or was in some
measure her character. We reverence her calm fearlessness and forceful
energies, her genius for overcoming obstacles, her common sense, her
largeness of mind and purpose, and we rejoice in the splendour of her
achievements."[4]

Home.

"It is not of her great qualities that I think now, but rather that she
was such a darling."[5]

Serbia.

"By her knowledge she cured the physical wounds of the Serb soldiers. By
her shining face she cured their souls. Silent, busy, smiling--that was
her method. She strengthened the faith of her patients in _knowledge_
and in _Christianity_. Scotland hardly could send to Serbia a better
Christian missionary."[6]

As the days pass, bringing the figure of Elsie Inglis into perspective,
these true and beautiful pictures of her fall quietly into the
background, and one idea begins slowly to emerge and to expand, and to
become the most real fact about her. As we follow her outward life and
read the writings she left behind her, we come to realize that her
greatness lay not so much in the things she achieved as in the hidden
power of her spirit. _She was a woman of solved problems._ The
far-reaching qualities of her mind and character are but the outcome of
this inward condition.

All men and women have problems; few solve them. The solved problem in
any life is the expression of genius, and is the cause of strength and
peace in the character.

"It is amazing how sometimes a name begins to shine like a star, and
then to glow and glow until it fills the firmament. Such a name is Elsie
Inglis."[7]

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Dr. Seton-Watson.

[2] The London Committee of the N.U.W.S.S.

[3] A medical colleague.

[4] Mrs. Flinders Petrie.

[5] I. A. W., niece.

[6] Bishop Nicolai Velimirovic.

[7] Rev. Norman Maclean, D.D.

CHAPTER II

THE ROCK FROM WHICH SHE WAS HEWN

_"It is not the weariness of mortality, but the Strength of
Divinity which we have to recognize in all mighty things."_

In the centre stands Elsie Inglis, the "woman of gentle breeding, short
of stature, alert, and with the eyes of a seer," and "a smile like
sunshine"; and on either side and behind this central figure the stage
is crowded with men and women of long ago, the people of her race. One
by one they catch our eye, and we note their connection with the central
figure.

Far back in the group (for it is near two hundred years ago) stands Hugh
Inglis, hailing from