eminent victorians-第21章

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A。　W。　Hutton。　Cardinal　Manning。

J。　E。　C。　Bodley。　Cardinal　Manning　and　Other　Essays。

F。　W。　Cornish。　The　English　Church　in　the　Nineteenth　Century。

Dean　Church。　The　Oxford　Movement。

Sir　J。　T。　Coleridge。　Memoir　of　the　Rev。　John　Keble。

Hurrell　Froude。　Remains。

Cardinal　Newman。　Letters　and　Correspondence　in　the　English

Church。

Apologia　pro　Vita　Sua。

Wilfrid　Ward。　Life　of　　Cardinal　Newman。　W。　G。　Ward　and　the　Oxford

Movement。　W。　G。　Ward　and　the　Catholic　Revival。　Life　of　Cardinal

Wiseman。

H。　P。　Liddon。　Life　of　E。　B。　Pusey。

Tracts　for　the　Times；　by　Members　of　the　University　of　Oxford。

Lord　Morley。　Life　of　Gladstone。

Lives　of　the　Saints；　edited　by　J。　H。　Newman。

Herbert　Paul。　Life　of　J。A。　Froude。

Mark　Pattison。　Autobiography。

T。　Mozley。　Letters　from　Rome　on　the　Occasion　of　the　Oecumenical

Council。

Lord　Acton。　Letters。

H。　L。　Smith　and　V。　Nash。　The　Story　of　the　Dockers'　Strike。







Florence　Nightingale



EVERY　one　knows　the　popular　conception　of　Florence　Nightingale。

The　saintly；　self…sacrificing　woman；　the　delicate　maiden　of　high

degree　who　threw　aside　the　pleasures　of　a　life　of　ease　to　succour

the　afflicted；　the　Lady　with　the　Lamp；　gliding　through　the

horrors　of　the　hospital　at　Scutari；　and　consecrating　with　the

radiance　of　her　goodness　the　dying　soldier's　couch。　　The　vision

is　familiar　to　all　but　the　truth　was　different。　The　Miss

Nightingale　of　fact　was　not　as　facile　as　fancy　painted　her。　She

worked　in　another　fashion　and　towards　another　end；　she　moved

under　the　stress　of　an　impetus　which　finds　no　place　in　the

popular　imagination。　A　Demon　possessed　her。　Now　demons；　whatever

else　they　may　be；　are　full　of　interest。　And　so　it　happens　that　in

the　real　Miss　Nightingale　there　was　more　that　was　interesting

than　in　the　legendary　one；　there　was　also　less　that　was

agreeable。



Her　family　was　extremely　well…to…do；　and　connected　by　marriage

with　a　spreading　circle　of　other　well…to…do　families。　There　was　a

large　country　house　in　Derbyshire；　there　was　another　in　the　New

Forest；　there　were　Mayfair　rooms　for　the　London　season　and　all

its　finest　parties；　there　were　tours　on　the　Continent　with　even

more　than　the　usual　number　of　Italian　operas　and　of　glimpses　at

the　celebrities　of　Paris。　Brought　up　among　such　advantages；　it

was　only　natural　to　suppose　that　Florence　would　show　a　proper

appreciation　of　them　by　doing　her　duty　in　that　state　of　life　unto

which　it　had　pleased　God　to　call　herin　other　words；　by

marrying；　after　a　fitting　number　of　dances　and　dinner…parties；　an

eligible　gentleman；　and　living　happily　ever　afterwards。　Her

sister；　her　cousins；　all　the　young　ladies　of　her　acquaintance；

were　either　getting　ready　to　do　this　or　had　already　done　it。



It　was　inconceivable　that　Florence　should　dream　of　anything　else；

yet　dream　she　did。　Ah！　To　do　her　duty　in　that　state　of　life　unto

which　it　had　pleased　God　to　call　her！　Assuredly；　she　would　not　be

behindhand　in　doing　her　duty；　but　unto　what　state　of　life　HAD　it

pleased　God　to　call　her？　That　was　the　question。　God's　calls　are

many；　and　they　are　strange。　Unto　what　state　of　life　had　it

pleased　Him　to　call　Charlotte　Corday；　or　Elizabeth　of　Hungary？

What　was　that　secret　voice　in　her　ear；　if　it　was　not　a　call？　Why

had　she　felt；　from　her　earliest　years；　those　mysterious

promptings　towards。。。　she　hardly　knew　what；　but　certainly　towards

something　very　different　from　anything　around　her？　Why；　as　a

child　in　the　nursery；　when　her　sister　had　shown　a　healthy

pleasure　in　tearing　her　dolls　to　pieces；　had　SHE　shown　an　almost

morbid　one　in　sewing　them　up　again？　Why　was　she　driven　now　to

minister　to　the　poor　in　their　cottages；　to　watch　by　sick…beds；　to

put　her　dog's　wounded　paw　into　elaborate　splints　as　if　it　was　a

human　being？　Why　was　her　head　filled　with　queer　imaginations　of

the　country　house　at　Embley　turned；　by　some　enchantment；　into　a

hospital；　with　herself　as　matron　moving　about　among　the　beds？　Why

was　even　her　vision　of　heaven　itself　filled　with　suffering

patients　to　whom　she　was　being　useful？　So　she　dreamed　and

wondered；　and；　taking　out　her　diary；　she　poured　into　it　the

agitations　of　her　soul。　And　then　the　bell　rang；　and　it　was　time

to　go　and　dress　for　dinner。



As　the　years　passed；　a　restlessness　began　to　grow　upon　her。　She

was　unhappy；　and　at　last　she　knew　it。　Mrs。　Nightingale；　too；

began　to　notice　that　there　was　something　wrong。　It　was　very　odd

what　could　be　the　matter　with　dear　Flo？　Mr。　Nightingale　suggested

that　a　husband　might　be　advisable；　but　the　curious　thing　was　that

she　seemed　to　take　no　interest　in　husbands。　And　with　her

attractions；　and　her　accomplishments；　too！　There　was　nothing　in

the　world　to　prevent　her　making　a　really　brilliant　match。　But　no！

She　would　think　of　nothing　but　how　to　satisfy　that　singular

craving　of　hers　to　be　DOING　something。　As　if　there　was　not　plenty

to　do　in　any　case；　in　the　ordinary　way；　at　home。　There　was　the

china　to　look　after；　and　there　was　her　father　to　be　read　to　after

dinner。　Mrs。　Nightingale　could　not　understand　it；　and　then　one

day　her　perplexity　was　changed　to　consternation　and　alarm。

Florence　announced　an　extreme　desire　to　go　to　Salisbury　Hospital

for　several　months　as　a　nurse；　and　she　confessed　to　some

visionary　plan　of　eventually　setting　up　in　a　house　of　her　own　in

a　neighbouring　village；　and　there　founding　'something　like　a

Protestant　Sisterhood；　without　vows；　for　women　of　educated

feelings'。　The　whole　scheme　was　summarily　brushed　aside　as

preposterous；　and　Mrs。　Nightingale；　after　the　first　shock　of

terror；　was　able　to　settle　down　again　more　or　less　comfortably　to

her　embroidery。　But　Florence；　who　was　now　twenty…five　and　felt

that　the　dream　of　her　life　had　been　shattered；　came　near　to

desperation。



And；　indeed；　the　difficulties　in　her　path　were　great。　For　not

only　was　it　an　almost　unimaginable　thing　in　those　days　for　a

woman　of　means　to　make　her　own　way　in　the　world　and　to　live　in

independence；　but　the　particular　profession　for　which　Florence

was　clearly　marked　out　both　by　her　instincts　and　her　capacities

was　at　that　time　a　peculiarly　disreputable　one。　A　'nurse'　meant

then　a　coarse　old　woman；　always　ignorant；　usually　dirty；　often

brutal；　a　Mrs。　Gamp；　in　bunched…up　sordid　garments；　tippling　at

the　brandy　bottle　or　indulging　in　worse　irregularities。　The

nurses　in　the　hospitals　were　especially　notorious　for　immoral

conduct；　sobriety　was　almost　unknown　among　them；　and　they　could

hardly　be　trusted　to　carry　out　the　simplest　medical　duties。



Certainly；　things　HAVE　changed　since　those　days；　and　that　they

have　changed　is　due；　far　more　than　to　any　other　human　being；　to

Miss　Nightingale　herself。　It　is　not　to　be　wondered　at　that　her

parents　should　have　shuddered　at　the　notion　of　their　daughter

devoting　her　life　to　such　an　occupation。　'It　was　as　if；'　she

herself　said　afterwards；　'I　had　wanted　to　be　a　kitchen…maid。'　Yet

the　want；　absurd　and　impracticable　as　it　was；　not　only　remained

fixed　immovably　in　her　heart；　but　grew　in　intensity　day　by　day。

Her　wretchedness　deepened　into　a　morbid　melancholy。　Everything

about　her　was　vile；　and　she　herself；　it　was　clear；　to　have

deserved　such　misery；　was　even　viler　than　her　surroundings。　Yes；

she　had　sinned'standing　before　God's　judgment　seat'。　'No　one；'

she　declared；　'has　so　grieved　the　Holy　Spirit'；　of　that　she　was

quite　certain。　It　was　in　vain　that　she　prayed　to　be　delivered

from　vanity　and　hypocrisy；　and　she　could　not　bear　to　smile　or　to

be　gay；　'because　she　hated　God　to　hear　her　laugh；　as　if　she　had

not　repented　of　her　sin'。



A　weaker　spirit　would　have　been　overwhelmed　by　the　load　of　such

distresses　would　have　yielded　or　snapped。　But　this

extraordinary　young　woman　held　firm；　and　fought　her　way　to

victory。　With　an　amazing　persistency；　during　the　eight　years　that

followed　her　rebuff　over　Salisbury　Hospital；　she　struggled　and

worked　and　planned。　While　superficially　she　was　carrying　on　the

life　of　a　brilliant　girl　in　high　society；　while　internally　she

was　a　prey　to　the　tortures　of　regret　and　of　remorse；　she　yet

possessed　the　energy　to　collect　the　knowledge　and　to　undergo　the

experience　which　alone　could　enable　her　to　do　what　she　had

determined　she　would　do　in　the　end。　In　secret　she　devoured　the

reports　of　medical　commissions；　the　pamphlets　of　sanitary

authorities；　the　histories　of　hospitals　and　homes。　She　spent　the

intervals　of　the　London　season　in　ragged　schools　and　workhouses。

When　she　went　abroad　with　her　family；　she　used　her　spare　time　so

well　that　there　was　hardly　a　great　hospital　in　Europe　with　which

she　was　not　acquainted；　hardly　a　great　city　whose　shims　she　had

not　passed　through。　She　managed　to　spend　some　days　in　a　convent

school　in　Rome；　and　some　weeks　as　a　'Soeur　de　Charite'　in　Paris。

Then；　while　her　mother　and　sister　were　taking　the　waters　at

Carlsbad；　she　succeeded　in　slipping　off　to　a　nursing　institution

at　Kaiserswerth；　where　she　remained　for　more　than　three　months。

This　was　the　critical　event　of　her　life。　The　experience　which　she

gained　as　a　nurse　at　Kaiserswerth　formed　the　foundation　of　all

her　future　action　and　finally　fixed　her　in　her　career。



But　one　other　trial　awaited　her。　The　allurements　of　the　world　she

had　brushed　aside　with　disdain　and　loathing；　she　had　resisted　the

subtler　temptation　which；　in　her　weariness；　had　sometimes　come

upon　her；　of　devoting　her　baffled　energies　to　art　or　literature；

the　last　ordeal　appeared　in　the　shape　of　a　desirable　young　man。

Hitherto；　her　lovers　had　been　nothing　to　her　but　an　added　burden

and　a　mockery；　but　now　for　a　moment　she　wavered。　A　new

feeling　swept　over　hera　feeling　which　she　had　never　known

before　which　she　was　never　to　know　again。　The　most　powerful　and

the　profoundest　of　all　the　instincts　of　humanity　laid　claim　upon

her。　But　it　rose　before　her；　that　instinct；　arrayedhow　could　it

be　otherwise？　in　the　inevitable　habiliments　of　a　Victorian

marriage；　and　she　had　the　strength　to　stamp　it　underfoot。　'I　have

an　intellectual　nature　which　requires　satisfaction；'　she　noted；

'and　that　would　find　it　in　him。　I　have　a　passionate　nature　which

requires　satisfaction；　and　that　would　find　it　in　him。　I　have　a

moral；　an　active　nature　which　requires　satisfaction；　and　that

would　not　find　it　in　his　life。　Sometimes　I　think　that　I　will

satisfy　my　passionate　nature　at　all　events。　。。。'



But　no；　she　knew　in　her　heart　that　it　could　not　be。　'To　be　nailed

to　a　continuation　and　exaggeration　of　my　present　life　。。。　to　put

it　out　of　my　power　ever　to　be　able　to　seize　the　chance　of　forming

for　myself　a　true　and　rich　life'that　would　be　a　suicide。　She

made　her　choice；　and　refused　what　was　at　least　a　certain

happiness　for　a　visionary　good　which　might　never　come　to　her　at

all。　And　so　she　returned　to　her　old　life　of　waiting　and

bitterness。　'The　thoughts　and　feelings　that　I　have　now；'　she

wrote；　'I　can　remember　since　I　was　six　years　old。　A　profession；　a

trade；　a　necessary　occ