In describing to the Secretary of State certain sanitary reforms which she carried out in the hospitals of Scutari, she wrote: “I must pay my tribute to the instinctive delicacy, the ready attention of orderlies and patients during all that dreadful period. For my sake they performed offices of this kind (which they neither would for the sake of discipline, nor for that of importance to their own health, which they did not know), and never was there one word nor one look which a gentleman would not have used; and while paying this humble tribute to humble courtesy, the tears come into my eyes as I think how amidst scenes of loathsome disease and death, there rose above it all the innate dignity, gentleness, and chivalry of the men, shining in the midst of what must be considered the lowest sinks of human misery, and preventing, instinctively, the use of one expression which could distress a gentlewoman.” It is easy to think of Miss Nightingale as a great organizer and executive--it is less easy to imagine how she found time to give the personal attention to the individual patient that she did give. “She was wonderful,” said one, “at cheering up any one who was a bit low.” In the midst of her manifold responsibilities she found time to write hundreds of letters, to relatives at home, for those unable to write, and to instill in the nurses associated with her the same spirit. There was nothing mechanical in the nursing of that period. Every patient was a human being with relatives and anxious friends rightfully interested, who must be kept informed as to his condition, as far as possible. TEACHING A COUNTRY BY DEMONSTRATION. Nowadays when women of many classes are contending that legislation is necessary before real reforms can be brought about, it is interesting to note that Florence Nightingale’s reforms were initiated mainly by demonstration of the way a thing could be accomplished. Her biographer, in writing of this, says that “it was a common belief of the time that it was in the nature of the British soldier to be drunken. The same idea was entertained of the British nurse. Miss Nightingale utterly refused to believe it.” Writing to a friend, while in Scutari, she remarks: “I have never been able to join in the popular cry about the recklessness, sensuality and helplessness of the soldiers. On the contrary, I should say that I have never seen so teachable and helpful a class as the army generally. Give them opportunity, promptly and securely, to send money home and they will use it. Give them schools and lectures and they will come to them. Give them books and games and amusements and they will leave off drinking. Give them suffering and they will bear it. Give them work to do and they will do it.”