‘July 1898.‘I have so often thought of our interrupted conversation, and must take a bit of my first Saturday evening to write a line.‘You were feeling, I judge, somewhat as Wordsworth did when he wrote theOde on Immortality.This is, I think, how the matter stands. When we are young, we think that perfection,i.e.the ideal, can be found on earth—we set up, perhaps, some earthly idol, and endow it with every excellence. Then we find that we have been in a measure mistaken. What shall we do? Doubtless there does then come upon us the shadow of a great darkness, as we find how much evil there is, and we are tempted to believe the lying word of Satan, that the kingdoms of the world are his. Shall we then lower our ideal, say we will conform to that which is, or believe the heavenly proclamation—“the kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord and of His Christ”—and work on to make this as true as we can for our own souls, and for those near us? We see that the ideals cannot be realised on earth, because this is a place of discipline. Many make a worldly marriage because they give up their ideal, and conform to what is, instead of ever striving to bring about what ought to be—nothing can make that right. But on the other hand we must be content to be the companions of those who, like ourselves, are “compassed about with infirmities,” to arm them for the fight with evil, and to love those who are not perfect, as Britomart did the Red Cross Knight. What I want you all to keep before you is that one day the ideal will be realised, as the Bible and our own hearts assure us, and to join the army of light and go right on, confident of eventual victory. You have,my dear child, a somewhat heavy burden of responsibility for your age, and you miss the sustaining hand, but you must not look down, but up! Take our first Cambridge Room motto:“As the soar falcon, so I strive to fly,In contemplation of the immortal sky.”There we may look for the realisation of our earthly endeavours, as Abt Vogler teaches. I wonder if you read Browning. I wish you had a Browning Society.—With much sympathy, ...’
‘July 1898.
‘I have so often thought of our interrupted conversation, and must take a bit of my first Saturday evening to write a line.
‘You were feeling, I judge, somewhat as Wordsworth did when he wrote theOde on Immortality.This is, I think, how the matter stands. When we are young, we think that perfection,i.e.the ideal, can be found on earth—we set up, perhaps, some earthly idol, and endow it with every excellence. Then we find that we have been in a measure mistaken. What shall we do? Doubtless there does then come upon us the shadow of a great darkness, as we find how much evil there is, and we are tempted to believe the lying word of Satan, that the kingdoms of the world are his. Shall we then lower our ideal, say we will conform to that which is, or believe the heavenly proclamation—“the kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord and of His Christ”—and work on to make this as true as we can for our own souls, and for those near us? We see that the ideals cannot be realised on earth, because this is a place of discipline. Many make a worldly marriage because they give up their ideal, and conform to what is, instead of ever striving to bring about what ought to be—nothing can make that right. But on the other hand we must be content to be the companions of those who, like ourselves, are “compassed about with infirmities,” to arm them for the fight with evil, and to love those who are not perfect, as Britomart did the Red Cross Knight. What I want you all to keep before you is that one day the ideal will be realised, as the Bible and our own hearts assure us, and to join the army of light and go right on, confident of eventual victory. You have,my dear child, a somewhat heavy burden of responsibility for your age, and you miss the sustaining hand, but you must not look down, but up! Take our first Cambridge Room motto:
“As the soar falcon, so I strive to fly,In contemplation of the immortal sky.”
“As the soar falcon, so I strive to fly,In contemplation of the immortal sky.”
“As the soar falcon, so I strive to fly,In contemplation of the immortal sky.”
“As the soar falcon, so I strive to fly,
In contemplation of the immortal sky.”
There we may look for the realisation of our earthly endeavours, as Abt Vogler teaches. I wonder if you read Browning. I wish you had a Browning Society.—With much sympathy, ...’
To one who had written of the ‘Intolerance of Church people’:—
‘July 1884.‘ ... But it does seem to me quite impossible in education to leave religion an open question,i.e., to teach without hypothesis. How could we unite into one coherent whole the teaching of optics, unless we presuppose the undulatory theory? Or the facts of astronomy without the theory of gravitation? Yet both may be, and are questioned. For some philosophical theory must underlie all things, and no one can, it seems to me, teach history, or geography, or science without it. We who believe in Christian philosophy, and feel that it alone makes the universe intelligible, and life worth living for ourselves or others; who think that it is the power needed to give life to the world, and to deliver us from evil and all the misery which oppresses us, naturally desire with all the energy of our being to teach it, and we most of us would not let little differences hinder our working with those who acknowledge the immeasurable blessings of Christ’s teaching. Here I found dissenters wishing that the teaching of our College should be Church; because they said there must be some basis; that they would rather let their children hear sometimes what they disagreed with, and judge for themselves, than that there should be no definite teaching. They thought our Church was on the whole the most liberal.‘I am so grieved, dear friend, that any of us should bring disgrace on our Teacher by our faults, but when we do what our Master, the Truth, disapproved, the blame should not rest on Him. It would not be just to you if we called a child who was in your class and loved you, by your name when she told a lie. Nor should you say, “See what Christians do,” when they sin against Christ.In so faras they are untruthful they are un-Christian.‘Then, had you not, even as you admit, condemned utterly those whose conduct admitted of a more favourable interpretation? We are not utterly truthful, unless we do more than act up to our convictions, unless we do our utmost to make those convictions as near the truth as we are able. And do you know I felt so disappointed after talking to you the other day, because it seemed to me as if you had not cared to search into the depths of things, as if you were content to float about instead of searching for the rock beneath the flood. Our apprehension of the truth regarding the goodness of God, and His purpose for us, and our duty to our Father and to one another, seems to me the priceless pearl. I found you had not read what I thought you would have read, the works in which the ages have indeed drawn for us pictures of those who wrestled with God in the darkness and cried—“Tell me Thy Name.” And now you disappoint me again, as some other of my dear Agnostic friends. They seem wanting in the tenderness of those who ever look up to Jesus Christ, and therefore learn to feel in the light of His example. This our miserable failure, the habitual self-examination and definite confession of sin, helps us to. There, I have told you what is in my heart. The former on thinking over our conversation I meant to say, because I love you. The latter, (the want of sympathy,) I did not know of. I wonder if you will misunderstand me now,—perhaps,—but I have felt you did not before.’
‘July 1884.
‘ ... But it does seem to me quite impossible in education to leave religion an open question,i.e., to teach without hypothesis. How could we unite into one coherent whole the teaching of optics, unless we presuppose the undulatory theory? Or the facts of astronomy without the theory of gravitation? Yet both may be, and are questioned. For some philosophical theory must underlie all things, and no one can, it seems to me, teach history, or geography, or science without it. We who believe in Christian philosophy, and feel that it alone makes the universe intelligible, and life worth living for ourselves or others; who think that it is the power needed to give life to the world, and to deliver us from evil and all the misery which oppresses us, naturally desire with all the energy of our being to teach it, and we most of us would not let little differences hinder our working with those who acknowledge the immeasurable blessings of Christ’s teaching. Here I found dissenters wishing that the teaching of our College should be Church; because they said there must be some basis; that they would rather let their children hear sometimes what they disagreed with, and judge for themselves, than that there should be no definite teaching. They thought our Church was on the whole the most liberal.
‘I am so grieved, dear friend, that any of us should bring disgrace on our Teacher by our faults, but when we do what our Master, the Truth, disapproved, the blame should not rest on Him. It would not be just to you if we called a child who was in your class and loved you, by your name when she told a lie. Nor should you say, “See what Christians do,” when they sin against Christ.In so faras they are untruthful they are un-Christian.
‘Then, had you not, even as you admit, condemned utterly those whose conduct admitted of a more favourable interpretation? We are not utterly truthful, unless we do more than act up to our convictions, unless we do our utmost to make those convictions as near the truth as we are able. And do you know I felt so disappointed after talking to you the other day, because it seemed to me as if you had not cared to search into the depths of things, as if you were content to float about instead of searching for the rock beneath the flood. Our apprehension of the truth regarding the goodness of God, and His purpose for us, and our duty to our Father and to one another, seems to me the priceless pearl. I found you had not read what I thought you would have read, the works in which the ages have indeed drawn for us pictures of those who wrestled with God in the darkness and cried—“Tell me Thy Name.” And now you disappoint me again, as some other of my dear Agnostic friends. They seem wanting in the tenderness of those who ever look up to Jesus Christ, and therefore learn to feel in the light of His example. This our miserable failure, the habitual self-examination and definite confession of sin, helps us to. There, I have told you what is in my heart. The former on thinking over our conversation I meant to say, because I love you. The latter, (the want of sympathy,) I did not know of. I wonder if you will misunderstand me now,—perhaps,—but I have felt you did not before.’
The following was written to a former student, who after a time of great religious privilege had been assailed by special temptation:—
‘August 1888.‘My dear Friend,—I am grieved that you have suffered so much, and yet it was not sent you in vain. It was to correct faults in yourself, and to help you in your vocation to correct those in others. You did not, I feel sure, yield to the wrong, but fought against it, and temptation is not sin.‘I have been thinking what you could read. Do you know Froebel’s own works? I think some of these (which are not light reading) would be nice for you on your travels. I like always a book that is suitable for a little reading and much thinking. He is so bathed in the spirit of love, so deeply Christian and so full of the spirit of liberty. When you come home you must come and pay us a visit,—that and Rosmini I should like you to read. I have asked Miss Gore to send you one ofmy photos, in case you care to have it, when we go home.—With deep sympathy, yours most sincerely,D. Beale.’
‘August 1888.
‘My dear Friend,—I am grieved that you have suffered so much, and yet it was not sent you in vain. It was to correct faults in yourself, and to help you in your vocation to correct those in others. You did not, I feel sure, yield to the wrong, but fought against it, and temptation is not sin.
‘I have been thinking what you could read. Do you know Froebel’s own works? I think some of these (which are not light reading) would be nice for you on your travels. I like always a book that is suitable for a little reading and much thinking. He is so bathed in the spirit of love, so deeply Christian and so full of the spirit of liberty. When you come home you must come and pay us a visit,—that and Rosmini I should like you to read. I have asked Miss Gore to send you one ofmy photos, in case you care to have it, when we go home.—With deep sympathy, yours most sincerely,
D. Beale.’
Among the letters are many to old pupils on the deaths of relations or friends. The next was written to Miss Alice Owen, now Mrs. Mark Collet, on the anniversary of her mother’s death:—
‘June 1891.‘This was a birthday eight years ago into a world of larger scope than this, and I feel as if her spirit were still watching over those she loved on earth....‘Surely the tides of eternal love, flowing in upon our narrow lives, will make us all of one spirit, sorrowing and rejoicing with one another, instead of judging, because we feel, as she taught in that beautiful parable, that we are one.‘May our Lord give you an ever larger measure of His own love.’
‘June 1891.
‘This was a birthday eight years ago into a world of larger scope than this, and I feel as if her spirit were still watching over those she loved on earth....
‘Surely the tides of eternal love, flowing in upon our narrow lives, will make us all of one spirit, sorrowing and rejoicing with one another, instead of judging, because we feel, as she taught in that beautiful parable, that we are one.
‘May our Lord give you an ever larger measure of His own love.’
The next letter refers to the death of Mrs. Russell Gurney:—
‘October 1896.‘I got a letter from Orme Square this morning. Our beloved friend entered into rest yesterday. I think of the glad meeting of those who were kindred souls on earth. I had also a note from Addington saying how thankful Mrs. Benson is, and happy in spite of her loss.’
‘October 1896.
‘I got a letter from Orme Square this morning. Our beloved friend entered into rest yesterday. I think of the glad meeting of those who were kindred souls on earth. I had also a note from Addington saying how thankful Mrs. Benson is, and happy in spite of her loss.’
Several other letters of a kindred nature follow.
To Miss Giles, on the death of her father:—
‘April 1871.‘Still in one way we who are old suffer less from parting. To us the time seems so short, ere we may hope to meet once more where are no more partings or tears.’
‘April 1871.
‘Still in one way we who are old suffer less from parting. To us the time seems so short, ere we may hope to meet once more where are no more partings or tears.’
To Miss Susan Wood, on the death of her mother:—
‘May 1880.‘I need not tell you I have felt much for you. One could not have wished the suffering prolonged, and yet one does not feel the loss less. Happily, one seems generally to forget, when all is over, the last painful incidents of the sickness, and to remember the past years. Few have had a more devoted mother. How proud she was of your successes! How old it makes usfeel when we take our place in the front rank of the army of life; may we be able to say, when we too are struck down, “I have fought a good fight.” May God bless your work, my dear child, to the everlasting weal of those whom He has given you.’
‘May 1880.
‘I need not tell you I have felt much for you. One could not have wished the suffering prolonged, and yet one does not feel the loss less. Happily, one seems generally to forget, when all is over, the last painful incidents of the sickness, and to remember the past years. Few have had a more devoted mother. How proud she was of your successes! How old it makes usfeel when we take our place in the front rank of the army of life; may we be able to say, when we too are struck down, “I have fought a good fight.” May God bless your work, my dear child, to the everlasting weal of those whom He has given you.’
To Miss Frances Crawley, afterwards Mrs. Wells:—
‘July 1881.‘I must write you one line of sympathy in this great sorrow. I know how much you loved your dear father, and had longed for this visit, and now there will be a great blank. You will not think now “How glad he will be if I do well.” But on the other hand, my dear child, you will feel you must be more than ever to your mother. You children will be all to her now. Besides, God never takes but He also gives—only we often miss the gift because we don’t look for it. He will help you to know Him better as your Father, partly because you will think of your own father as near Him, for where our treasure is, there our hearts are also. You will think more of pleasing Him, and so preparing to meet those who have loved you and loved God, where there will be no more death for ever.’
‘July 1881.
‘I must write you one line of sympathy in this great sorrow. I know how much you loved your dear father, and had longed for this visit, and now there will be a great blank. You will not think now “How glad he will be if I do well.” But on the other hand, my dear child, you will feel you must be more than ever to your mother. You children will be all to her now. Besides, God never takes but He also gives—only we often miss the gift because we don’t look for it. He will help you to know Him better as your Father, partly because you will think of your own father as near Him, for where our treasure is, there our hearts are also. You will think more of pleasing Him, and so preparing to meet those who have loved you and loved God, where there will be no more death for ever.’
To an old pupil, on the death of her father:—
‘November 9, 1896.‘My dear Child,—This is indeed a blessed death for one so good as your father; you must give thanks for him.‘There is no service I think so strengthening as the burial; may you be comforted and strengthened for the battle of life by a clearer vision of that unseen host which is ever near, though “our eyes are holden that we see them not” through want of faith. Soon must we join their ranks. Shall we join in their psalms of thanksgiving?’
‘November 9, 1896.
‘My dear Child,—This is indeed a blessed death for one so good as your father; you must give thanks for him.
‘There is no service I think so strengthening as the burial; may you be comforted and strengthened for the battle of life by a clearer vision of that unseen host which is ever near, though “our eyes are holden that we see them not” through want of faith. Soon must we join their ranks. Shall we join in their psalms of thanksgiving?’
To Miss Strong, on the death of Miss Margaret Clarke:—
‘February 3, 1897.‘Indeed I am grieved; she has been a power for good, and has sent out some grand workers, and I shall miss her greatly. I am thankful I was with her at Christmas.‘One feels sure “her works will follow her,” and He who gave her power will raise up others. It is, so far as one can see, too heavy a burden for Kate alone. Her memory will be a power, her life was so wonderfully guided, and one feels sure she has work to do beyond, for which the training of earth will have prepared her.’
‘February 3, 1897.
‘Indeed I am grieved; she has been a power for good, and has sent out some grand workers, and I shall miss her greatly. I am thankful I was with her at Christmas.
‘One feels sure “her works will follow her,” and He who gave her power will raise up others. It is, so far as one can see, too heavy a burden for Kate alone. Her memory will be a power, her life was so wonderfully guided, and one feels sure she has work to do beyond, for which the training of earth will have prepared her.’
To Miss Rowand, on the death of her mother:—
‘June 1901.‘It is grievous for you and those who loved that dear and noble, simple-minded woman, for her goodness gave unity to her life. Now the alabaster box is broken, only the fragrance of the life remains. She has been spared the living death such as I have seen, when the soul finds in the body a tomb. She is released and doubtless carries on ministries of love with your noble father and beloved brother.‘I have just seen Fräulein, whose only sister has just passed away.‘How little the sorrows of earth will seem to us as we look back, I think; even as many which even here issue in blessing. We realise that all things do indeed “work together for good to them that love God,” and I know that through this fresh sorrow the fire will burn up more and more of the earthly, so that the spirit may shine forth more brightly “to give light to all that are in the house.”—Yours with deep sympathy and affection.’
‘June 1901.
‘It is grievous for you and those who loved that dear and noble, simple-minded woman, for her goodness gave unity to her life. Now the alabaster box is broken, only the fragrance of the life remains. She has been spared the living death such as I have seen, when the soul finds in the body a tomb. She is released and doubtless carries on ministries of love with your noble father and beloved brother.
‘I have just seen Fräulein, whose only sister has just passed away.
‘How little the sorrows of earth will seem to us as we look back, I think; even as many which even here issue in blessing. We realise that all things do indeed “work together for good to them that love God,” and I know that through this fresh sorrow the fire will burn up more and more of the earthly, so that the spirit may shine forth more brightly “to give light to all that are in the house.”—Yours with deep sympathy and affection.’
To Miss Caines, just before her death:—
‘March 1901.‘My very dear Friend,—We can only pray now that if it be God’s will you may be spared to the many who love you, and to whom you have been a blessing during these many years of faithful service. But if the Master should come and call for you, then He will go with you through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. His Rod and Staff which stay your tottering steps will comfort you, and He will bring you forth to the light.‘We must say for you and for ourselves;—“Jesus, I trust Thee.” We do believe that what the world calls Death is birth into a brighter world.‘May we all meet again where sorrow and sighing are no more.—With much love, your very affectionate.’
‘March 1901.
‘My very dear Friend,—We can only pray now that if it be God’s will you may be spared to the many who love you, and to whom you have been a blessing during these many years of faithful service. But if the Master should come and call for you, then He will go with you through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. His Rod and Staff which stay your tottering steps will comfort you, and He will bring you forth to the light.
‘We must say for you and for ourselves;—“Jesus, I trust Thee.” We do believe that what the world calls Death is birth into a brighter world.
‘May we all meet again where sorrow and sighing are no more.—With much love, your very affectionate.’
To a friend, on the death of Miss Caines:—
‘This morning my dear friend passed away, full of peace and content to go. The children have been all that we could wish, full of sympathy, but quietly impressed and very sorrowful. We do not wish them to leave, but to learn to look calmly on death, and hopefully up to Him Who has taught His servants to triumph over death....‘The loss to me is more than I can say. God’s will be done.’
‘This morning my dear friend passed away, full of peace and content to go. The children have been all that we could wish, full of sympathy, but quietly impressed and very sorrowful. We do not wish them to leave, but to learn to look calmly on death, and hopefully up to Him Who has taught His servants to triumph over death....
‘The loss to me is more than I can say. God’s will be done.’
The next letter is to Mrs. Cooper,[105]a much-loved old pupil, who in 1902 lost a son, a promising young artist, and seven months later her husband through death:—
‘June 1903.‘I am sending you such a nice sermon by our good bishop, which I think you will like. I quite agree with you that one ought not to seek intercourse through mediums. I would never join the Psychical Society. It wasrightto enquire as these scientific men have done, but the inexperienced are almost sure to be taken in by such, and it seems to me that we ought not to try to draw aside the veil but wait until God’s herald bids us enter.‘I think you must expect to feel the sense of loss becoming greater, but then you will get to feel how short is the time of mourning on earth, and to ascend in heart and mind—and so to be above the storms and clouds of earth—even as the lark—and yet with him to hover over the earthly home, “that nest which you can drop into at will,—Those quivering limbs comprest.” You will want to speak to and help others with the comfort wherewith you are comforted of God....‘It is nice to look back on that time forty years ago. I remember your confessions to me then. Well, you have not been forsaken, nor left to beg your bread.’
‘June 1903.
‘I am sending you such a nice sermon by our good bishop, which I think you will like. I quite agree with you that one ought not to seek intercourse through mediums. I would never join the Psychical Society. It wasrightto enquire as these scientific men have done, but the inexperienced are almost sure to be taken in by such, and it seems to me that we ought not to try to draw aside the veil but wait until God’s herald bids us enter.
‘I think you must expect to feel the sense of loss becoming greater, but then you will get to feel how short is the time of mourning on earth, and to ascend in heart and mind—and so to be above the storms and clouds of earth—even as the lark—and yet with him to hover over the earthly home, “that nest which you can drop into at will,—Those quivering limbs comprest.” You will want to speak to and help others with the comfort wherewith you are comforted of God....
‘It is nice to look back on that time forty years ago. I remember your confessions to me then. Well, you have not been forsaken, nor left to beg your bread.’
To the same:—
‘October 1903.‘I have just heard of this fresh trouble. Surely you must be intended to do some work for others specially needing heart’s blood.—This paper was put into my hands just as I heard of your fresh disappointment and anxiety.’
‘October 1903.
‘I have just heard of this fresh trouble. Surely you must be intended to do some work for others specially needing heart’s blood.—This paper was put into my hands just as I heard of your fresh disappointment and anxiety.’
To the Misses Hibbert Ware, on the death of their sister:—
‘March 1905.‘Indeed one ought only to give thanks for her. I think of her looking down on us all at peace having escaped from the long enduring pain associated with this earthly body, and springing up like the lark into the larger heaven.‘Well, we must wait to understand these things which it has not entered into the heart of man to conceive in all their joyful reality, though in some measure they are revealed here to saintly souls which have been made partakers of Christ’s sufferings.’
‘March 1905.
‘Indeed one ought only to give thanks for her. I think of her looking down on us all at peace having escaped from the long enduring pain associated with this earthly body, and springing up like the lark into the larger heaven.
‘Well, we must wait to understand these things which it has not entered into the heart of man to conceive in all their joyful reality, though in some measure they are revealed here to saintly souls which have been made partakers of Christ’s sufferings.’
To Mrs. Mace, on the death of her husband:—
‘May 1906.‘Only to-day did I hear of the death of Mr. Mace.... It did seem grievous after his suffering with so much courage and hope the operation. One can only give thanks now that the soul has escaped from “the body of humiliation,” through which it has risen to the spiritual life. I don’t like the word resurrection, ἀνάστασις does not suggest that the soul has put on its old clothing, after being delivered from the body of corruption. You must be glad that he is free.’
‘May 1906.
‘Only to-day did I hear of the death of Mr. Mace.... It did seem grievous after his suffering with so much courage and hope the operation. One can only give thanks now that the soul has escaped from “the body of humiliation,” through which it has risen to the spiritual life. I don’t like the word resurrection, ἀνάστασις does not suggest that the soul has put on its old clothing, after being delivered from the body of corruption. You must be glad that he is free.’
Miss Beale wrote several letters, from which extracts are given, to Miss Belcher during her last illness.
The following was written after the Head-mistresses’ Conference on October 8 and 9 at Oxford in 1898:—
‘October 1898.‘My dear Friend,—I got home last night. Everybody was asking and thinking about you and missing you so much. I hoped for a line this morning; Susan will doubtless write to-day. I brought back Agnes Body for the Sunday here. The text in my birthday book for to-day is: “I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not.” I know this prayer is fulfilled for you. How I long to have some real talk with you now; but I think even in the body there is communion, and still more out of the body. It seems to me as if Miss Carter must be with you. Your love and care for her was returned in blessings on your own life, and through you on others. Miss Strong looks ill. She has been staying with her Bishop; that will strengthen her. That good Miss Day of Westminster was there, and sweet Mrs. Woodhouse of Sheffield.‘I feel sure the Conference will do good, there were so many good women there;—only we missedone.’
‘October 1898.
‘My dear Friend,—I got home last night. Everybody was asking and thinking about you and missing you so much. I hoped for a line this morning; Susan will doubtless write to-day. I brought back Agnes Body for the Sunday here. The text in my birthday book for to-day is: “I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not.” I know this prayer is fulfilled for you. How I long to have some real talk with you now; but I think even in the body there is communion, and still more out of the body. It seems to me as if Miss Carter must be with you. Your love and care for her was returned in blessings on your own life, and through you on others. Miss Strong looks ill. She has been staying with her Bishop; that will strengthen her. That good Miss Day of Westminster was there, and sweet Mrs. Woodhouse of Sheffield.
‘I feel sure the Conference will do good, there were so many good women there;—only we missedone.’
A day or two later she wrote:—
‘My very dear Friend,—I feel somewhat cheered by Susan’s letter to-night. Each morning I have so many enquiries, “Have you heard?” Susan is good in writing. Here are three letters from some staying at St. Hilda’s, where we were always thinking of you....‘Just two years on the 11th, since the Archbishop fell asleep.I wonder if he looks down at the school, and its first Head-mistress too. Shall we see and be able in some measure to “succour” those on earth? May the peace of God which passeth all understanding be with you.’
‘My very dear Friend,—I feel somewhat cheered by Susan’s letter to-night. Each morning I have so many enquiries, “Have you heard?” Susan is good in writing. Here are three letters from some staying at St. Hilda’s, where we were always thinking of you....
‘Just two years on the 11th, since the Archbishop fell asleep.I wonder if he looks down at the school, and its first Head-mistress too. Shall we see and be able in some measure to “succour” those on earth? May the peace of God which passeth all understanding be with you.’
The next alludes to a proposed visit of Miss Beale to Miss Belcher:—
‘St. Luke’s Day.‘Dear Friend,—I am so looking forward to Friday. I thought of you so much on this the Physician’s day, as we sang that beautiful hymn and Psalm xxx.; and our window told of the raising of the daughter by the Healer. My own life seems to me almost a resurrection, I must hope that you too may be raised up to do work on earth, ere you go to a higher sphere.’
‘St. Luke’s Day.
‘Dear Friend,—I am so looking forward to Friday. I thought of you so much on this the Physician’s day, as we sang that beautiful hymn and Psalm xxx.; and our window told of the raising of the daughter by the Healer. My own life seems to me almost a resurrection, I must hope that you too may be raised up to do work on earth, ere you go to a higher sphere.’
After this visit Miss Belcher wrote:—
‘My dear Friend,—The strength and comfort of your visit has been with me ever since, and far from its doing me any harm it has done me untold good. May God bless you for having imparted to me so richly of the “comfort wherewith you yourself have been comforted of God.” I do so trust you were not over-tired; hope to hear from some one to-morrow.‘Will you call me Marian in our private letters? I have never liked being only Miss Belcher, and since the close communion and rich gift of yesterday, I feel I should like it.’
‘My dear Friend,—The strength and comfort of your visit has been with me ever since, and far from its doing me any harm it has done me untold good. May God bless you for having imparted to me so richly of the “comfort wherewith you yourself have been comforted of God.” I do so trust you were not over-tired; hope to hear from some one to-morrow.
‘Will you call me Marian in our private letters? I have never liked being only Miss Belcher, and since the close communion and rich gift of yesterday, I feel I should like it.’
Miss Beale’s reply was:—
‘October 23, 1898.‘Dearest Marian,—It is good to hear that you were none the worse for my visit, and that our Lord put into my mouth some words of comfort. I shall hope to hear about Dr. Broadbent. I had a nice note from Susan. All here were so glad to get news of you direct....‘I wonder if you know Fechner’s little book; there is one chapter I like much, from which I am sending you some extracts.’
‘October 23, 1898.
‘Dearest Marian,—It is good to hear that you were none the worse for my visit, and that our Lord put into my mouth some words of comfort. I shall hope to hear about Dr. Broadbent. I had a nice note from Susan. All here were so glad to get news of you direct....
‘I wonder if you know Fechner’s little book; there is one chapter I like much, from which I am sending you some extracts.’
The next letter was written after an operation Miss Belcher had undergone:—
‘ ... I lingered this morning, and the postman brought me Susan’s cheerful letter, just as I was starting, and I was able to make the service specially a Eucharist on your account. Whata wonderful epistle; it is one to feed on. It tells how suffering strengthens the inner man, and enlarges one’s sympathies and makes us know the love of God. And the Gospel tells of renewed life after going down nearly to the grave. You and I can give thanks for both; may St. Paul’s wish be accomplished in us.’
‘ ... I lingered this morning, and the postman brought me Susan’s cheerful letter, just as I was starting, and I was able to make the service specially a Eucharist on your account. Whata wonderful epistle; it is one to feed on. It tells how suffering strengthens the inner man, and enlarges one’s sympathies and makes us know the love of God. And the Gospel tells of renewed life after going down nearly to the grave. You and I can give thanks for both; may St. Paul’s wish be accomplished in us.’
Miss Belcher replied:—
‘Sunday Evening.‘My dear Miss Beale,—My first few lines written by myself must be to you. All through last week the Epistle and your words about it have been such a help. It was just like one of your Scripture lessons every day all to myself. I am still going on so well, but of course it must take time, and I am not out of the wood. Still, as you said, all is well and will be well. Thank you so much for Lilla’s letter. I am so sorry she is not well, and Lucy Soulsby too. I am so rejoiced to hear you are so well and vigorous, and that College is overflowing. How wonderful it all is, and so inspiring.‘I had begun Archbishop Benson’sSt. Cyprianand your book before the operation, but have been too weak to read since. I hope to begin to-morrow. If you have read anything lately you think I should like, will you tell me the names? It must not be philosophy. I hope to have the best papers of the Church Congress read to me....’
‘Sunday Evening.
‘My dear Miss Beale,—My first few lines written by myself must be to you. All through last week the Epistle and your words about it have been such a help. It was just like one of your Scripture lessons every day all to myself. I am still going on so well, but of course it must take time, and I am not out of the wood. Still, as you said, all is well and will be well. Thank you so much for Lilla’s letter. I am so sorry she is not well, and Lucy Soulsby too. I am so rejoiced to hear you are so well and vigorous, and that College is overflowing. How wonderful it all is, and so inspiring.
‘I had begun Archbishop Benson’sSt. Cyprianand your book before the operation, but have been too weak to read since. I hope to begin to-morrow. If you have read anything lately you think I should like, will you tell me the names? It must not be philosophy. I hope to have the best papers of the Church Congress read to me....’
Shortly after this Miss Belcher wrote herself on an anticipated visit from another physician:—
‘My very dear Friend,— ... Dr. Robson of Leeds comes to-morrow. I know you will pray that the “right judgment” will be given. It is thought he will operate, but not certain. Please let Eliza and Susan Draper know. I cannot forget all I owe to you, my friend and guide, of so many years. We have a private celebration to-morrow at eight, but you will not get this in time to think of us.—Ever your loving and grateful friend,‘M. Belcher.‘You shall hear as soon as possible.’
‘My very dear Friend,— ... Dr. Robson of Leeds comes to-morrow. I know you will pray that the “right judgment” will be given. It is thought he will operate, but not certain. Please let Eliza and Susan Draper know. I cannot forget all I owe to you, my friend and guide, of so many years. We have a private celebration to-morrow at eight, but you will not get this in time to think of us.—Ever your loving and grateful friend,
‘M. Belcher.
‘You shall hear as soon as possible.’
‘Dearest Marian,—I have heard from Susan.... Of course we can’t understand, and we only know that all is well. I thought of you so much at prayers this morning. I read theLesson instead of the Epistle. “The souls of the righteous are in the hands of God, and there shall no torment touch them.” We missed your accustomed visit on the term holiday yesterday.’
‘Dearest Marian,—I have heard from Susan.... Of course we can’t understand, and we only know that all is well. I thought of you so much at prayers this morning. I read theLesson instead of the Epistle. “The souls of the righteous are in the hands of God, and there shall no torment touch them.” We missed your accustomed visit on the term holiday yesterday.’
‘First Sunday in Advent, 1898.‘My very dear Marian,—We were all so full of hope at first, and are much disappointed that relief has not come, but that you are still stretched upon the cross. “No chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous but grievous, yet at such times one can justthinkof the ‘Mystery of Pain,’ and realise that each sufferer does in uniting his will with God’s in some measure, ‘fill up that which is behind of the afflictions of Christ ... for His body’s sake.’” I think perhaps you may be suffering specially for one, that her faith may be once more awakened. Every sufferer thus “lifted up” does in a measure draw the hearts of others to Him through whom we are able to reveal the power of faith.... I said to Miss Drummond, “I dare say you would not have been spared any of the suffering”; she answered so heartily, “not one half-hour.” We see now what a wonderful work she did among the College boys, and it must be that your suffering is a part of the work God has given you to do for the school, and that you, too, will be enabled to say “not one half-hour,” when the darkness passes away, and the true light shines into the things of earth, and we know as we are known. I know that suffering soclaimsthe attention, but one can only know and believe, not feel it; but it is much to live by faith. Faith is the illuminating power through which alone we truly know. Was not Miss Carter’s suffering felt by you to be mediatorial too, and you are her successor. I shall try to spend a few days with Miss Martin at Christmas.‘To-day the Jairus window comes before me; the thought of the Lord sending away all those who pressed round the maiden, that she might know the advent of Him who is the Lord and Giver of life.’
‘First Sunday in Advent, 1898.
‘My very dear Marian,—We were all so full of hope at first, and are much disappointed that relief has not come, but that you are still stretched upon the cross. “No chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous but grievous, yet at such times one can justthinkof the ‘Mystery of Pain,’ and realise that each sufferer does in uniting his will with God’s in some measure, ‘fill up that which is behind of the afflictions of Christ ... for His body’s sake.’” I think perhaps you may be suffering specially for one, that her faith may be once more awakened. Every sufferer thus “lifted up” does in a measure draw the hearts of others to Him through whom we are able to reveal the power of faith.... I said to Miss Drummond, “I dare say you would not have been spared any of the suffering”; she answered so heartily, “not one half-hour.” We see now what a wonderful work she did among the College boys, and it must be that your suffering is a part of the work God has given you to do for the school, and that you, too, will be enabled to say “not one half-hour,” when the darkness passes away, and the true light shines into the things of earth, and we know as we are known. I know that suffering soclaimsthe attention, but one can only know and believe, not feel it; but it is much to live by faith. Faith is the illuminating power through which alone we truly know. Was not Miss Carter’s suffering felt by you to be mediatorial too, and you are her successor. I shall try to spend a few days with Miss Martin at Christmas.
‘To-day the Jairus window comes before me; the thought of the Lord sending away all those who pressed round the maiden, that she might know the advent of Him who is the Lord and Giver of life.’
The following is the last letter Miss Beale wrote to Miss Belcher:—
‘December 5, 1898.‘My very dear Friend,—I have tried to write several times, but tore up what I wrote. Susan is good in telling me about you, and at times my heart sinks, when I think of all you are suffering, though there do seem to me to be some hopefulsigns.... Well, we ought not, I suppose, to wish, we are so sure that “in all our afflictions He is afflicted,” and “the angel of His presence saves us,” and makes our souls strong to bear and our “light affliction is but for a moment.”‘I dare say this term has seemed to you unending. I think when the strain of thinking about school is taken off, you will feel stronger. I hope to go to Kilburn from January 5 to the 9th; there we shall think much about you. I am just writing about St. Hilda’s East.... Things seem going on well, I think I shall stay there after the Retreat, and try to get more into touch.’
‘December 5, 1898.
‘My very dear Friend,—I have tried to write several times, but tore up what I wrote. Susan is good in telling me about you, and at times my heart sinks, when I think of all you are suffering, though there do seem to me to be some hopefulsigns.... Well, we ought not, I suppose, to wish, we are so sure that “in all our afflictions He is afflicted,” and “the angel of His presence saves us,” and makes our souls strong to bear and our “light affliction is but for a moment.”
‘I dare say this term has seemed to you unending. I think when the strain of thinking about school is taken off, you will feel stronger. I hope to go to Kilburn from January 5 to the 9th; there we shall think much about you. I am just writing about St. Hilda’s East.... Things seem going on well, I think I shall stay there after the Retreat, and try to get more into touch.’
Enclosed in this letter were some verses from Ken’s ‘Midnight Hymn,’ with the words, ‘I thought you might like this if awake at night.’
After Miss Belcher’s death on December 15, 1898, Miss Beale wrote to Miss Strong: ‘Three of my noble-hearted friends gone so lately—Miss Buss, Miss Clarke, and Marian Belcher. The road to the Dark Tower gets lonely, but we look beyond.’
A few letters on general subjects are given. The first of these was written to Miss Susan Wood, in 1897, in reply to an inquiry about women teachers:—
‘I should not like to say I would have none but women teachers. I consider a combination good, better than either men or women only. Still, if a woman is equal in knowledge and ability, I consider she generally teaches better than a man. If all women are ultimately forced to go to the University, the higher teaching will be taken out of their hands, or else women will teach there.’
‘I should not like to say I would have none but women teachers. I consider a combination good, better than either men or women only. Still, if a woman is equal in knowledge and ability, I consider she generally teaches better than a man. If all women are ultimately forced to go to the University, the higher teaching will be taken out of their hands, or else women will teach there.’
The following extract, from a letter to Miss Sturge in October 1902, deals with the developments of the College:—
‘The numbers enable us to have an aggregate of schools and to have virtually about seven who might have and ought—Headships elsewhere, had they not an independent sphere of their own.‘Lastly, are you right in saying that an inspiring personalitycan be taken away? The inspiration is not from any person who can pass away; we are but the earthen vessels; the light persists and is given just so long as it is needed, to any one who has to give light. The inspiration for the Headship will be given to my successor in turn....‘I do hope God may allow me to go on longer, and it is a comfort to feel that you are glad I should.‘As regards the growing size of the College. I may add in addition to what I have said, that I have never wished independently to add to the size merely, and that in each development I have felt I was obliged to go on, though often I dreaded it;e.g.the training of teachers could not be refused when Miss Newman offered. Then the Kindergarten grew up, and the elementary teachers was really forced on one. It is unprofitable in money (the Elementary School Department), and a great strain on me, but I feel we have to do this special work. In fact, it is not our work, but we are set here by the great Captain, and I trust we are taking our share in advancing somewhat the kingdom of truth and righteousness. I cannot see that in this erection of buildings, or in any other way, we are acting from self, but under direction. I have not yet read the comments on the buildings, but wanted to reply to the letter at once.’
‘The numbers enable us to have an aggregate of schools and to have virtually about seven who might have and ought—Headships elsewhere, had they not an independent sphere of their own.
‘Lastly, are you right in saying that an inspiring personalitycan be taken away? The inspiration is not from any person who can pass away; we are but the earthen vessels; the light persists and is given just so long as it is needed, to any one who has to give light. The inspiration for the Headship will be given to my successor in turn....
‘I do hope God may allow me to go on longer, and it is a comfort to feel that you are glad I should.
‘As regards the growing size of the College. I may add in addition to what I have said, that I have never wished independently to add to the size merely, and that in each development I have felt I was obliged to go on, though often I dreaded it;e.g.the training of teachers could not be refused when Miss Newman offered. Then the Kindergarten grew up, and the elementary teachers was really forced on one. It is unprofitable in money (the Elementary School Department), and a great strain on me, but I feel we have to do this special work. In fact, it is not our work, but we are set here by the great Captain, and I trust we are taking our share in advancing somewhat the kingdom of truth and righteousness. I cannot see that in this erection of buildings, or in any other way, we are acting from self, but under direction. I have not yet read the comments on the buildings, but wanted to reply to the letter at once.’
The following was written to Bishop Fraser of Manchester, who had publicly referred with approbation to the saying of Thucydides, that ‘that woman was most to be admired who was least spoken of whether for good or evil’:—
‘December 1878.‘My Lord,—We owe to you so much for education work that I cannot but feel sorry you should by your recent quotation from Thucydides place before women a standard lower than the highest. I felt bound to protest against it, when a few days later I read a paper before the Social Science Congress in my own schoolroom.‘Will the excuse be received from us: “I was afraid of being spoken of for good, and so I hid my talent in a napkin?” Must we not expect that our work will be measured, as was that of another woman by the words, “She hath done what she could?” I venture to enclose a few lines from an article of mine, signed “A Utopian,” in a Fraser[106]of 1866. It wasprovoked by the same quotation from Thucydides in aQuarterlyof that year.—I am, my Lord, yours with sincere respect and esteem,D. Beale.’
‘December 1878.
‘My Lord,—We owe to you so much for education work that I cannot but feel sorry you should by your recent quotation from Thucydides place before women a standard lower than the highest. I felt bound to protest against it, when a few days later I read a paper before the Social Science Congress in my own schoolroom.
‘Will the excuse be received from us: “I was afraid of being spoken of for good, and so I hid my talent in a napkin?” Must we not expect that our work will be measured, as was that of another woman by the words, “She hath done what she could?” I venture to enclose a few lines from an article of mine, signed “A Utopian,” in a Fraser[106]of 1866. It wasprovoked by the same quotation from Thucydides in aQuarterlyof that year.—I am, my Lord, yours with sincere respect and esteem,
D. Beale.’
To Mrs. Ashley Smith, at that date Miss Lucy Hall, a relation of Bishop Fraser’s, on the same subject:—
‘December 12, 1878.‘Dear Lucy,—I was glad to hear you thought you could be of use in the Board School. Could you not teach the boys some mathematics? If you could, I will send you an amusing book about Euclid.‘I have asked Miss Gore to send you a copy of what I wrote to the Bishop. I think he should have got his secretary just to send me a line. I did not do it in a perky spirit, but I felt bound to protest, and having protested, I thought I should rather say to him, why. Many women do leave undone the things they ought to do, because they shrink from coming forward. I have done so myself. If he would preach that we should do what we ought in God’s sight, and never trouble our heads about what people say, when our conscience speaks, it would be better. Perhaps he will think twice before he again quotes that, and if so, I shall be satisfied. I would not care, if he were not so good and clever that people listen to what he says. He is, too, not conventional, yet he says what may promote a wrong kind of conventionality. I have since seen such a nice bit of a sermon about the idle lives that women lead; so if you do see him, I should like you to ask him about this too.‘You must let me know when you really get to work as manager.’
‘December 12, 1878.
‘Dear Lucy,—I was glad to hear you thought you could be of use in the Board School. Could you not teach the boys some mathematics? If you could, I will send you an amusing book about Euclid.
‘I have asked Miss Gore to send you a copy of what I wrote to the Bishop. I think he should have got his secretary just to send me a line. I did not do it in a perky spirit, but I felt bound to protest, and having protested, I thought I should rather say to him, why. Many women do leave undone the things they ought to do, because they shrink from coming forward. I have done so myself. If he would preach that we should do what we ought in God’s sight, and never trouble our heads about what people say, when our conscience speaks, it would be better. Perhaps he will think twice before he again quotes that, and if so, I shall be satisfied. I would not care, if he were not so good and clever that people listen to what he says. He is, too, not conventional, yet he says what may promote a wrong kind of conventionality. I have since seen such a nice bit of a sermon about the idle lives that women lead; so if you do see him, I should like you to ask him about this too.
‘You must let me know when you really get to work as manager.’
To Miss Laurie, after readingPasteur’s Life:—
‘1902.‘I want to have a general conference about organising our Science work better; we are using razors for stone-cutting. I should like a great deal of the correcting taken from the “Professoriate,” and young specialists entrusted with work under superintendence. Talk with M. Reid and A. Johnson. We ought to let our superior minds “expatiate,” and let me have a few notes, as I can’t talk much now. We might bring up a body of inspirers as well as workers. Pasteur’s life has specially excited me to ask what more we could do. The teachers ought to read more of the lives of discoverers,e.g.Lodge (though that is too slight,History of Matter, etc. etc.).‘If there are disadvantages in the London changes, at least I hope we shall get more liberty; let us try to find “a soul of goodness in things evil.”‘What a beautiful character is Pasteur’s. I find it quite a Sunday book.’
‘1902.
‘I want to have a general conference about organising our Science work better; we are using razors for stone-cutting. I should like a great deal of the correcting taken from the “Professoriate,” and young specialists entrusted with work under superintendence. Talk with M. Reid and A. Johnson. We ought to let our superior minds “expatiate,” and let me have a few notes, as I can’t talk much now. We might bring up a body of inspirers as well as workers. Pasteur’s life has specially excited me to ask what more we could do. The teachers ought to read more of the lives of discoverers,e.g.Lodge (though that is too slight,History of Matter, etc. etc.).
‘If there are disadvantages in the London changes, at least I hope we shall get more liberty; let us try to find “a soul of goodness in things evil.”
‘What a beautiful character is Pasteur’s. I find it quite a Sunday book.’
To Miss Nixon, on Henry George’sProgress and Poverty:—
‘April 1884.‘I am sorry to have given you pain, but I do hope you will read the writings of those who understand political economy better than we do. I think if you had read about the evils which preceded the abolition of the old Poor Law, you would have seen why I cannot approve Mr. George’s plans, and not thought that I desire less than you do that these miseries of the people should be lessened. It is so important for us teachers to try to get right views about history; to pray by our acts that we may have “a right judgment in all things.”‘It is more pathetic than anything to see people led by false hopes to follow wandering fires to their destruction; and such, I am sure, are some of the new lights. The history of the Crusades and the French Revolution ought not to have been written in vain for us. There are three articles that I think you ought to read,—the Duke of Argyle’s, Mr. Herbert Spencer’s, and Mr. Brodrick’s, in the lastNineteenth CenturyandContemporary.‘Reforms Iearnestlydesire on laws of succession, land transfer, etc. etc., but I am sure that no external bettering of conditions can do good without this is the outcome of right principles, and that people can be raised only by raising the moral standard of all. Perhaps we may have time to talk some day.
‘April 1884.
‘I am sorry to have given you pain, but I do hope you will read the writings of those who understand political economy better than we do. I think if you had read about the evils which preceded the abolition of the old Poor Law, you would have seen why I cannot approve Mr. George’s plans, and not thought that I desire less than you do that these miseries of the people should be lessened. It is so important for us teachers to try to get right views about history; to pray by our acts that we may have “a right judgment in all things.”
‘It is more pathetic than anything to see people led by false hopes to follow wandering fires to their destruction; and such, I am sure, are some of the new lights. The history of the Crusades and the French Revolution ought not to have been written in vain for us. There are three articles that I think you ought to read,—the Duke of Argyle’s, Mr. Herbert Spencer’s, and Mr. Brodrick’s, in the lastNineteenth CenturyandContemporary.
‘Reforms Iearnestlydesire on laws of succession, land transfer, etc. etc., but I am sure that no external bettering of conditions can do good without this is the outcome of right principles, and that people can be raised only by raising the moral standard of all. Perhaps we may have time to talk some day.
To Mr. Coates after a lecture he had given at Cheltenham:—
‘July 1888.‘Dear Mr. Coates,— ... What I especially regretted was that the lecture raised a number of questions to which it furnished no answers, but seemed to me to suggest erroneous ones; words were used which were not defined.‘(1) Persecution; (2) Official dignity; (3) Rights of the individual in relation to the community.‘(1) Now as regards persecution, you said people could not, ifthey were in earnest, help persecuting. That was equivalent to the assertion that persecution was right; but you did not say what you understood by persecution. Everything depends on that to girls accustomed to associate persecution with bodily torture. I think what you said would suggest wrong ideas. I can’t agree with your general proposition, but of course I may be wrong.‘(2) “A Dog in Office” is to me a different being from one who has not been appointed to the charge. He feels it, and I feel it. He respects himself more, and by his “investiture,” though it be only by a costermonger, he becomes capable of acts of which he would otherwise have been incapable, and his bearing, in combination with his legitimate title derived from the owner of the barrow, obtains recognition from all the street curs.‘I may, of course, be superstitious, but I do regard a consecrated king, a President elected deliberately by a great nation, a man solemnly set apart to serve a church, as in some sense different from others. It seems to me that this is a matter of some importance in these days, when the sacredness of human relationships is called in question. I think we teachers cannot feel too strongly the duty of doing for thought what the feudal lords did for material forces in erecting bulwarks or breakwaters against the floods of undisciplined opinions in question, passion clothed in rags of thought. We want, like the old alchemists, to make the indeterminate clouds of smoke like actual forms.‘I do not think you and I really differ, but I suppose the fact of my having a little kingdom has aggravated my sense of responsibility, and I can’t help always regarding teaching as purposeful. I hold in abhorrence the maxim “Art for Art’s sake.” Ialwayswant it to have a purifying influence on the character. I believe you do the same, only you are afraid of “preaching.”‘You will be saying, “I wish some one else shared my aversion,” so I will spare you No. 3. I hope you will not misunderstand me.’
‘July 1888.
‘Dear Mr. Coates,— ... What I especially regretted was that the lecture raised a number of questions to which it furnished no answers, but seemed to me to suggest erroneous ones; words were used which were not defined.
‘(1) Persecution; (2) Official dignity; (3) Rights of the individual in relation to the community.
‘(1) Now as regards persecution, you said people could not, ifthey were in earnest, help persecuting. That was equivalent to the assertion that persecution was right; but you did not say what you understood by persecution. Everything depends on that to girls accustomed to associate persecution with bodily torture. I think what you said would suggest wrong ideas. I can’t agree with your general proposition, but of course I may be wrong.
‘(2) “A Dog in Office” is to me a different being from one who has not been appointed to the charge. He feels it, and I feel it. He respects himself more, and by his “investiture,” though it be only by a costermonger, he becomes capable of acts of which he would otherwise have been incapable, and his bearing, in combination with his legitimate title derived from the owner of the barrow, obtains recognition from all the street curs.
‘I may, of course, be superstitious, but I do regard a consecrated king, a President elected deliberately by a great nation, a man solemnly set apart to serve a church, as in some sense different from others. It seems to me that this is a matter of some importance in these days, when the sacredness of human relationships is called in question. I think we teachers cannot feel too strongly the duty of doing for thought what the feudal lords did for material forces in erecting bulwarks or breakwaters against the floods of undisciplined opinions in question, passion clothed in rags of thought. We want, like the old alchemists, to make the indeterminate clouds of smoke like actual forms.
‘I do not think you and I really differ, but I suppose the fact of my having a little kingdom has aggravated my sense of responsibility, and I can’t help always regarding teaching as purposeful. I hold in abhorrence the maxim “Art for Art’s sake.” Ialwayswant it to have a purifying influence on the character. I believe you do the same, only you are afraid of “preaching.”
‘You will be saying, “I wish some one else shared my aversion,” so I will spare you No. 3. I hope you will not misunderstand me.’
To Mrs. Rix:—
‘January 1891.‘It is always an anxious thing when people of different nations marry....‘I hope your good husband will not desert his post. I feel sure these scientific things were given us to prevent our feeling crushed by the weight of the “unintelligible world” of philosophy, and the atonement of science and philosophy is the workof our age—through nature we have to go to find the spiritual Christ. Poor Mr. Lant Carpenter. I wonder if it was the Sphinx who killed him.’
‘January 1891.
‘It is always an anxious thing when people of different nations marry....
‘I hope your good husband will not desert his post. I feel sure these scientific things were given us to prevent our feeling crushed by the weight of the “unintelligible world” of philosophy, and the atonement of science and philosophy is the workof our age—through nature we have to go to find the spiritual Christ. Poor Mr. Lant Carpenter. I wonder if it was the Sphinx who killed him.’
To Sir Joshua Fitch, after the death of Miss Buss:—
‘July (?) 1897.‘I have been thinking what I could write to you about Miss Buss. I don’t think I could send you anything that would help in an article, or say much more than I have in the Guardian. I am spoken of as her life-long friend, but I did not know her until long after I came to Cheltenham, a little before you joined our Council. It is said in many papers that I attended with her the evening classes at Queen’s College. I never did. She assisted at the evolution which transformed our governing body from a local Committee to what it is now, and by getting an enlarged Council we were saved from dying of atrophy....‘From that time we were intimately associated in educational movements, and I ever felt that she was utterly to be trusted never to think,—much less to do anything but what was true, straightforward, unselfish. She was deeply, unostentatiously religious, lived in the spirit of prayer, and had the love of God in its twofold sense ever guiding her thought and actions. Often have we knelt together, at her request, the last thing at night and said together the Veni Creator.‘If I spoke the other day of troubles with the governing bodies—it was not from anything definite that she said to me; but she has often, to allay my impatience, repeated what one of her Governors said: “Do you think we come here to register your decrees?” She received it as a deserved reproof, though, of course, she must have known what was best for the school, and never desired her selfish good,—only that of the School.‘The large view she took of the general outlook for the growing up teachers struck me much. The provision for the future, the opening of new occupations, the health and bodily development. Her gymnasium, I think, she herself built and gave to the school.... She had a lady doctor to examine the girls, weigh them, etc., etc.‘The formation of the Head-mistresses’ Association was entirely due to her. The first meeting, and, I think, the second was held at Myra Lodge. She was very anxious about the “Teachers’ Guild.”‘I sat with her on the Council of the Church Schools’ Company, and was surprised at the amount of time and thought shegave to it. With such solicitude she used to say, “My dear, we must help these young Head-mistresses.” Whenever any school-mistress got into difficulties she was of such sympathy and help.‘Then she tried so much to help her old girls, to promote the love of reading in her staff, to call out their helpfulness in many ways. That exhibition of things made that cost nothing, was a very original idea, and taught economy by an object lesson....‘The ways in which she used to help poor girls were hardly known to any one; clothes she used to get sent to them, and she had friends to whom she could mention cases where money help was needed and get it. Then she was not one to give up because she could not influence people by what werefor herthe highest motives; but appealed to the bestin them, would give ethics when she could not give religion, and when she spoke of wrong, it was with a sorrow which covered the indignation.‘There was a real solicitude, in spite of her many occupations, to help all teachers. She would get books to send round to other schools to help them, and never seemed to think of any being rivals, but rather fellow-workers.‘But you must know most of what I am saying, for you knew her well, and she specially loved your wife. I am only writing what comes to my mind to do what I can; but you see I have so few definite facts, and I knew her only when she was full-grown in character and her work established.‘I think, having a Boarding House as well as a School was a mistake, and she felt it so at last. It was impossible for her to attend to it much herself; and I think she should not have rushed off on foreign tours at Christmas.‘Finally, perhaps, I may say that she was, it seemed to me, always pained and surprised at wrong in others, and expectant of good, and able to see the latent good underlying the apparent evil. She had the charity that hopeth all things.‘Her generosity in money matters was very great, especially to her family. She used to speak with such joy and pride of the battles her brother fought in Shoreditch, and her brave sister-in-law, and great was her affection for her nephew.‘Forgive my incoherence please, and take the will for the deed.’
‘July (?) 1897.
‘I have been thinking what I could write to you about Miss Buss. I don’t think I could send you anything that would help in an article, or say much more than I have in the Guardian. I am spoken of as her life-long friend, but I did not know her until long after I came to Cheltenham, a little before you joined our Council. It is said in many papers that I attended with her the evening classes at Queen’s College. I never did. She assisted at the evolution which transformed our governing body from a local Committee to what it is now, and by getting an enlarged Council we were saved from dying of atrophy....
‘From that time we were intimately associated in educational movements, and I ever felt that she was utterly to be trusted never to think,—much less to do anything but what was true, straightforward, unselfish. She was deeply, unostentatiously religious, lived in the spirit of prayer, and had the love of God in its twofold sense ever guiding her thought and actions. Often have we knelt together, at her request, the last thing at night and said together the Veni Creator.
‘If I spoke the other day of troubles with the governing bodies—it was not from anything definite that she said to me; but she has often, to allay my impatience, repeated what one of her Governors said: “Do you think we come here to register your decrees?” She received it as a deserved reproof, though, of course, she must have known what was best for the school, and never desired her selfish good,—only that of the School.
‘The large view she took of the general outlook for the growing up teachers struck me much. The provision for the future, the opening of new occupations, the health and bodily development. Her gymnasium, I think, she herself built and gave to the school.... She had a lady doctor to examine the girls, weigh them, etc., etc.
‘The formation of the Head-mistresses’ Association was entirely due to her. The first meeting, and, I think, the second was held at Myra Lodge. She was very anxious about the “Teachers’ Guild.”
‘I sat with her on the Council of the Church Schools’ Company, and was surprised at the amount of time and thought shegave to it. With such solicitude she used to say, “My dear, we must help these young Head-mistresses.” Whenever any school-mistress got into difficulties she was of such sympathy and help.
‘Then she tried so much to help her old girls, to promote the love of reading in her staff, to call out their helpfulness in many ways. That exhibition of things made that cost nothing, was a very original idea, and taught economy by an object lesson....
‘The ways in which she used to help poor girls were hardly known to any one; clothes she used to get sent to them, and she had friends to whom she could mention cases where money help was needed and get it. Then she was not one to give up because she could not influence people by what werefor herthe highest motives; but appealed to the bestin them, would give ethics when she could not give religion, and when she spoke of wrong, it was with a sorrow which covered the indignation.
‘There was a real solicitude, in spite of her many occupations, to help all teachers. She would get books to send round to other schools to help them, and never seemed to think of any being rivals, but rather fellow-workers.
‘But you must know most of what I am saying, for you knew her well, and she specially loved your wife. I am only writing what comes to my mind to do what I can; but you see I have so few definite facts, and I knew her only when she was full-grown in character and her work established.
‘I think, having a Boarding House as well as a School was a mistake, and she felt it so at last. It was impossible for her to attend to it much herself; and I think she should not have rushed off on foreign tours at Christmas.
‘Finally, perhaps, I may say that she was, it seemed to me, always pained and surprised at wrong in others, and expectant of good, and able to see the latent good underlying the apparent evil. She had the charity that hopeth all things.
‘Her generosity in money matters was very great, especially to her family. She used to speak with such joy and pride of the battles her brother fought in Shoreditch, and her brave sister-in-law, and great was her affection for her nephew.
‘Forgive my incoherence please, and take the will for the deed.’
Miss Beale wrote but little about herself, but in her correspondence with an intimate friend, she wouldgive glimpses of her own personal life, even of her doings, as well as of her thought and reading. Her letters to Miss Amy Giles are the most interesting from this point of view, covering as they do the last period of her life. Some extracts from these are given:—
‘July 6, 1897.‘Dear Amy,—I wonder what you will do now that you have quite lost your beloved mother. I was talking with Miss Sewell about you, and said I wished you could come and spend a week here.... If you came the week after next, perhaps you would like to stay for our Quiet Days at the end.’
‘July 6, 1897.
‘Dear Amy,—I wonder what you will do now that you have quite lost your beloved mother. I was talking with Miss Sewell about you, and said I wished you could come and spend a week here.... If you came the week after next, perhaps you would like to stay for our Quiet Days at the end.’
To the same:—
‘August 15, 1897.‘I have kept your letter so long, hoping I might see my way to pay you a visit, which I should so very much like to do, but I am afraid the prospect is a diminishing one. It was a great pleasure to renew my acquaintance with one whom I had loved as a pupil, and to find we had grown even nearer during the intervening years. It would, too, be a pleasure to see Miss Sewell, for whom I have so great an admiration. I will not altogether give up hopes, but I am much afraid it will be impossible. The work for Longmans is to fill two hundred pages. I get ordinarily a hundred and fifty letters a week on College business, and now that we are beginning this Elementary work, there is a Head to be found, prospectuses to be drawn up, the Education Office to be consulted, etc., and also the Magazine to be edited, and some few people I must see....‘There are many things one has to deny one’s self “for the work’s sake,” but it is worth while. I cannot be too thankful for being allowed to do it.’
‘August 15, 1897.
‘I have kept your letter so long, hoping I might see my way to pay you a visit, which I should so very much like to do, but I am afraid the prospect is a diminishing one. It was a great pleasure to renew my acquaintance with one whom I had loved as a pupil, and to find we had grown even nearer during the intervening years. It would, too, be a pleasure to see Miss Sewell, for whom I have so great an admiration. I will not altogether give up hopes, but I am much afraid it will be impossible. The work for Longmans is to fill two hundred pages. I get ordinarily a hundred and fifty letters a week on College business, and now that we are beginning this Elementary work, there is a Head to be found, prospectuses to be drawn up, the Education Office to be consulted, etc., and also the Magazine to be edited, and some few people I must see....
‘There are many things one has to deny one’s self “for the work’s sake,” but it is worth while. I cannot be too thankful for being allowed to do it.’
To the same:—
‘August 25, 1898.‘My sister has come home on purpose, and I am spending a week with her on the hills; my niece helping to copy the MS.’
‘August 25, 1898.
‘My sister has come home on purpose, and I am spending a week with her on the hills; my niece helping to copy the MS.’
In the summer holidays of 1898 Miss Beale stayed with Miss Giles at Bonchurch. They afterwards visited Marlborough College and Savernake Forest together,parting at Marlborough station. Miss Beale wrote after this to Miss Giles:—
‘August 28, 1898.‘I will own that after you were gone all things seemed colder.... The doctor thought me wonderfully well, and my ears much better than usual after so long an absence. He says I can go to-morrow, and highly approves of cycling if I can do it.... May the spiritual sun ever rise for you, my dear child, more and more until the perfect day.’
‘August 28, 1898.
‘I will own that after you were gone all things seemed colder.... The doctor thought me wonderfully well, and my ears much better than usual after so long an absence. He says I can go to-morrow, and highly approves of cycling if I can do it.... May the spiritual sun ever rise for you, my dear child, more and more until the perfect day.’
To the same:—
‘September 7, 1898.‘I had some bicycle lessons at Woodchester, but all united in recommending tricycling instead for me.’
‘September 7, 1898.
‘I had some bicycle lessons at Woodchester, but all united in recommending tricycling instead for me.’
To the same:—