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objects。 Her work upon hospital reform assumed enormous
proportions； she was able to improve the conditions in
infirmaries and workhouses； and one of her most remarkable papers
forestalls the recommendations of the Poor Law Commission of
1909。 Her training； school for nurses； with all that it involved
in initiative； control； responsibillity； and combat； would have
been enough in itself to have absorbed the whole efforts of at
least two lives of ordinary vigour。 And at the same time her work
in connection with India； which had begun with the Sanitary
Commission on the Indian Army； spread and ramified in a multitude
of directions。 Her tentacles reached the India Office and
succeeded in establishing a hold even upon those slippery high
places。 For many years it was de rigueur for the newly appointed
Viceroy； before he left England； to pay a visit to Miss
Nightingale。
After much hesitation； she had settled down in a small house in
South Street； where she remained for the rest of her life。 That
life was a very long one； the dying woman reached her ninety…
first year。 Her ill health gradually diminished； the crises of
extreme danger became less frequent； and at last altogether
ceased； she remained an invalid； but an invalid of a curious
characteran invalid who was too weak to walk downstairs and who
worked far harder than most Cabinet Ministers。 Her illness；
whatever it may have been； was certainly not inconvenient。 It
involved seclusion； and an extraordinary； an unparalleled
seclusion was； it might almost have been said； the mainspring of
Miss Nightingale's life。 Lying on her sofa in the little upper
room in South Street； she combined the intense vitality of a
dominating woman of the world with the mysterious and romantic
quality of a myth。 She was a legend in her lifetime； and she knew
it。 She tasted the joys of power； like those Eastern Emperors
whose autocratic rule was based upon invisibility； with the
mingled satisfactions of obscurity and fame。
And she found the machinery of illness hardly less effective as a
barrier against the eyes of men than the ceremonial of a palace。
Great statesmen and renowned generals were obliged to beg for
audiences； admiring princesses from foreign countries found that
they must see her at her own time； or not at all； and the
ordinary mortal had no hope of ever getting beyond the downstairs
sitting…room and Dr。 Sutherland。 For that indefatigable disciple
did； indeed； never desert her。 He might be impatient； he might be
restless； but he remained。 His 'incurable looseness of thought'；
for so she termed it； continued at her service to the end。 Once；
it is true； he had actually ventured to take a holiday； but he
was recalled； and he did not repeat the experiment。 He was wanted
downstairs。 There he sat； transacting business answering
correspondence； interviewing callers； and exchanging innumerable
notes with the unseen power above。 Sometimes word came down that
Miss Nightingale was just well enough to see one of her visitors。
The fortunate man was led up； was ushered； trembling； into the
shaded chamber； and； of course； could never afterwards forget the
interview。 Very rarely； indeed； once or twice a year； perhaps；
but nobody could be quite certain； in deadly secrecy； Miss
Nightingale went out for a drive in the Park。 Unrecognised； the
living legend flitted for a moment before the common gaze。 And
the precaution was necessary； for there were times when； at some
public function； the rumour of her presence was spread abroad；
and ladies； mistaken by the crowd for Miss Nightingale； were
followed； pressed upon； vehemently supplicated 'Let me touch your
shawl'； 'Let me stroke your arm'； such was the strange adoration
in the hearts of the people。 That vast reserve of force lay there
behind her； she could use it； if she could。 But she preferred
never to use it。 On occasions； she might hint or threaten； she
might balance the sword of Damocles over the head of the Bison；
she might； by a word； by a glance； remind some refractory
Minister； some unpersuadable Viceroy； sitting in audience with
her in the little upper room； that she was something more than a
mere sick woman； that she had only； so to speak； to go to the
window and wave her handkerchief； for 。。。 dreadful things to
follow。 But that was enough； they understood； the myth was there…
…obvious； portentous； impalpable； and so it remained to the last。
With statesmen and governors at her beck and call； with her hands
on a hundred strings； with mighty provinces at her feet； with
foreign governments agog for her counsel； building hospitals；
training nurses she still felt that she had not enough to do。
She sighed for more worlds to conquermore； and yet more。
She looked about herwhat was left？ Of course！ Philosophy！ After
the world of action； the world of thought。 Having set right the
health of the British Army； she would now do the same good
service for the religious convictions of mankind。 She had long
noticedwith regretthe growing tendency towards free…thinking
among artisans。 With regret； but not altogether with surprise；
the current teaching of Christianity was sadly to seek； nay；
Christianity itself was not without its defects。 She would
rectify these errors。 She would correct the mistakes of the
Churches； she would point out just where Christianity was wrong；
and she would explain to the artisans what the facts of the case
really were。 Before her departure for the Crimea； she had begun
this work； and now； in the intervals of her other labours； she
completed it。 Her 'Suggestions for Thought to the Searchers After
Truth Among the Artisans of England' （1860）； unravels； in the
course of three portly volumes； the difficulties hitherto；
curiously enough； unsolvedconnected with such matters as Belief
in God； the Plan of Creation； the Origin of Evil； the Future
Life； Necessity and Free Will； Law； and the Nature of Morality。
The Origin of Evil； in particular； held no perplexities for Miss
Nightingale。 'We cannot conceive；' she remarks； 'that Omnipotent
Righteousness would find satisfaction in solitary existence。'
This being； so； the only question remaining to be asked is： 'What
beings should we then conceive that God would create？' Now； He
cannot create perfect beings； 'since； essentially； perfection is
one'； if He did so； He would only be adding to Himself。 Thus the
conclusion is obvious： He must create imperfect ones。 Omnipotent
Righteousness； faced by the intolerable impasse of a solitary
existence； finds itself bound by the very nature of the cause； to
create the hospitals at Scutari。 Whether this argument would have
satisfied the artisans was never discovered； for only a very few
copies of the book were printed for private circulation。 One copy
was sent to Mr。 Mill； who acknowledged it in an extremely polite
letter。 He felt himself obliged； however； to confess that he had
not been altogether convinced by Miss Nightingale's proof of the
existence of God。 Miss Nightingale was surprised and mortified；
she had thought better of Mr。 Mill； for surely her proof of the
existence of God could hardly be improved upon。 'A law；' she had
pointed out； 'implies a lawgiver。' Now the Universe is full of
lawsthe law of gravitation； the law of the excluded middle； and
many others； hence it follows that the Universe has a law…giver
and what would Mr。 Mill be satisfied with； if he was not
satisfied with that？
Perhaps Mr。 Mill might have asked why the argument had not been
pushed to its logical conclusion。 Clearly； if we are to trust the
analogy of human institutions； we must remember that laws are； as
a matter of fact； not dispensed by lawgivers； but passed by Act
of Parliament。 Miss Nightingale； however； with all her experience
of public life； never stopped to consider the question whether
God might not be a Limited Monarchy。Yet her conception of God was
certainly not orthodox。 She felt towards Him as she might have
felt towards a glorified sanitary engineer； and in some of her
speculations she seems hardly to distinguish between the Deity
and the Drains。 As one turns over these singular pages； one has
the impression that Miss Nightingale has got the Almighty too
into her clutches； and that； if He is not careful； she will kill
Him with overwork。
Then； suddenly； in the very midst of the ramifying generalities
of her metaphysical disquisitions； there is an unexpected turn
and the reader is plunged all at once into something particular；
something personal； something impregnated with intense
experience a virulent invective upon the position of women in
the upper ranks of society。 Forgetful alike of her high argument
and of the artisans； the bitter creature rails through a hundred
pages of close print at the falsities of family life； the
ineptitudes of marriage； the emptinesses of convention； in the
spirit of an Ibsen or a Samuel Butler。 Her fierc