What the art of nursing had fallen to in England may be guessed from the fact lately mentioned to me by a great friend of Miss Nightingale’s, that when Florence Nightingale told her family she would like to devote her life to nursing, they said with a smile, “Are you sure you would not like to be a kitchen-maid?” Yet the Nightingales were, on other questions, such as that of the education of girls, far in advance of their time. Possibly nothing short of those letters to the _Times_, touching, as they did, the very quick of the national pride, could have broken down the “Chinese wall” of that particular prejudice. Something may be said at this point as to what had been at the root of the dreadful condition of things in the hospitals before Miss Nightingale’s arrival. I have had some instructive talk with Surgeon-General Evatt, who knows the medical administration of our army through and through, and whose friendship with Miss Nightingale arose in a very interesting way, but will be mentioned later on in its due place. General Evatt has pointed out to me in conversation that what is still a weakness of our great London hospitals, though lessened there by the fierce light of public opinion that is ever beating upon them, was the very source of the evil at Scutari. Such hospitals as the London, doing such magnificent work that it deserves a thousand times the support it receives, are, explained General Evatt, without any central authority. The doctors pay their daily visits and their code is a high one, but they are as varied in ability and in character as any other group of doctors, and are responsible to no one but God and their own conscience. The nursing staff have _their_ duties and _their_ code, but are under separate management. The committee secures the funds and manages the finance, but it is again quite distinct in its powers, and does not control either doctors or nurses.