In response to a request in 1866 from Cavaliere Sebastiano Fenzi, one of the committee for organising a system of volunteer assistance to the hospital department of the Italian army, that she would come to Florence to give advice and personal superintendence, Miss Nightingale replied giving a lengthy series of recommendations. We quote the conclusion of the letter for its personal interest:-- “Thus far,” writes Miss Nightingale, “I have given dry advice as drily as I could. But you must permit me to say that if there is anything I could do for you at any time, and you would command me, I should esteem it the greatest honour and pleasure. I am a hopeless invalid, entirely a prisoner to my room, and overwhelmed with business. Otherwise how gladly would I answer to your call and come and do my little best for you in the dear city where I was born. If the giving my miserable life could hasten your success but by half an hour, how gladly would I give it. But you will not want for success or for martyrs, or for volunteers or for soldiers. “Our old General, Lord Clyde (he is dead now), was standing at the port of Balaclava when, eleven years ago, the Italian Bersagliere were landing; and he turned round and said to his companion (a man high in office), ‘I wish to hide my face--I blush for ourselves when I see the perfect way in which those glorious troops are brought up to their work.’ And what have not the Italians done since, in those eleven years?--the work of almost eleven centuries! “I, too, remember the Italian (Sardinian) hospitals on the heights of Balaclava, and their admirable government; and since then what has not the progress been? I wish you God-speed with my whole heart, and by that you will believe me, sir, your ever faithful servant, “FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE.” “_Cavaliere Sebastiano Fenzi, Florence._” Miss Nightingale would certainly have been cheered in her sick-room if she could have seen the enthusiasm and emotion excited in her native city when her letter was read to the people.