It is very remarkable to see the universal acknowledgments of the Doctor’s genius in England, one of the London newspapers going so far as to describe him in its headlines as “America’s Apostle.”  Nothing I could write about him could be more in eulogy, more in sympathy in comprehension of his brilliant sacred message to the world.  England proclaimed him as he was, with deep sincerity and reverence.

His favourite sermon, and it was mine also, was upon the theme of unrequited services, the text being from I Samuel xxx. 24, “But as his part is that goeth down to the battle, so shall his part be that tarrieth by the stuff.”  It was in this sermon that Dr. Talmage made reference to Florence Nightingale, in the following words:—­

“Women, your reward in the eternal world will be as great as that of Florence Nightingale, the Lady of the Lamp.”  While in London he preached this sermon, and the following day to our surprise the Doctor received the following note at his hotel:—­

    “June 3, 1900.
    “10, South Street,
    “Park Lane.

    “Dear Sir—­
    “I could gladly see you to-morrow (Monday) at 5.—­Yours faithfully,
    “FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 
    “T.  DeWitt Talmage, of America.”

I have carefully kept the letter in my autograph album.

Dr. Talmage and I called at the appointed time.  It was a beautiful summer day and we found the celebrated woman lying on a couch in a room at the top of the house, the windows of which looked out on Hyde Park.  She was dressed all in white.  Her face was exquisitely spiritual, calm, sweet with the youth of a soul that knew no age.  She had never known that she had been called ‘The Lady of the Lamp’ by the soldiers of the Crimea till she read of it in the Doctor’s sermon.  She was curious to be told all about it.  In conversation with the Doctor she made many inquiries about America and the Spanish war, making notes on a pad of what he said.  The Doctor told her that she looked like a woman who had never known the ordinary conflicts of life, as though she had always been supremely happy and calm in her soul.  I remember she replied that she had never known a day’s real happiness till she began her work as a nurse on the battlefield.

“I was not always happy,” she said; “I had my idle hours when I was a girl.”  I may not remember her exact words, but this is the sense of them.  She was past 82 years of age at the time.

Enjoying the intervals of sight-seeing, such as the Tower, the Museum, Westminster Abbey, and the usual wonders of historical London, we remained in town several weeks.  I remember a visit which Mr. Choate, the American Ambassador, made us with a view to extending any courtesy he could for the Doctor while we were in England.  I told him that I was more anxious to see the British Parliament in session than anything else.

“I should think, as Dr. Talmage has with him a letter from the President of the United States, this request could be arranged,” I said.