Arthur
Clough, the poet, also a connection by marriage, she used in
other ways. Ever since he had lost his faith at the time of the
Oxford Movement, Clough had passed his life in a condition of
considerable uneasiness, which was increased rather than
diminished by the practice of poetry. Unable to decide upon the
purpose of an existence whose savour had fled together with his
belief in the Resurrection, his spirits lowered still further by
ill-health, and his income not all that it should be, he had
determined to seek the solution of his difficulties in the United
States of America. But, even there, the solution was not
forthcoming; and, when, a little later, he was offered a post in
a government department at home, he accepted it, came to live in
London, and immediately fell under the influence of Miss
Nightingale. Though the purpose of existence might be still
uncertain and its nature still unsavoury, here, at any rate,
under the eye of this inspired woman, was something real,
something earnest: his only doubt was-- could he be of any use?
Certainly he could. There were a great number of miscellaneous
little jobs which there was nobody handy to do. For instance,
when Miss Nightingale was travelling, there were the railway-
tickets to be taken; and there were proof-sheets to be corrected;
and then there were parcels to be done up in brown paper, and
carried to the post.
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