifth year of
his age。 A few days later Mr。 Gladstone took occasion； in a
letter
to a friend； to refer to his relations with the late Cardinal。
Manning's conversion was； he said； 'altogether the severest blow
that ever befell me。 In a late letter the Cardinal termed it a
quarrel； but in my reply I told him it was not a quarrel； but a
death； and that was the truth。 Since then there have been
vicissitudes。 But I am quite certain that to the last his
personal feelings never changed； and I believe also that he kept
a promise made in 1851； to remember me before God at the most
solemn moments； a promise which I greatly valued。 The whole
subject is to me at once of extreme interest and of considerable
restraint。' 'His reluctance to die；' concluded Mr。 Gladstone；
'may
be explained by an intense anxiety to complete unfulfilled
service。'
The funeral was the occasion of a popular demonstration such as
has rarely been witnessed in the streets of London。 The route of
the procession was lined by vast crowds of working people； whose
imaginations； in some instinctive manner； had been touched。 Many
who had hardly seen him declared that in Cardinal Manning they
had lost their best friend。 Was it the magnetic vigour of the
dead man's spirit that moved them？ Or was it his valiant
disregard of common custom and those conventional reserves and
poor punctilios which are wont to hem about the great？ Or was it
something untameable in his glances and in his gestures？ Or was
it； perhaps； the mysterious glamour lingering about him； of the
antique organisation of Rome？ For whatever cause； the mind of the
people had been impressed； and yet； after all； the impression was
more acute than lasting。 The Cardinal's memory is a dim thing
today。
And he who descends into the crypt of that Cathedral which
Manning never lived to see； will observe； in the quiet niche with
the sepulchral monument； that the dust lies thick on the strange；
the incongruous； the almost impossible object which； with its
elaborations of dependent tassels； hangs down from the dim vault
like some forlorn and forgotten trophy the Hat。
BIBLIOGRAPHY
E。 S。 Purcell。 Life of Cardinal Manning。
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