lton Locke_. The living voice of Ruskin
taught us the sanctity of work for others. A fascinating but awful book
called _Modern Christianity a Civilized Heathenism_ laid compelling
hands on some young hearts; and in 1875 Dr. Pusey made that book the
subject of a sermon before the University, in which he pleaded the cause
of the poor with an unforgettable solemnity.[56]

For two or three years, illness and decrepitude interfered with my
active service, but the ideal was still enthroned in my heart; and, as
health returned, the shame of doing nothing for others became
intolerable. Return to activity was a very gradual process, and, if one
had ever "despised the day of small things," one now learned to value
it. When I came up to London, two or three of us, who had been
undergraduate friends at Oxford, formed a little party for
workhouse-visiting. One of the party has since been a Conservative
Minister, one a Liberal Minister, and one a high official of the Central
Conservative Association. Sisters joined their brothers, and we used to
jog off together on Saturday afternoons to the Holborn Workhouse,
which, if I remember right, stood in a poetically-named but
prosaic-looking street called "Shepherdess Walk." The girls visited the
women, and we the men. We used to take oranges and flowers to the wards,
give short readings from amusing books, and gossip with the bedridden
about the outside world. We always had the kindest of welcomes from our
old friends; and great was their enthusiasm when they learned that two
of their visitors had been returned to Parliament at the General
Election of 1880. As one of the two was a Conservative and one a
Liberal, the political susceptibilities of the ward were not offended,
and we both received congratulations from all alike. One quaint incident
is connected with these memories. Just outside the Workhouse was a sort
of booth, or "lean-to," where a very respectable woman sold daffodils
and wall-flowers, which we used to buy for our friends inside. One day,
when one of the girls of our party was making her purchase, the
flower-seller said, "Would your Ladyship like to go to the Lady
Mayoress's Fancy Dress Ball? If so, I can send you and your brother
tickets. You have been good customers to me, and I should be very glad
if you would accept them." The explanation was that the flower-seller
was sister to the Lady Mayoress, whom the Lord Mayor had married when he
was in a humbler station. The tic