Chapter I: Never Get Tired—eating, the Least of My Troubles

“Miss Barton, these workers say they are _starving_,” said “Sister Harriette”; “it’s four o’clock, and they have had nothing to eat since early morning.”

“Why, bless their dear hearts; I had forgotten all about them. Take them to the restaurant across the street, and get them something to eat.”

“But, Miss Barton, you need a rest and something to eat as much as we do.” “Oh, no, I never get tired, you know, and eating is the least of my troubles.” Miss Barton kept at her work in the warehouse, unpacking and repacking, preparatory to leaving.

In the dusk of the evening, her assistants returned and Miss Barton was still there, alone, and at work. Turning to the workers Sister Harriette said: “Did you ever see such a tireless worker? Miss Barton must have some source of strength we know nothing about.”

The relief workers had cared for, provisioned and resettled in their homes 30,000 negro refugees, victims of the cyclone and hurricane disaster on the Carolina Islands. The party arrived at Beaufort late that night; the “workers,” worn out; Clara Barton, as vigorous as when the relief-work-campaign opened ten months before.

XLVII

Clara Barton, “Our Lady of the Red Cross”—her real life is measured by
deeds, not days—rich in the joy of service.

MARY R. PARKMAN—Author of _Heroines of Service_.

The ladies of Johnstown, Pennsylvania, presented Clara Barton with a
gold pin having a large diamond in the center. From it hung two small
gold chains to which was attached a superb gold locket with a
beautiful sapphire on the face of it. THE AUTHOR.

Clara Barton learned how to care for her many pets which lived in the
farm yard and was especially fond of horses. Her turkeys, dogs, geese,
and cats were added to Clara’s stock of pets. She also learned to milk
the cows. ENGLISH AUTHOR.

I was a very poor boy, hired on a flat-boat at $8.00 a month—if you
call this aristocracy, I plead guilty to the charge.

A. LINCOLN.

I have neither clerk nor typewriter; I still _aristocratically_ eat by
myself and do my own work. CLARA BARTON.

ROYALTY UNDER A QUAKER BONNET

Clara Barton had at Glen Echo a beautiful pet Jersey cow. This she personally cared for, feeding and milking her morning and evening. While milking the cow she would wear usually a plain black gown, white and blue checked apron, a white shawl over her shoulders, and on her head a brown, old-fashioned Quaker bonnet. As pendants on her breast there would be the elegant Pansy pin, presented to her by the Grand Duchess of Baden, and the Iron Cross of Prussia, presented to her by the Emperor of Germany. These royal jewels she had promised the donors to wear as long as she lived, and the promise she faithfully kept, whether she was in the parlor entertaining guests or in the yard among the animals doing the “chores.”

Miss Barton: What beautiful medals you are wearing.

Diplomat: Oh, yes, Miss Barton, but mine are from my own country,
while yours are from the whole world.

XLVIII

Clara Barton, a Christian-like spirit.

Pueblo (Colo.) _Chieftain_.

Clara Barton—no other woman has come so near the Christ Spirit.
Worcester (Mass.) _Gazette_.

Revenge, at first though sweet,
Bitter ere long back on itself recoils. JOHN MILTON.

This was the most unkindest cut of all. JULIUS CAESAR.

Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile. SHAKESPEARE.

The wicked plotteth against the just. PSALMS.

The black destroyers, the red torturers
Shall vanish—they like smoke shall disappear.
MOTHER ARMENIA.

Women always find their bitterest foes among their own sex.

J. PETIT-SENN.

’Twill not, false traitor!
’Twill not restore the truth and honesty
That thou hast banished from thy tongue with lies.
JOHN MILTON.

The traitor to humanity is the traitor most accursed. LOWELL.

The utmost ingenuity of metaphysics cannot
Excuse the man who wantonly wounds another.
BENJAMIN CONSTANT.

A woman’s shape doth shield thee. SHAKESPEARE.

Aunt Clara has only Christian forgiveness for others. STEPHEN E.
BARTON (Executor of the Clara Barton estate, 1911).

Clara Barton had no time to hate; only time to serve, to live, to
give,—one of the greatest souls that ever came to earth.

ALICE HUBBARD.

STILL STAMPING ON ME—PERSONALLY UNHARMED

In a letter under date of November 20, 1905, Clara Barton said: “I thank you for the clipping concerning Miss ——’s lecture. I have received others not at all complimentary to me personally. I am learning some very bad things of myself.

“I wonder whether it ever occurs to her that taking a reputation and appropriating the work of another might be quite honest. I have, however, nothing to say. I have done with it all and so long as I am left _personally_ unharmed I expect nothing more. They have long ago done everything else, and I have lived through it thus far. If they think their work will progress faster, or show better, by still stamping on me I shall not complain. I never have.”

The fairest action of human life
Is scorning to revenge an injury.

XLIX

Clara Barton—Let all flags fly at half-mast, and all the world stand
reverently with uncovered head.

_Richmond_ (Va.) _Leader_.

The world stands with uncovered head.

Chicago (Ills.) _Inter-Ocean_.

A grateful world pays tribute to her. Boston (Mass.) _Pilot_.

Her soul goes marching on. Boston (Mass.) _Journal_.

The pomp that is attendant on funerals feeds rather the vanity of the
living than does honor to the dead. ROCHEFOUCAULD.

Let me not be made to appear proud and fond of vain show, when I am
dead. JOHN BURROUGHS.

When her mother died Clara Barton wore no evidence of mourning. THE
AUTHOR.

Clara Barton said that death was only one of the things of life, a
part of life. She is not dead; I cannot even say she is away.

ALICE HUBBARD—In _The Fra_.

Clara Barton still lives. FATHER TYLER.

Great sorrows speak not. C. MARAT.

The deeper the sorrow the less the tongue has it. TALMUD.

Suspect that sorrow which is anxious to show itself. RUZZIK.

Some grief shows much love
But much of grief shows still some want of wit.
ROMEO AND JULIET.

Excess of grief for the deceased is madness; for it is an injury to
the living and the dead knows it not. XENOPHON.

Christ never preached any funeral sermons.

REV. D. L. MOODY.

I cannot go to Heaven until my work is done. CLARA BARTON.

How often I have wondered whether or not the souls will know us in the
Great Beyond. CLARA BARTON.

The Red Cross is a peculiar institution, without nationality, race,
creed or sect, embracing the entire world in its humanizing bond of
brotherhood; without arbitrary laws or rules, and yet stronger than
armies and higher than thrones. CLARA BARTON.

The world is my country; to do good is my religion.

TOM PAINE.

I know no section. In the labors that have come to me the nations of
the world, and their strange tongues, have become my own. CLARA
BARTON.

Just to have seen the collection of flags from all over the world,
brought together through the mercy and loving kindness of one woman,
made us feel that a Peace Proclamation is not an improbable thing.
ALICE HUBBARD.

There flowed in upon Clara Barton blessings uttered in all tongues
known among men. Portland (Ore.) _Telegram_.

All nations shall call you blessed. MALACHAI.

AT THE MEMORIAL—“THE FLAGS OF ALL NATIONS”—A GOOD TIME

Charon, the ancient guide over the River Styx, was peculiarly equipped to serve departing souls. Following the souls’ escape from earth, mourning customs are as numerous as are tribes and nations, as varied as are nationalities. At funerals, lives have been sacrificed, human forms disfigured, mourners employed, bells rung, lighted candles used—to serve their respective purposes, as have food, jewels, implements and weapons at the “last resting place.”

Go, call for the mourners and raise the lament,
Let the tresses be torn and the garments be rent,—

Funerals and memorials sometimes are to honor the dead; sometimes to cater to the vanity of the living; sometimes seemingly to strengthen an organization, social, religious, political, but in every instance following custom’s ways. Were not the public funeral display the custom, it would be sacrilege—custom sanctifies barbarity. Averse to personal display Clara Barton was also averse to the use of any custom of public mourning.

At the memorial held in honor of America’s greatest humanitarian, soon after her passing, the stage and the boxes of the theatre were decorated with flags that had been given to Clara Barton by grateful nations. Some were of silk, rich and magnificent; some, battle-stained and bullet-scarred. Some she had carried on the battlefield along with the Red Cross flag, the emblem to the sick, wounded and dying, that an Angel of Mercy was winging her way to their presence. There were the flags of England, Germany, Austria, Belgium, Italy, Norway, France, Russia, Cuba, Prussia, Holland, Greece, Switzerland, Turkey—and the flag of the United States.

To me remains nor place nor time;
My country is in every clime.

Anticipating that there might be a memorial for her by the Philadelphia School of Nurses, Clara Barton thus advised the President: “Do not make it a serious occasion; let the people laugh if they want to, and tell stories and have a good time. There is no reason why it should be serious.”

When I am dead, no pageant train
Shall waste their sorrows at my bier.

L

Clara Barton—a biography of absorbing interest.

Duluth (Minn.) _Tribune_.

Clara Barton wrote several golden pages in the history of the
brotherhood of man. Houghton (Mich.) _Gazette_.

“Amici! diem perdidimus” (Friends! we have lost a day), said Titus
when at the end of a day he had nothing memorable for his diary. THE
AUTHOR.

Nothing is of greater value than a single day. GOETHE.

A great library contains the diary of the human race.

GEORGE DAWSON.

The diary is greatly relied on by the writers of history, but—

CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER.

Tolstoi keeps a diary in which he notes down what he has been
thinking. Translator for Tolstoi.

Diaries tell their little tales with a directness, a candor conscious
or unconscious, a closeness of outlook which gratifies our sense of
security. Reading them is like gazing through a small pane of clear
glass. _Varia_—By AGNES REPPLIER.

A man’s diary is a record in youth of his sentiments, in middle age of
his actions, in old age of his reflections.

JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

A well kept diary is one of the most interesting productions of human
industry—not the least benefit of a diary is that it produces a taste
for writing. REVEREND WILLIAM SUTTON, S. J.

We converse with the absent by letters, and with ourselves by
diaries—many of our greatest characters in public life have left such
monuments of their diurnal labors. ISAAC DISRAELI.

Her unpublished diaries and letters are my chief original sources of
information that the book should come forth with the force of an
autobiography. _The Life of Clara Barton_, by Epler.

Only two classes of people can keep diaries of unimportant
things—those who never have time to do anything else and those who
have stopped doing things. I have done neither. CLARA BARTON.

Clara Barton’s war diaries, and diaries of her travels, if published,
would be eagerly read by the people and be of great historic interest.
THE AUTHOR.

Clara Barton could say with Seneca: “I keep an account of my expenses;
I cannot affirm that I lose nothing, but I can tell you what I lose,
and why, and in what manner.” THE AUTHOR.

CLARA BARTON KEPT A DIARY

The diary is an important factor in literary culture, and likewise in history. Diaries in some form are probably co-existent with the history of man. Keeping diaries, however, was revived in the seventeenth century. The best known diaries are those by Samuel Pepys and John Evelyn, of England. In this country, among the many well known diarists are John Quincy Adams and Henry David Thoreau. From youth continuous through her long and eventful life, Clara Barton kept a diary. The subject matter therein consists of routine daily work, travels, public functions, personal opinions of people she met, and philosophizing, which would fill volumes with interesting reading.

In her diary also she discussed questions of the day, public men, the problem of life, spiritualism, religion, politics,—everything that passes through the human mind, besides keeping account of every cent expended and for what purpose. By reading her diaries, almost any friend could find Miss Barton’s opinion of himself. Before retiring for the night her custom, amounting almost to a religious one, was to write in her diary the day’s events.

Pleasing, when youth is long expired, to trace
The forms our pencil or our pen designed;
Such was our youthful air, and shape, and face,
Such the soft image of our youthful mind.

Illustrating this remarkable characteristic in her life are appended two excerpts of a domestic nature from her diary in 1907, she then being eighty-seven years of age.

“DOING MY WORK,” AT 87

Friday, October 18, 1907.

This is my first day (since my illness) of doing my work and having a guest, but it has gone superbly. The breakfast table was neatly elegant—all silver and glass except the plates and cups and saucers. We had soft boiled eggs, cooked on the table, corn flakes, and a delightful platter of cream toast, with grapes, apple sauce, Dutch cheese and thick cream, and two kinds of coffee. Mr. Brown went to town returning at 5 P. M., when we had supper (or dinner)—a nicely cooked steak and sausage, fine potatoes, rice pudding, bananas, cake and tea—fruit.

I arranged the milk and cream, put the house in order, took care of lamps and room, and drafted a long letter to the Grand Duchess (from the medium), and Empress.

Doctor got Uncle Silas to come at evening and I engaged one hundred bundles of fodder at .04 cents a bundle, to be bought and put in the stable next week.

Have talked with Mr. Brown concerning Lucy.

“A RATHER HARD DAY”

Saturday, Oct. 26, 1907, Glen Echo.

Another fine day. But an experience this morning was anything but that. As Mrs. Barker did not come I was “doing up” the breakfast dishes at the sink and had put a kettle of beans on the stove to parboil for baking, as Doctor had expressed a desire for them. A rather heavy coal fire was going for this purpose. Suddenly I was startled by a great rush at the stove. Supposing that my kettle of beans had boiled over, I turned to see a flame three feet high from a vehicle larger than my kettle, pouring a liquid out over the hot stove that blazed the moment it touched. The Doctor had wanted to use some tar about the roof, and brought in a two-gallon tin bucket partly full and set it on the stove to warm up, and left it without speaking or in any way calling my attention to it. It had gotten boiling hot, and my first notice of its presence was the burst of blaze. The bucket of boiling black tar running over all on fire, the flame streaming up some two feet high. I called the Doctor at the cellar steps, at the windows—no response. The blaze went higher and wider. The carpenters must be on the roof and to the top I rushed, to find no one there—down again. I saw I was the only person on the premises. The room was dark with smoke. I could see little but the blaze. Four feet to the left stood a five-gallon can of kerosene oil for the lamps. I could not remove it and, if I could, I must carry it directly past the flame—if a spark reached, we would be blown to atoms, house and all. The floor was bare, with one or two small _cotton_ mats. I dared not use even them. There was but one way; I must grapple the boiling, blazing mass, take it across the room and throw it from the window. I had no inflammable material on me, being dressed in entire black silk, waist and skirt. There was no time to lose. I tore away the curtain, raised the window to its fullest height, seized the bucket firmly with both hands and landed it on the ground. I knew the smoke must raise outside help as I did it. The Doctor had been to the post office. He rushed in to find me in the midst of darkness. I had closed the doors at first, still the smoke poured out of the chamber windows we kept closed. My right hand, which had taken the tip of the bucket, was nearly covered in a coat of tar, put on boiling hot, and to stay. I did not try to remove it but put it in hot water and went to work with it. I need not say that the rest of the day was needed, and given to the house, but we were only too thankful that we _had_ a house to clean up. The tar coating and hot water saved the hand, so that a few heavy blisters tell the story of their hardship. It is all over now. I write this the _next_ day; last night I could not have done it.

Doctor went to Mrs. Warneke’s; I remained home. Mrs. Hinton came but I made no mention of the morning adventure. She has commenced her new home. I gave her butter, fruit, jellies, to help her table. A _rather_ hard day.

LI

All the world pays homage to the nurse—poets, warriors, statesmen,
kings, and the numberless multitudes of human sufferers.... EUGENE
UNDERHILL, M.D., author of “_Nursing—The Heart of the Art_.”

Efficient nurses are the most difficult to obtain of all aid in Red
Cross work. CLARA BARTON.

I never claimed to be a nurse. There are hundreds of women who could
nurse as well as I, if not better, than I could.

CLARA BARTON.

Time is the great physician. DISRAELI.

Physicians mend or end us. LORD BYRON.

Send for a physician;—but the sick man answered, “It is no matter for,
if I die, I’ll die at leisure.” LORD BACON.

For the woman has a friend
Who will keep her to the end. IRONQUILL.

NURSING A FINE ART—OVER THE WASHTUB

Was Clara Barton a nurse? Yes, and Florence Nightingale said that nursing is a fine art; and to succeed requires greater devotion than that in the art of painting or sculpture, for nursing has to do with “the living body, the temple of God’s spirit.” It’s probably the finest of the fine arts. Clara Barton did not assume the rôle of an art-nurse; she said others could surpass her in this art.

Miss Barton in her passion for service claimed to be only a “working-woman.” Work did not undignify her; instead, she seemed to dignify work—she surely made nursing popular. Work was a part of the best religion she ever had. With her

Human hopes and human creeds
Have their seat in human needs.

The day preceding the delivery of her public address she spent washing the clothes of the family and the linen of the household. Such exercise, more useful than golf and serving like purpose, strengthened the muscles, increased the blood circulation, made the brain active.

Commenting on the “wash-tub custom” her old physician said as she became so very tired after a hard day’s washing at first he used to protest, then facetiously remarked,

But her spirits always rose
Like the bubbles in the clothes;

and therefore he concluded that Miss Barton knew better than he did what was good for her.

LII

Clara Barton—The millions she has blest.

KATE BROWNLEE SHERWOOD.

With the gleam of the scarlet she walks with the immortals now.

Haverhill (Mass.) _Gazette_.

One of the few immortal names. FITZ-GREENE HALLECK.

Oh! the love of woman, the love of woman! no coldness, no neglect, no
harshness, no cruelty can extinguish thee! Like the fabled lamp in the
sepulchre, thou sheddest thy pure light in the human heart, where
everything around thee is dead forever.

WILL CARLETON.

Will Carleton—author of “The New Church Organ,” “Betsy and I are Out,”
“Over the Hill to the Poor-house,” and many others. THE AUTHOR.

Thy voice sounds like a prophet’s word;
And in its hollow tones are heard
The thanks of millions yet to be.
FITZ-GREENE HALLECK.

IMMORTAL WORDS—A MILLION THANKS

The following correspondence occurred between two beloved Americans:

On the occasion of Memorial Day, May 30, 1895, at Arlington, Will Carleton delivered the poem. It was so fine that at its close I felt a great desire to reach him with some word of appreciation and, tearing a scrap from an envelope which I had, I wrote this upon it:

Thanks: Immortal thanks for immortal words.
Arlington, 1895. (_Signed_) CLARA BARTON.

Folding and addressing the scrap to Mr. Will Carleton, Miss Barton passed it to the next person, who graciously passed it to the next, and so on, through possibly a hundred hands, until finally it was lodged with Mr. Carleton. In due course of time, another little scrap with the following words came back to Miss Barton, through the same hands:

To Miss Clara Barton,
A million thanks to one,
Who hath a million plaudits won,
For deeds of love to many millions done.
(Signed) WILL CARLETON.

LIII

Wherever flowers cannot be reared, there man cannot live.

NAPOLEON.

A rose to the living is sweet. CLARA BARTON.

The roses are sweet, and blessed be they who bring them into one’s
life. CLARA BARTON.

A heaven-sent gift, and blessing, is the rose,
Its grace inspireth aspirations high. E. G. BROWNE.

The red rose has been blazoned with a boar’s head on the Barton crest
ever since the War of the Roses.

DR. WILLIAM E. BARTON.

All the world brings its roses to the bier of Clara Barton.

_Grand Rapids Herald._

My life is like the summer rose
That opens to the sky,
But ere the shades of evening close
Is scattered on the ground—to die.
RICHARD HENRY WILDE.

There’s the rosemary, that’s for remembrance;—and there is pansies,
that’s for thoughts. SHAKESPEARE.

THE PANSY PIN—FOR THOUGHTS

Once Friendship weaves its silken band
It cannot be by time or distance broken;
And severed friends are bound by Mem’ry’s hand
More closely by some little simple token.

The “Pansy Pin,” of which so much has been written, and which Miss Barton continually wore, was given to her by the Grand Duchess of Baden. The pin is about as large as the case of a lady’s watch and in the shape of a pansy. The five petals are splendid amethysts and a single large beautiful pearl rests in the center, like a dew drop. The gift was accompanied with the words: “This is a simple gift, but it is a pansy which means ‘for thoughts.’”

Jeweler—“Miss Barton, do you know the value of that pin?”

Miss Barton—“No, sir, it was a present to me.”

Jeweler—“Each of these jewels is almost priceless. They represent a king’s ransom.”

Miss Barton—“The pin is priceless to me. I always wear it ‘for thoughts’ of a very dear friend.”

LIV

AT A DINNER IN LONDON

Lord Stratford—Will the guests kindly write on a slip of paper the
name of the one, including the famous generals, who served in the
Crimean War they think will be the longest remembered?

Guests—Florence Nightingale (written on every slip).

THE AUTHOR.

Clara Barton is to America what Florence Nightingale is to us.

_London Times._

No general that led hosts to victory on the battlefield is nearly so
secure of lasting fame as is the name of Clara Barton.

Dayton (Ohio) _Journal_.

Miss Nightingale found herself misunderstood and lost her Governmental
position—suffering much from Governmental heartlessness and neglect.
England, in later Governmental acts, was more appreciative of her war
heroine.... PERCY H. EPLER.

English women are solid and sensible, learned and self-possessed, and
all the world respects them. CLARA BARTON.

Surely woman should bring the best she has, whatever that is, to the
work of God’s world. FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE.

A white marble cross, 20 feet high, overlooking Balaclava and seen
from ships crossing the Black Sea, is known as the “Nightingale
Cross,”—erected at the personal expense of Florence Nightingale in
memory of the soldiers and nurses who died in the War. THE AUTHOR.

© _American Red Cross_

FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE

Clara Barton is to America what Florence Nightingale is to us.
London _Times_.

I will not speak of reward when permitted to do our Country’s work—it
is what we live for.
FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE.

Florence Nightingale, covered with the praises and honors of the
world.
CLARA BARTON.

See pages 183; 197.
]

FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE MEMORIAL ON THE MALL, LONDON

(Left to right.) The monument erected at Waterloo Place, corner of
Pall Mall, London, England, to the memory of Florence Nightingale.
Funds, by public subscription. Unveiled, February 24, 1915.

“To the memory of 2162 officers, non-com. officers and privates of
Brigade of Guards who fell during the war with Russia in 1854–1856.
Erected by their comrades.”

(In front) Statue of Sidney Herbert, associated with the life work of
Florence Nightingale.
]

CLARA BARTON PAYS RESPECTS TO FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE

In the year 1854 occurred the Crimean War. At the Scutari and Barrack Hospitals, Florence Nightingale rendered service that gave her immortal fame. “Her services there,” said Clara Barton in 1882, “marked an era never before reached in the progress of the world. When Miss Nightingale, with her thirty-eight faithful attendants, sailed from the shores of England, it meant more for the advancement of the world, more for its future history, than all the fleets of armies and navies, cannon and commissary, munitions of war, and regiments of men, than had sailed before her in that vast campaign.

“This unarmed pilgrim band of women that day not only struck a blow at the barbarities of war, but they laid the axe deep at the root of war itself. When Florence Nightingale, covered with the praises and honors of the world, bending under the weight of England’s gratitude, again sought her green island home, it was to seek also a bed of painful invalidism, from which she has never risen and probably never will.”

’Tis good that thy name springs
From two of earth’s fairest things
A stately city and a sweet-voiced bird.

LV

How age is a matter of individual commendation I have never been able
to see. CLARA BARTON.

We have no control over the beginning of life and, unless criminally,
none over its ending. CLARA BARTON.

It is not my fault, if my gray hairs are not honorable.

JOHN B. GOUGH.

One is as old as his strength. CLARA BARTON.

We can neither hasten, nor arrest, age. CLARA BARTON.

Let work be thy measure of life. W. E. H. LECKY.

We live in deeds, not years—we should count time by heart-throbs. He
most lives who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.

PHILIP J. BAILEY.

Although she had lived more than ninety years Clara Barton never gave
the impression to anyone that she was an old woman. ‘Her age knows no
time.’ She gave to the world nearly a century of work. ALICE HUBBARD.

A life spent worthily should be measured by a noble line—by deeds, not
years. PIZARRO.

Age is opportunity no less than youth itself, but in a different
dress. H. W. LONGFELLOW.

THE PASSING OF YEARS—RIGHT HABITS OF LIFE

At the age of 11 years Clara Barton was a nurse; at 15 years, a teacher; at 34 years, a clerk in the Patent Office; at 40 years, a nurse in the Civil War; at 59 years, an organizer of nurses in the Franco-Prussian war; at 60 years, President of the American Red Cross; at 78 years as President of the Red Cross in the Spanish-American war; at 83 years, retired from the Presidency of the Red Cross; at 84 years, organizer and the President of the National First Aid Association, which Presidency she held up to the time of her death in 1912, when she was 91 years of age.

Commenting on the passing of years, Clara Barton philosophizes: “Age is no business of ours. We have no control over its beginning and, unless criminally, none over its ending. I have never, since a child, kept a ‘birthday’ nor thought of it only as a reminder by others.

“I have been able to see that persistent marking of dates, and adding one mile-stone every year, encourages the feeling of helplessness, and release from activities which might still be a pleasure to the possessor. Somehow it has come to me to consider strength and activity, aided so far as possible by right habits of life, as forming a more correct line of limitation than the mere ‘passing of years.’”

LVI

Clara Barton, the good angel of comfort, will live enshrined in the
hearts of America and of the world.

_Western Christian_ (Ohio) _Advocate_.

Great evils die hard. CLARA BARTON.

Don’t drink. A. LINCOLN.

Cold water,—the only beverage I have used, or allowed, in my family.
A. LINCOLN.

The saloon, the most blighting curse;—liquor traffic, the tragedy of
civilization—I am a practical prohibitionist. A. LINCOLN.

Intemperance is one of the greatest, if not the greatest, of all the
evils among mankind. A. LINCOLN.

The one victory we can ever call complete will be that one which
proclaims there is not one slave nor drunkard on the face of God’s
green earth.

A. LINCOLN—(In a letter to George E. Pickett.)

Although the temperance cause has been in progress for nearly twenty
years, it is apparent to all that it is just now being crowned with a
degree of success hitherto unparalleled.—Hail, full of fury! Reign of
reason, all hail! A. LINCOLN, February 22, 1842.

Humanity is the peculiar characteristic of great minds.

CHESTERFIELD.

Lincoln’s tenderness was as gentle as a woman’s.

HENRY WARD BEECHER.

Lincoln was human and thus touched the chord that makes the world
akin. H. W. BOLTON, D.D.

God has placed the genius of women in their hearts, because the works
of their genius are always the works of love. LAMARTINE.

SHE WON HIS HEART

The son had broken a mother’s heart, and crushed out her life. The relatives and other mourners were at the open grave, made ready to receive her. Among them stood the son, then maudlin with drink. In that pathetic scene was Clara Barton. She stepped to the side of the boy, and grasped his arm. The ceremony halted. In a low voice she made her appeal; she won his heart; he promised—The casket was lowered; the group separated and she led the boy away. A few more words, then humanity’s friend and the boy parted, she to other deeds of mercy and he to a new life.

LVII

The philosophy of the old-time African servitor was of the most
consoling character—he preached the gospel of contentment, perhaps as
divine as any other principle of the moral law.

LASALLE CORBELL PICKETT—“_In de Miz Series_.”

America had freed a race. CLARA BARTON.

A gift must be outright. CLARA BARTON.

Our gifts fall short of the best. CLARA BARTON.

Charity and beneficence are degraded by being reduced to a dependence
upon a system of beggary. CLARA BARTON.

Charity bears an open palm; to give is her mission.

CLARA BARTON.

How good it is to make two blades of grass grow where was one.

CLARA BARTON.

I know I am right because I know liberty is right. A. LINCOLN.

The colored people would probably help, in some trying time, to keep
the jewel of liberty in the family of freedom. A. LINCOLN.

My early history is perfectly characterized by a single line of Grey’s
elegy:

“The short and simple annals of the poor.”

A. LINCOLN.

The history of philanthropy has few brighter pages to record than at
the Sea Island Hurricane, and its pleasant memories will gladden the
hearts long after its weary hours are forgotten.

CLARA BARTON.

YOU BUY IT FOR HIM

The policy of the Red Cross was to help people to true independence by enabling them to support themselves by their own work. In Galveston after the flood had produced widespread ruin, Clara Barton authorized her field agent to visit the coast towns, ascertain the needs of the people, and send in requisitions by telegraph. As the agent was leaving on this mission she said:

At the Sea Islands one day a negro came to see me. He said that we had built a little house for him, fenced in his field and garden and given him seed and plow and tools to work with. Now if he had a horse or a mule or a little bull to pull the plow he could put in his crops. I gave instructions that his need should be supplied and, as the horse or mule could not be found, a two-year-old steer was bought for him.

Now you are going to the coast country, but wherever you go in all the world if you find anybody who needs a horse or a mule or a little bull, you buy it for him.

Oh, chillun, life’s contra’wise,
But you’ll neber know no diff’unce
’Twel you’s knockin’ at de skies.

LVIII

Clara Barton—perhaps the most perfect incarnation of mercy the modern
world has known. _Detroit Free Press._

Peace and good will to all the world. CLARA BARTON.

Animals are such agreeable friends; they ask no questions, pass no
criticism. GEORGE ELIOT.

Humanity is much more shown in our conduct towards animals than
towards our fellow creatures. CHESTERFIELD.

Some animals are so faithful that I hate to call them brutes.

LORD ERSKINE.

There is in every animal’s eye a dim image and gleam of humanity.

RUSKIN.

Clara Barton’s affection for dumb animals showed itself in almost
every letter. REV. PERCY H. EPLER.

Nature teaches beasts to know their friends. CORIOLANUS.

Asoka, Ruler of India, about 300 years before Christ, organized
hospitals for the treatment of animals. LAJPAT RAI.

Clara Barton had some reward in the fact that every human living thing
that knew her loved her. Roanoke (Va.) _News_.

OR GOD WOULDN’T HAVE MADE THEM

Just back of the old Red Cross house at Glen Echo, the hills slope somewhat abruptly about 100 feet down to the Chesapeake and Ohio canal. The canal is still in use, with its locks intact, the boats plying day and night up and down between its banks. The canal is historic—one of the oldest in the United States. It is of unusual interest because the first construction work was under the supervision of George Washington, he being the President of the canal company. The canal was operated long before railroads came into use in this country. From the Red Cross house forest trees and thick underbrush cover the slope of the hills down to the canal.

One day Miss Barton had a distinguished guest, who wanted to stroll down to the edge of the canal and have her tell him about it. Miss Barton accompanying him, they made their way slowly through the growth of ferns, tall brakes, thick underbrush and dead timbers. On their way a “cotton tail” jumped out from the brush. The visitor suddenly pulled out of his pocket a pistol to kill the rabbit but Miss Barton protested, saying: “I do not permit wild animals to be killed around my place. These animals are my friends; I am very fond of them.” The visitor, disappointed in not enjoying the “sport” of killing, tried to convince his hostess that the squirrels, rabbits, muskrats and other such animals would injure her fruit trees, destroy her flowers and ruin her garden. Miss Barton mildly responded: “I suppose they do, but they also must do some good in the world too, or God wouldn’t have made them.”

LIX

All creeds in need of help enlisted Clara Barton’s sympathies and
received her cordial assistance. HARRIETTE L. REED, Past National
Secretary, Woman’s Relief Corps.

Neither “Mental” nor “Christian” Science, nor Theosophy claims to be
new, but only the distinct enunciation of great world-wide truths.
TOLSTOI.

I read “Science and Health” very conscientiously at all times.

CLARA BARTON.

I accepted Christian Science as something better than I had known,
without seeing its text books, without ever having heard an argument.
CLARA BARTON.

Isn’t it blessed that the way is opening for the relief of the ills of
the human race—poor, suffering race, how many of our ills we make
ourselves. CLARA BARTON.

CLARA BARTON—MARY BAKER EDDY

Clara Barton and Mary Baker Eddy[6] were warm personal friends.

Footnote 6:

Born July 16, 1821, five months and nine days before Clara Barton.

For three years Clara Barton attended the Christian Science Church, but did not become a member. On numerous occasions Miss Barton expressed high estimation of the work done under the leadership of that most wonderful woman, Mary Baker Eddy, in the religious life of the people. Spiritually these two great women were in harmony.

“Miss Clara Barton,” says Mrs. Eddy, “dipped her pen in my heart, and traced its emotions, motives and objects. Then lifting the curtain of mortal mind, she depicted its rooms, guests, standing and seating capacity, and thereafter gave her discovery to the press.

“Now, if Miss Barton were not a venerable soldier, patriot, philanthropist, moralist and stateswoman, I should shrink from much salient praise, but in consideration of all that Miss Barton really is, and knowing that she can bear the blame which may follow said description of her soul visit, I will say ‘Amen,’ so be it.”

On December 5, 1910, in her diary, Clara Barton writes: “This morning brings the sad news of the death of Mrs. Mary Baker Eddy.” In the diary the following day Miss Barton writes: “More particulars concerning the passing of Mrs. Eddy. All so quiet, correct—no form, no excitement, no mourning; all peaceful, thoughtful, proper. What a lesson she has taught the world, and what faithful, apt scholars she has taught and trained! The greatest woman of all; her life a signal triumph and her death the greatest of all.

“No criticisms _now_, no light comments. Her followers bow in meek submission and her foes stand rebuked. There is no such person left, no such mind, no such ability. Long ago I said she was our greatest living woman; I now say she is our greatest dead.”

LX

Clara Barton has given us a constant lesson in thrift. She lived so
simply that at her desk, at work, a piece of bread and cheese and one
apple was her dinner; a frugal supper and a most abstemious breakfast.
ALICE HUBBARD.

Count Tolstoi gave up his whole time to mitigating the suffering
caused by the Russian famine. CLARA BARTON.

The simple needs being the only true needs, their satisfaction alone
is guaranteed. TOLSTOI.

The satisfaction of all simple, normal wants is guaranteed to men as
it is to the bird and the flower. TOLSTOI.

The brave soul rates itself too high to value itself by the splendor
of its table and draperies. RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

Economy, prudence, and the simple life are the sure masters of need.
CLARA BARTON.

LIKE TOLSTOI SHE LIVED THE SIMPLE LIFE

Clara Barton’s food was of the simplest. Costly food, even at another’s expense, she could not enjoy; eating costly food, to her, seemed a sin. For breakfast, her first choice of menu was a dish of graham mush, with milk and fruit; her second choice, meal grains and vegetables, with simple accompaniments.

COUNT LYOF NIKOLAYEVITCH TOLSTOI

I would like to visit the United States, but I would want to spend the
time among the farmers. Give Clara Barton my love; I feel that we
are related.—COUNT LYOF NIKOLAYEVITCH TOLSTOI.
]

CO-WORKERS WITH CLARA BARTON

DR. HENRY W. BELLOWS

Miss Barton, I trust you will press this (Red Cross) matter upon our
present administration with all the might of your well-earned
influence.—DR. HENRY W. BELLOWS (November 21, 1881). Ex-Chairman, U.
S. Sanitary Commission.
]

DR. JULIAN B. HUBBELL

Clara Barton was scrupulously honest, severely economical in her
personal needs, always sacrificing self for others, and her simple
life in her home was as beautiful as her public life.—DR. JULIAN B.
HUBBELL, Clara Barton’s physician and co-worker in the field for
thirty years.
]

A favorite meal was bread, cheese and a Rhode Island Greening Apple. Two meals a day satisfied, and nothing eaten between meals. No tea, no coffee, no substitutes, and no wine. A bottle of wine presented by a friend would last from one year to five years. There is now a bottle of Bordeaux, in her old home at Glen Echo, that has been there for twenty-five years. Like Tolstoi, she was a vegetarian, and an advocate of “low fare”; but, like Tolstoi, she did not so much as advise the household of which she was a member what to eat, or how much to eat. Like Tolstoi, Clara Barton lived the simple life, but did not impose her philosophy upon others; like Tolstoi, she lived to a ripe old age, endured persecution, and served the human race. So much in common were their habits of living, and their philosophy of human life, that Tolstoi, in sending his love to Clara Barton, said: “I feel that we are related.”

LXI

Two Angels—God’s sweet gifts, one of the Old World, one of the New.—E.
MAY GLENN TOON.

Just as Florence Nightingale was “The Angel of Crimea,” so Clara
Barton was “The Angel of the World’s Battlefields.”

_Boston Transcript._

Florence Nightingale, who introduced into the world a system of women
hospital nurses, was ousted from her Governmental position, she then
being an invalid. Later the treatment accorded to her by England was
made a national issue, and on that issue her admirers and friends
overwhelmingly won. THE AUTHOR.

At the unveiling of the Florence Nightingale Memorial in the Crypt of
St. Paul’s Cathedral, as she pulled the cord revealing the beautiful
sculpture, Queen Victoria said: “I have great pleasure in unveiling
this memorial.” THE AUTHOR.

Although unknown to each other save in name, the “Lady of the Lamp”
and the “Angel of the Battlefield” were indeed sisters.

CONSTANCE WAKEFORD.

When Florence Nightingale labored among the sick and wounded at
Scutari, Clara Barton was still writing beautiful “copper-plate style”
in the office at Washington. ENGLISH AUTHOR.

When Florence Nightingale had safely returned to her lovely home in
England, the great call came to Clara Barton away on the other side of
the Atlantic. ENGLISH AUTHOR.

For half a century we have thanked God for what Florence Nightingale
has wrought and taught. CONSTANCE WAKEFORD.

Clara Barton’s personal devotion had already planted the idea of the
Red Cross in the heart of the American people better than any official
bureau could do. _Heroines of Modern Progress._

I will not speak of reward when permitted to do our country’s work—it
is what we live for. FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE.

What is money without a country! CLARA BARTON.

CLARA BARTON—FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE

Clara Barton was born in 1821 and lived to be ninety-one years of age.

Florence Nightingale was born in 1820 and lived to be ninety years of age.

Clara Barton lived her long life without marrying; Florence Nightingale likewise lived her long life without marrying.

Clara Barton is known as the “Angel of the Battlefield”; Florence Nightingale, as the “Lady of the Lamp.”

Although they were strangers to each other, they are known as, indeed, sisters.

Clara Barton had the distinction of being born on Christmas and passing away on Easter; Florence Nightingale had the distinction of having for a name the name of a stately city and a sweet-voiced bird.

Clara Barton as a nurse had her first experience nursing a brother by the name of David; Florence Nightingale as a nurse had her first experience caring for a pet shepherd dog by the name of “Cap.”

Clara Barton on an army wagon seated with a mule driver left Washington to go to the battlefields of the Civil War; Florence Nightingale on board of a vessel with 38 other nurses, sailed from England to go to the hospitals at Scutari, Turkey, in the Crimean War.

Clara Barton continually “followed the cannon” from the camps of the soldiers on to the “firing line”; Florence Nightingale lived at Scutari, but on one occasion inspected the camps of the soldiers at Balaclava within hearing of the cannon.

Clara Barton had for a pet, presented to her, a white Arabian horse and known as “Baba”; Florence Nightingale had for a pet, presented to her, a Russian hound, and known as “Miss Nightingale’s Crimean Dog.”

Clara Barton wore the Iron Cross of Prussia, representing Germany, and presented to her by Emperor William I; Florence Nightingale wore a brooch bearing a St. George’s Cross, in red enamel on a white field representing England, and presented to her by Queen Victoria.

Clara Barton received from the Sultan of Turkey a “Diploma,” and “Decorations”; Florence Nightingale received from the Sultan of Turkey a costly diamond necklace.

The United States Government refused to appropriate one thousand dollars for a memorial tablet to Clara Barton in the Red Cross Building; England conferred on Florence Nightingale the dignity of a “Lady of Grace of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem,” and later the still higher “Order of Merit,” founded by King Edward VII himself, in 1902.

The people of the United States contributed to a fund for Clara Barton—well, perhaps, this is a secret and should not be told here; the people of England contributed to a fund for Florence Nightingale, through the Jenny Lind concerts and in other ways, a fund amounting to $250,000, the fund since used to establish the “Nightingale Home at St. Thomas’ Hospital”—a Training School for Nurses.

By her request, Clara Barton was buried near her home at Oxford, Massachusetts; by her request, Florence Nightingale was buried near her home at Lea Hurst, Derbyshire, England.

Clara Barton built for herself, at her own expense, a very unpretentious memorial in her family burying ground at Oxford; Her Majesty the Queen unveiled the memorial to Florence Nightingale in the crypt of St. Paul’s Cathedral, London, where are the tombs of Nelson, Wellington, Wolsey and Lord Roberts.

The plain granite monument to Clara Barton in the country cemetery bears the inscription:

CLARA BARTON
ANGEL OF THE BATTLEFIELD
Civil War 1861–1865.
Franco-Prussian War 1870–1871.
Spanish-American War 1898.
Organizer and President of the American
National Red Cross 1881–1904.
December 25, 1821–April 12, 1912.
BARTON

The memorial to Florence Nightingale is a beautiful sculpture in white marble, representing Florence Nightingale bending over a wounded soldier, to whose lips she is holding a cup. A rich alabaster frame surrounds the marble, inscribed above with a legend, “Blessed are the merciful” and below: Florence Nightingale, O. M.; born May 12, 1820—died August 13th, 1910.

Of two famous women be it written:

Their bodies are buried in peace; but their names live for evermore.

LXII

American Red Cross Founder, a life of sacrifice.

_New York Tribune._

We realize the economies which Clara Barton lived and practiced, that
she might give life and aid to those who were in dire need. _The Fra._

Economy is not parsimony. BURKE.

Economy is no disgrace. BERZ.

It would be well if we had more misers. GOLDSMITH.

Economy is the poor man’s mint. TUPPER.

Economy is half the battle of life. SPURGEON.

Economy is the parent of integrity, of liberty, and of ease.

DR. S. JOHNSON.

A habit of economy is prolific of a numerous offspring of virtues.