One of the outstanding qualities of this great woman was her individuality, a quality which some one has aptly said is close kin to honesty. She did her own thinking, and the results of that independent thinking were evident all through her career. In commenting on this quality of individuality, a recent writer, Byron H. Stauffer, has said: “It burst out in a letter written when she was eight, which she closes with: ‘My love to all except Miss W--.’ It developed in her despising, early in life, the silly conventionalities of the high society of the day. It sparkled in explaining why she tittered during a ritualistic service: ‘The rector was praying “That it may please Thee to have mercy on all men,” and the ridiculousness of that prayer broke upon me. Think of it! If I asked you to have mercy on your own boy, you’d knock me down.’ Another instance of her nonconformity to the religious conventions lies in her declaration: ‘I never prayed for George IV; I always thought that people were very, very good who could pray for him. It was a wonder to me how he could possibly be any worse if nobody prayed for him. I prayed a little for William IV. For the young Victoria I prayed with rapture.’” THE PRICE OF SKILL. One of the tendencies of this age in nurses is to expect and apply for positions of responsibility for which they have not taken any special or definite pains to fit themselves. Their estimate of their own ability is often much greater than conditions justify; they often want the best positions without paying the price of special skill. The determination of Florence Nightingale to secure for herself the best instruction the world afforded at that time, and her conviction that if she was ever to accomplish anything worth while she must first learn all that was possible under the circumstances for her to learn about the business of caring for the sick, is a fine example for those who really desire to do worth while things in this world. It has been well said that ability depends greatly on preparation, and that opportunity is largely dependent on ability. It was by no accident that Florence Nightingale became “the angel of the Crimea.” Nothing that she could do to fit herself for such a task had been omitted, though she could not know how great were the opportunities that were to be afforded her to use the knowledge and experience she was so determined to secure. She fully realized that to do good required more than good desires or intentions. To do good in the way that she wished required some skill. To be the best possible nurse, to fit herself in the best way, however long it might take, or how hard the way might be, meant much greater difficulties then than it could possibly mean now. When in later years she expressed herself as follows, she was simply expressing the convictions which had been with her all through life: