And so it comes to pass that among the visible tokens which the war has left behind, is a gigantic white marble cross erected by Florence Nightingale upon the sombre heights of Balaclava, where it still opens wide its arms for every gleam of golden sunlight, every reflected shimmer, through the dark night, of silvery moon and star, to hearten the sailors voyaging northward and mark a prayer for the brave men and women who toiled and suffered there. It is inscribed with the words in Italian, “Lord, have mercy upon us.” But while she herself asked only mercy for herself and others, that human shortcomings might be forgiven, her compatriots were uniting to do her honour. On December 20, 1855, the _Morning Post_ printed the following announcement:— “The country will experience much satisfaction, though no surprise, on learning, as we believe we are correct in stating, that Her Majesty the Queen has, in a manner as honourable to herself as it must be gratifying to her people, been pleased to mark her warm appreciation of the unparalleled self-devotion of the good Miss Nightingale. The Queen has transmitted to that lady a jewelled ornament of great beauty, which may be worn as a decoration, and has accompanied it with an autograph letter—such a letter as Queen Victoria has ere now proved she can write—a letter not merely of graceful acknowledgment, but full of that deep feeling which speaks from heart to heart, and at once ennobles the sovereign and the subject.” Of the symbolic meaning of this jewel the following exposition appeared in the issue of January 15, 1856, of the same paper:—