nion in this _Study_ serves to show
that, great as was Moorman's authority in the field of language, it was
always to literature, above all to poetry, that his heart went naturally
out. The closing years of his life were to set this beyond doubt.

It would be absurd to close this sketch of Moorman's professional
activities without a reference, however slight, to what was, after all,
one of the most significant things about them. No man can, in the full
sense, be a teacher unless, in some way or other, he throws himself into
the life and interests of his students. And it was among the
secrets--perhaps the chief secret--of Moorman's influence as a teacher
that, so far from being mere names in a register, his students were to
him always young people of flesh and blood, in whose interests he could
share, whose companion he delighted to be, and who felt that they could
turn to him for advice and sympathy as often as they were in need. No
doubt his own youthfulness of temper, the almost boyish spirits which
seldom or never flagged in him, helped greatly to this result; but the
true fountain of it all lay in his ingrained unselfishness. The same
power was to make itself felt among the classes for older students which
he held in the last years of his life.

To fulfil all these academical duties in the liberal spirit, which was
the only spirit possible to Moorman, might well have been expected to
exhaust the energies of any man. Yet, amidst them all, he found time to
take part, both as lecturer and as trusted adviser, in the activities of
the Workers' Educational Association, attending summer meetings and,
during the last five or six winters of his life, delivering weekly
lectures and taking part in the ensuing discussions, at Crossgates, one
of the outlying suburbs of Leeds. To the students who there, year by
year, gathered round him he greatly endeared himself by his power of
understanding their difficulties and of presenting great poetry in a way
that came home to their experience and imagination. His growing sympathy
with the life of homestead and cottage made this a work increasingly
congenial to him; and, as a lecturer, he was perhaps never so happy, in
all senses of the word, as when, released from the "idols of the
lecture-room," he was seeking to awake, or keep alive, in others that
love of imaginative beauty which counted for so much in his own life and
in his discharge of the daily tasks that fell upon him: speaking f