remarked that same simple unaffected directness and compelling attractiveness which two of us had known as probationers.

The day following Miss Hampton's arrival in Chicago she interviewed and accepted or rejected the class of probationers and we therefore have the honor of being her first pupil nurses.

The methods of teaching and the division of time in a nurse's training, which then prevailed in all schools for nurses, was still unsystematic and disorderly and Miss Hampton seems to have been the first superintendent to grasp the possibilities of reducing both the practice and theory of nursing in the schools to a graded system.

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This task of reconstruction she accomplished within a year and in our second year, when Miss Hampton and the school had the assistance and teaching of Miss Kimber and Miss Draper, the school was as systematically taught as it is to-day.

At that time, as young nurses, we were too ignorant to comprehend what such changes meant and that our superintendent was making history, but were rather more inclined to think " a new broom sweeps clean," but before our second year was over we began to dimly realize that we should be devoutly thankful for the new order of things, and now, after the lapse of these many years, we are filled with amazement at the intelligence, the discernment, and the undismayed courage which carried Miss Hampton through that period of reconstruction when the school was struggling with poverty and the dominance of corrupt politics in the hospital.

During the third and last year of Miss Hampton's administration of the Illinois Training School she brought about an affiliation with the Presbyterian Hospital which gave pupils the advantage of training with private patients, an arrangement which existed for sixteen years.

In the summer of 1889 Miss Hampton resigned and began her great work of organizing the Johns Hopkins Hospital school for nurses.

No monument of marble nor tablet of brass will be more enduring than the spirit which Isabel Adams Hampton imbued into her first school for nurses. Her life-giving enthusiasm and reverence for her profession stamped themselves upon every nurse whose good fortune it was to be among her pupils, and to one who has lived to see succeeding classes of nurses it is at times almost startling to hear the expression of the ideals and precepts she taught more than twenty years ago.

Following Miss Hampton's marriage to Dr. Hunter Robb, in 1894, it was the writer's privilege to be associated with her in some of the great plans she originated for the nursing profession and to have known her in her own home with her beloved family.

Into all of these varied experiences, from the care and education of her children to the establishment of national organizations for nurses, she put the same wonderful enthusiasm and vivid personality; whether the subject was her baby's diet, her house or garden, or the problems of the course of Hospital Economics at Teachers College, she could do no other way than to give all of her splendid self. It is not often that a strong personality with a gift for organization has a high appreciation of the fine arts, but Mrs. Robb's attitude to music, to the drama, to painting and sculpture, and to the beauty of the mountains and the sea, was almost devotional. She said that the loveliness of the Italian lake country always brought tears to her eyes, and one who had sat beside her through a Thomas orchestra concert, or spent a day in an art gallery with her, or shared a seat with her on a drive through the mountains, never forgot her love of everything artistic and beautiful nor her boundless interest"in all things both great and small."

To have known and loved such a woman is to know that no mightier power exists in human affairs than the influence of a great and good

Ir was while I was on duty as night superintendent at Bellevue that I first met Miss Hampton. She came to the training school one morning to see some one of her friends, and I was presented to her. I remember that, it being rather late in the morning, she reproved me for being out of bed, with that serious, dignified, sympathetic yet restrained manner so characteristic of her, which instantly struck me as the perfection of bearing for a nurse. I did not see nor hear of her again until she wrote

offering me the position of her assistant at the Johns Hopkins. I wonder now at this piece of great good fortune; I was then so crude and inexperienced that I thought everything coming my way was perfectly natural and to be expected. It amused me greatly to learn that home friends, doubtless feeling then the surprise that I feel now, concluded that there must have been some hidden influence" at work.

I shall never forget my first sight of her there. I had been shown to my room and was taking off my things when she knocked at the door and appeared, so gracious and cordial, so wholesome and buoyant, yet so dignified; I thought I had never seen a more beautiful or majestic figure except on the pedestal of some classic sculpture. She wore the uniform that was habitual with her through most of the year, a soft black china silk with thin white cuffs and collar, and a cap, whose pattern she had designed herself and which was most becoming to her. Its extreme simplicity, almost severity, suited her perfectly. Miss Nutting afterwards wore this same cap, and it may be seen in photographs of each. Miss Hampton's color was rich and fresh, her eyes the clearest blue, unusually large and beautifully set and opened; her voice was one of her greatest charms, being very sweet and quiet, yet with a certain thrill in it when she was in earnest. Her hands were also extremely beautiful, displaying her character and power of organization. They were perfect enough to have been modeled.

The three years that followed were the most delightful possible. The hospital was new, and though the fortune bequeathed to it had been gathered by the most unlovely business methods, the trustees, who were all men of the highest aims, framed a noble ideal of its mission. It was designed to be a centre of liberal teaching and instruction, and to radiate the pure light of science for truth's sake. A fresh and inspiring atmosphere did indeed permeate the whole place, and there was not then the rush of work that has now fallen upon it. In contrast to the vast and crowded Bellevue it struck me at first as being "nearly all hospital, and very little patient."

Life in the training school was cheerful and simple. It was Miss Hampton's custom to read prayers just after breakfast, in the parlor, and with military discipline every nurse attended. It was always a new sensation to see her, serene and beautiful, enter the room with her prayerbook in hand, after the whole staff had taken place, and this impression was not lessened when I learned, later, that she had sometimes dressed in three and a half minutes. We had a hymn, which I played on the piano, then it was our custom to go with the nurses to the door and watch them go down the corridor. When I think of the hospital now,