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letter。 He felt himself obliged； however； to confess that he had
not been altogether convinced by Miss Nightingale's proof of the
existence of God。 Miss Nightingale was surprised and mortified；
she had thought better of Mr。 Mill； for surely her proof of the
existence of God could hardly be improved upon。 'A law；' she had
pointed out； 'implies a lawgiver。' Now the Universe is full of
lawsthe law of gravitation； the law of the excluded middle； and
many others； hence it follows that the Universe has a law…giver
and what would Mr。 Mill be satisfied with； if he was not
satisfied with that？
Perhaps Mr。 Mill might have asked why the argument had not been
pushed to its logical conclusion。 Clearly； if we are to trust the
analogy of human institutions； we must remember that laws are； as
a matter of fact； not dispensed by lawgivers； but passed by Act
of Parliament。 Miss Nightingale； however； with all her experience
of public life； never stopped to consider the question whether
God might not be a Limited Monarchy。Yet her conception of God was
certainly not orthodox。 She felt towards Him as she might have
felt towards a glorified sanitary engineer； and in some of her
speculations she seems hardly to distinguish between the Deity
and the Drains。 As one turns over these singular pages； one has
the impression that Miss Nightingale has got the Almighty too
into her clutches； and that； if He is not careful； she will kill
Him with overwork。
Then； suddenly； in the very midst of the ramifying generalities
of her metaphysical disquisitions； there is an unexpected turn
and the reader is plunged all at once into something particular；
something personal； something impregnated with intense
experience a virulent invective upon the position of women in
the upper ranks of society。 Forgetful alike of her high argument
and of the artisans； the bitter creature rails through a hundred
pages of close print at the falsities of family life； the
ineptitudes of marriage； the emptinesses of convention； in the
spirit of an Ibsen or a Samuel Butler。 Her fierce pen； shaking
with intimate anger； depicts in biting sentences the fearful fate
of an unmarried girl in a wealthy household。 It is a cri du
coeur； and then； as suddenly； she returns once more to instruct
the artisans upon the nature ofOmnipotent Righteousness。
Her mind was； indeed； better qualified to dissect the concrete
and distasteful fruits of actual life than to construct a
coherent system of abstract philosophy。 In spite of her respect
for Law； she was never at home with a generalisation。 Thus；
though the great achievement of her life lay in the immense
impetus which she gave to the scientific treatment of sickness； a
true comprehension of the scientific method itself was alien to
her spirit。 Like most great men of actionperhaps like allshe
was simply an empiricist。 She believed in what she saw； and she
acted accordingly； beyond that she would not go。 She had found in
Scutari that fresh air and light played an effective part in the
prevention of the maladies with which she had to deal； and that
was enough for her； she would not inquire further； what were the
general principles underlying that factor even whether there
were anyshe refused to consider。 Years after the discoveries of
Pasteur and Lister； she laughed at what she called the 'germ…
fetish'。 There was no such thing as 'infection'； she had never
seen it； therefore it did not exist。 But she had seen the good
effects of fresh air； therefore； there could be no doubt about
them； and therefore； it was essential that the bedrooms of
patients should be well ventilated。 Such was her doctrine； and in
those days of hermetically scaled windows it was a very valuable
one。 But it was a purely empirical doctrine； and thus it led to
some unfortunate results。 When； for instance； her influence in
India was at its height； she issued orders that all hospital
windows should be invariably kept open。 The authorities； who knew
what an open window in the hot weather meant； protested； but in
vain； Miss Nightingale was incredulous。 She knew nothing of the
hot weather； but she did know the value of fresh airfrom
personal experience； the authorities were talking nonsense； and
the windows must be kept open all the year round。 There was a
great outcry from all the doctors in India； but she was firm； and
for a moment it seemed possible that her terrible commands would
have to be put into execution。 Lord Lawrence； however； was
Viceroy； and he was able to intimate to Miss Nightingale； with
sufficient authority； that himself had decided upon the question；
and that his decision must stand； even against her own。 Upon that
she gave way； but reluctantly and quite unconvinced； she was only
puzzled by the unexpected weakness of Lord Lawrence。 No doubt； if
she had lived today； and if her experience had lain； not among
cholera cases at Scutari； but among yellow…fever cases in Panama；
she would have declared fresh air a fetish； and would have
maintained to her dying day that the only really effective way of
dealing with disease was by the destruction of mosquitoes。
Yet her mind； so positive； so realistic； so ultra…practical； had
its singular revulsions； its mysterious moods of mysticism and of
doubt。 At times； lying sleepless in the early hours； she fell
into long； strange； agonised meditations； and then； seizing a
pencil； she would commit to paper the confessions of her soul。
The morbid longings of her pre…Crimean days came over her once
more； she filled page after page with self…examination； self…
criticism； self…surrender。 'Oh Father；' she wrote； 'I submit； I
resign myself； I accept with all my heart； thisstretching out of
Thy hand to save me。 。。。 0h how vain it is； the vanity of
vanities； to live in men's thoughts instead of God's！'
She was lonely； she was miserable。 'Thou knowest that through all
these horrible twenty years； I have been supported by the belief
that I was working with Thee who would bring everyone； even our
poor nurses； to perfection'and yet； after all； what was the
result？ Had not even she been an unprofitable servant？ One night；
waking suddenly； she saw； in the dim light of the night…lamp；
tenebrous shapes upon the wall。 The past rushed back upon her。
'Am I she who once stood on that Crimean height？' she wildly
asked 〃The Lady with a lamp shall stand 。 。 。The lamp shows me
only my utter shipwreck。'
She sought consolation in the writings of the Mystics and in a
correspondence with Mr。 Jowett。 For many years the Master of
Balliol acted as her spiritual adviser。 He discussed with her in
a series of enormous letters the problems of religion and
philosophy； he criticised her writings on those subjects with the
tactful sympathy of a cleric who was also a man of the world； and
he even ventured to attempt at times to instil into her
rebellious nature some of his own peculiar suavity。 'I sometimes
think；' he told her； 'that you