“One woman has died,” writes Miss Nightingale, “a woman, attractive and rich, and young and witty; yet a veiled and silent woman, distinguished by no other genius but the divine genius--working hard to train herself in order to train others to walk in the footsteps of Him who went about doing good.... She died, as she had lived, at her post in one of the largest workhouse infirmaries in this kingdom--the first in which trained nursing has been introduced.... When her whole life and image rise before me, so far from thinking the story of Una and her lion a myth, I say here is Una in real flesh and blood--Una and her paupers far more untamable than lions. In less than three years she had reduced one of the most disorderly hospital populations in the world to something like Christian discipline, and had converted a vestry to the conviction of the economy as well as humanity of nursing pauper sick by trained nurses.” We must refrain from quoting more of this singularly fine tribute of the Chief to one of her ablest generals in the army of nursing reform, with the exception of the beautiful closing words: “Let us add living flowers to her grave, ‘lilies with full hands,’ not fleeting primroses, not dying flowers. Let us bring the work of our hands and our heads and our hearts to finish her work which God has so blessed. Let us not merely rest in peace, but let hers be the life which stirs up to fight the good fight against vice and sin and misery and wretchedness, as she did--the call to arms which she was ever obeying:-- The Son of God goes forth to war, Who follows in His train? Oh, daughters of God, are there so few to answer?” [Illustration: MRS. DACRE CRAVEN (NÉE FLORENCE LEES). (_From a drawing by the Crown Princess of Germany (the late Empress Frederick), when Miss Lees had charge of the Crown Princess’s Lazaretto at Homburg during the Franco-German War._) [_To face p. 304._ ] One cannot leave the subject without a reference to the influence which Miss Nightingale’s own early example had had on the gifted woman whose memory she extolled. On the eve of going into training at St. Thomas’s Miss Agnes Jones wrote: “It is well that I shall, at my first outset in hospital work, bear the name of ‘Nightingale Probationer,’ for that honoured name is associated with my first thought of hospital life. In the winter of ’54, when I had those first earnest longings for work, and had for months so little to satisfy them, how I wished I were competent to join the Nightingale band when they started for the Crimea! I listened to the animadversions of many, but I almost worshipped her who braved all, and I felt she must succeed.”