[76] From the _Life and Death of Athena, an Owlet from the Parthenon_, a manuscript book charmingly written and illustrated by Lady Verney. She wrote it in 1855, and sent it to Scutari "to try and make Flo and Mrs. Bracebridge laugh when F. was recovering from her fever."
A small black pocket-book is preserved in which were found, at Miss Nightingale's death, a few of the many letters received just before she left England for the East. Perhaps they were the very last letters received; perhaps they were there for other reasons. One spoke of a mother's love:--
Monday morning. God speed you on your errand of mercy, my own dearest child. I know He will, for He has given you such loving friends, and they will be always at your side to help in all your difficulties. They came just when I felt that you must fail for want of strength, and more mercies will come in your hour of need. They are so wise and good, they will be to you what no one else could. They will write to us, and save you in that and in all ways. They are to us an earnest of blessings to come. I do not ask you to spare yourself for your own sake, but for the sake of the cause.--Ever Thine.
Another letter reminded her of the love of God:--
God will keep you. And my prayer for you will be that your one object of Worship, Pattern of Imitation, and Source of consolation and strength may be the Sacred Heart of our Divine Lord. Always yours for our Lord's sake, HENRY E. MANNING.
And a third among them was from the friend whose life she had declined to share, but whose sympathy was still precious to her:--
"MY DEAR FRIEND," he wrote (Oct. 18), "I hear you are going to the East. I am happy it is so, for the good you will do there, and the hope that you may find some satisfaction in it yourself. I cannot forget how you went to the East once before, and here am I writing quietly to you about what you are going to do now. You can undertake _that_, when you could not undertake me. God bless you, dear Friend, wherever you go."
On the ocean no post brings us letters which we are compelled to answer. No newspaper tempts us into reading the last night's debate in Parliament. The absence of distracting incidents, the sameness of the scene, and the uniformity of life on board ship, leave us leisure for reflection; we are thrown in upon our own thoughts, and can make up our accounts with our consciences.--FROUDE.