The Project Gutenberg eBook of Dorothea Beale: Principal of the Cheltenham Ladies' College, 1858-1906

This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

Title: Dorothea Beale: Principal of the Cheltenham Ladies' College, 1858-1906

Author: Elizabeth Helen Shillito

Release date: December 21, 2022 [eBook #69599]

Most recently updated: October 19, 2024

Language: English

Original publication: United States: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 1920

Credits: MWS and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DOROTHEA BEALE: PRINCIPAL OF THE CHELTENHAM LADIES' COLLEGE, 1858-1906 ***

DOROTHEA BEALE

FROM A PAINTING BY J. J. SHANNON

Frontispiece

PIONEERS OF PROGRESS

WOMEN

EDITED BY ETHEL M. BARTON

DOROTHEA BEALE

PRINCIPAL OF THE CHELTENHAM LADIES’ COLLEGE

1858-1906

WITH TWO PORTRAITS

BY

ELIZABETH H. SHILLITO, B.A. (LOND.)

LONDON

SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE

NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

1920

“Some there are who go forth to their own life-work with the holy hands of the dead who live laid on their hearts, who feel that they have a debt to repay, who see a ray of life from afar cast upon all they do, and bear about for ever a light within, which they must pass on for the sake of the dead who live.”

EDWARD THRING.

Great Souls who sail uncharted seas,

Battling with hostile winds and tide,—

Strong hands that forged forbidden keys,

And left the door behind them wide.

Diggers for gold where most had failed,

Smiling at deeds that brought them Fame,—

Lighters of lamps that have not failed—

Lend us your oil, and share your flame.

TO

DR. ELSIE MAUD INGLIS

WHOSE CRIMEA WAS SERBIA,

BUT WHOSE POST-WAR WORK

IS IN ANOTHER WORLD

SYNOPSIS OF CHAPTERS.

PAGE

CHAPTER I.

Discoveries and enterprises of the Nineteenth Century—Effect on the educational world—Girls’ education in age of Elizabeth and in Nineteenth Century—Protests against the latter—Pioneers of higher education—Our indebtedness to them

1

CHAPTER II.

Dorothea Beale—Parentage—Mrs. Cornwallis and her daughter—Their influence on Dorothea Beale—Home life—Early education—School life—Time of self-education—Attitude to games—Reading in early life—Euclid—School in France—Some personal characteristics—Religious and other influences of home

4

CHAPTER III.

History of Queen’s College—Early students—Rev. F. D. Maurice—His opening address—Dorothea Beale’s attitude to teaching—Study and friendship at Queen’s College—Appointment there—Difficulties—Resignation—Impetuosity of nature—Some inherent difficulties of women’s life

10

CHAPTER IV.

Clergy Daughters’ School at Casterton—Hasty acceptance of post there—Beautiful situation of school—Evils—Personal difficulties—Mr. Beale’s letters—Dorothea Beale’s dress and appearance—Thoughts of resignation—Father’s advice—Appeal to committee—Suspicions of High Church tendencies—Determination to resign—Notice from committee—Acknowledged indebtedness to the school—Appreciation—Work at home—History of England begun—Spartan habits—Some philanthropic work—Offer of service—Dawning conviction of real vocation—Her diary begun—Extracts—Time of waiting—Religious life and beliefs

16

CHAPTER V.

Cheltenham Ladies’ College—Early history—The first Principals—Advertisement for new Principal—Dorothea Beale candidate—Tributes to character and ability—Alleged High Church tendencies—Declaration of belief—Time of anxiety—Appointment as Principal—Work at Ladies’ College—Personal appearance at this time—Rule of silence—Precarious financial position of school—Practice of economy—Question of renewing lease of Cambray House—Mr. Brancker—His wise policy and administration—Some reminiscences—The Fight against ignorance and prejudice—Dorothea Beale’s inspiring leadership

27

CHAPTER VI.

Blue Book Report on condition of girls’ education—Dorothea Beale’s evidence and theories with regard to women as teachers; effects of higher education on health; idleness and health; the teaching of music—Modern ideas on the teaching of this subject

38

CHAPTER VII.

Rearrangement of school hours at the Ladies’ College—Opposition met and overcome—Gradual breaking down of prejudice—Gossip and disloyalty—Dorothea Beale’s gift of inspiring loyalty—Miss Belcher—Death of Dorothea Beale’s father—How she spent holidays—Singleness of aim—Idea of Sisterhood of Teachers—Expansion of Cheltenham College—Opposition to a new building—Dr. Jex Blake’s plea—Farewell to Cambray House—Continued growth—College incorporated under Companies’ Acts—Boarding houses made an intrinsic part of College—Defining of Principal’s powers—Cambray House again

43

CHAPTER VIII.

Cheltenham College magazine started—Dorothea Beale, editor—Her “silver wedding”—“Old Girls’” Gift—Scheme of Guild put forward and carried out—Emblem—Opening address—Dorothea Beale’s remembrance of former pupils—Miss Newman’s work—Continued after her death—St. Hilda’s, Oxford—St. Hilda’s, East London—Dorothea Beale’s attitude to charitable enterprises

51

CHAPTER IX.

A time of darkness—Effect on outlook and character—Some general interests—Freshness of outlook—Pundita Ramabai—Interest in Indian widows—Women policemen—Balfour’s Education Act, 1902—Attitude to prizes—John Ruskin and the Ladies’ College—Paris Exhibitions—Another Royal Commission on Education—Visits of Empress Frederick and Princess Henry of Battenberg to College—Epidemic of smallpox—Dorothea Beale and vaccination—Personal honours—Officier d’Académie Française, Tutor in Letters of Durham University, Corresponding member of National Education Association, U.S.A., Freedom of Borough of Cheltenham, LL.D. Edinburgh—Robes presented by staff—Three weeks’ tour—A brief interval of ill-health—Story of the Shannon portrait—College Jubilee celebrations

58

CHAPTER X.

Greatness of personality—Varied gifts—Prodigious power of work—Great organising capacity—Organisation of the Ladies’ College—Advice to teachers—Her sense of humour—The tricycle learnt at 67—Her extreme sensitiveness—Power of sympathy—Her outlook that of a religious poet—Her Scripture lessons—Her views on marriage—Tribute of the Bishop of Stepney

70

CHAPTER XI.

Signs of the end—The last Guild meeting—The last term—A journey to London—The doctor’s verdict—Operation—Waiting the call—A morning of suspense—Laid to rest—Tributes to her character and work

75

CHAPTER XII.

The modern world—The need of work—Power of education—Supreme importance of home training—Responsibility of parents—Teaching as a vocation—Personal fitness—Different kinds of teaching—Elementary schools—Boarding schools—Demands of the work—Its joys and advantages—The need of devoted teachers

79

PREFACE.

I should like to acknowledge my indebtedness to all who have helped me in the writing of this short biography: especially to Mrs. Raikes for her kind permission to use her “Life of Dorothea Beale of Cheltenham,” without which this book could not have been written; also for her most generous help in many difficulties: and to Messrs. Constable, the publishers, for their kind consent. It is impossible to name all who have so willingly helped me, but I should like to mention Miss A. M. Andrews of Cheltenham; Lieut-Colonel J. F. Tarrant for his help in many ways; Mr. J. J. Shannon for kindly allowing a reproduction of Miss Beale’s portrait; Messrs. Martyn of Cheltenham for their photograph; “The Times,” Messrs. Macmillan, and other publishers, who have permitted me to quote extracts from works which are still copyright.

E. H. S.

CHAPTER I.

INTRODUCTORY.

“Tho’ they to-day are passed

They marched in that procession where is no first or last.”

—AUSTIN DOBSON.

The story of the nineteenth century is one of wonder: a story with Romance written large on every page. It is a tale of great discovery and enterprise in almost every sphere. Under the influence of its discoveries, material life became transformed and new mental and spiritual horizons appeared. The newly-acquired knowledge of forces like steam and electricity opened up to the world undreamed-of possibilities. Scientists at home and in distant places of the earth discovered truths that did much to reveal God’s ways to men. In the world of medicine new theories were applied to take from operations their dread, and fatality from many diseases. In literature it was a time of great riches: an age equal to any, not excepting the great Elizabethan; an age of prophets and seers, of men and women expressing in singleness of heart the truth as it was revealed to them. And those of us who already live at some distance can hardly imagine a time when Scott and Dickens, Browning and Tennyson, Ruskin and Carlyle, George Eliot and Charlotte Brontë will not be held in high esteem by those who love the great, the true, and the beautiful in literature.

Springing out of these discoveries and revelations there naturally arose a demand that the mind of man generally should be prepared to enjoy this new world. Dissatisfaction with existing methods of education began to be felt; and humble people who were unable to read and write began to ask that they and their children should be taught.

The education of girls at this time was particularly unsatisfactory, though it had not always been so. In the age of Elizabeth, for example, girls of the higher classes had received an excellent education. It was customary then for girls to learn Greek, Latin, and Hebrew, and as Mrs. Stopes points out in her interesting book on “Sixteenth Century Women Students,” the number of really learned women was very great. I do not know when these ideals of education gave way to lower ones, but readers of Addison will remember that one of his aims in his Spectator essays was to rescue women from the utter frivolity and emptiness of their lives. How scathing he is in his description of the way in which ladies killed time! when the buying of a ribbon was held to be a good morning’s work!

In the early part of Queen Victoria’s reign, the education of girls was indeed deplorable. An excessive amount of time was given to accomplishments and to the study of deportment; the instruction consisted, for the most part, of a smattering of many subjects: and the whole process of education was shallow and superficial. If the women of that day developed—as many did—force of character and of intellect, it was rather in spite of their education than because of it. Numbers of girls rose in revolt against this mental and spiritual starvation: some managed to become well-educated without any outside help, but to a great number this system meant either an utterly frivolous or extremely dull grown-up life.

Many were the voices raised in protest against this lack of education. And as one reads the literature of this time one is greatly struck by the number of men who pleaded for a different régime: not only leaders of thought, like Tennyson and Ruskin, but ordinary men of the educated classes. Perhaps as lookers on they saw most of the game, and into their souls there entered a deep bitterness that those who might count for so much counted for so little.

But although men by their writings and speeches and actual help in teaching, did much, it was on women that the real burden of this work was to fall. Neither sex can fully educate, though it may teach the other. In the main, the education of boys must be carried on by men; and the education of girls by women. It would be impossible to give a list of all the women who dedicated their powers to this work; who in a very real sense gave their lives that those after them might live. This little book is devoted to the story of one of the pioneers of educational work, and is necessarily limited to the part that Dorothea Beale played in this great enterprise. But Miss Beale, great as she was, was only one of many. Whilst she was working out her ideals at Cheltenham, other women in other schools and colleges were working out theirs: Frances Buss at the North London Collegiate, Emily Davies at Girton, Anne Clough at Newnham, Mrs. Reid at Bedford, Miss Pipe of Laleham, and many others. Nor is it possible to say which of these did the most important work. For we are dealing with that which cannot be measured,—the things of the mind and spirit.

Those of us who came late enough to enjoy some of the fruits of their work, can only acknowledge our deep sense of gratitude to this noble army of women who did so much. If the gates of knowledge are open to us, it was their hand which turned the key: if we can enter nearly every field of service, it was their feet which beat the track. If we hold in our hands a lamp that makes many of the dark places bright, it was they who kindled it and passed it on to us.

The part we must play is no passive one. If the lamp is to be kept burning, it must be fed by the oil of our devotion and our service.

CHAPTER II.

LIFE AT HOME AND AT SCHOOL.

“The pilgrim’s discovery is when he looks into his own heart and finds a picture of a city there. The pilgrim’s life is a journeying along the roads of the world seeking to find the city which corresponds to that picture.”—STEPHEN GRAHAM.

Dorothea Beale, who was born on March 21, 1831, was fortunate in her parentage and early environment. Her father, Miles Beale, was a surgeon who had been trained at Guy’s Hospital. He came of a family of literary traditions, and he himself was a man of wide interests and learning. Her mother, Dorothea Margaret Complin, was of Huguenot extraction and belonged to a family distinguished for its ability, counting among its members several “advanced” women. Mrs. Beale’s aunt, Mrs. Cornwallis, the wife of a rector of Wittersham, Kent, was a woman of considerable intellect and great spiritual gifts. She wrote several books of a devotional character. One of these, “Preparation for the Lord’s Supper with a Companion to the Altar,” contains much excellent advice to ladies on the use and abuse of speech, the regulation of time, indolence, desire of admiration, sickness, etc., breathing a devout and earnest spirit, and revealing in the writer an attitude of great severity towards herself. This little book, with its old-fashioned appearance, seemed to me, as I read it, full of the spirit which animated Mrs. Cornwallis’s celebrated great-niece.

Her daughter, Caroline Frances Cornwallis, was a remarkable woman. Her published letters are extremely interesting, and deal with a variety of subjects, Italy, Education, Religion, Science, Philosophy. She wrote a number of books in the series called “Small Books on Great Subjects”. These were published anonymously, and were considered to be the work of a man, at a time when the known authorship of a woman would have damned any book. Miss Cornwallis often used to laugh up her sleeve at the appreciation of critics who would undoubtedly have criticised her work unfavourably had they known it was that of a woman. She had a frail body, a courageous mind, and a devout spirit. At times she adopted a cynical attitude towards men’s low estimate of the intellectual powers of her sex. “Every man, you know, thinks he has a prescriptive right to be better informed than a woman, unless he has science enough to see that the said woman is up with him and therefore must know something.” This was, however, just a strain of bitterness bred in a brilliant, active mind handicapped by lack of facilities for real education, and restricted on every side by the bounds of custom and prejudice.

These two women undoubtedly influenced the future head of Cheltenham. Mrs. Beale’s sister, Elizabeth Complin, had lived for some time with the Cornwallises and was the medium through whom the young Beales came into contact with their ideas and ideals.

Dorothea Beale was also fortunate in being one of a large family. The spirit of the home seems to have been one of love and service. There was also a strong intellectual atmosphere, in which the children learnt early to love the best in literature. Her father would often read aloud to his children extracts from Shakespeare and other great writers, and from him and her mother Dorothea began early to imbibe a love of learning, and to find in literature some revelation of the great spiritual realities.

Dorothea’s education and that of the older members of the family was at first under the guidance of a governess. It must have been quite early in life that she received her first inkling of the incompetence of teachers of that day. She remembered a rapid succession of teachers whom Mrs. Beale was compelled to dismiss on account of their inability to teach. There appears to have been only one satisfactory governess, a Miss Wright, who was excellent: after she left, the girls were sent to school.

“It was a school,” says Dorothea Beale in her autobiography, “considered much above the average for sound instruction: our mistresses were women who had read and thought: they had taken pains to arrange various schemes of knowledge: yet what miserable teaching we had in many subjects: history was learned by committing to memory little manuals, rules of arithmetic were taught, but the principles were never explained. Instead of reading and learning the masterpieces of literature, we repeated week by week the Lamentations of King Hezekiah, the pretty, but somewhat weak, ‘Mother’s Picture’ of Cowper, and worse doggerel verses on the solar system.”

At the age of thirteen Dorothea was obliged to leave school on account of ill-health. She always considered this a fortunate circumstance as it enabled her to carry on her own education. No doubt a good deal of time was lost in following the circuitous routes of all self-educators, but the grit, determination, and power to overcome difficulties thereby developed, probably more than compensated for this. Libraries, notably those of the London Institute and Crosby Hall, at this time supplied her with many good books. The Medical Book Club circulated some books of general interest. She and her sisters were also able to attend excellent lectures given at the Literary Institution, Crosby Hall, and at the Gresham Institute.

“Miss Beale never learned to play,” said Mrs. Raikes in a speech on Foundress’ Day at the College after the beloved Principal had passed away. “During her girlhood there was no hockey, tennis, net-ball, swimming or other healthy exercise for girls; and Dorothea and her sisters were thrown back for their pleasure on the joys of the mind. Not only did Dorothea Beale never play herself, but she could never quite see the need for other people to play. The playgrounds, etc., which perforce grew up round Cheltenham Ladies’ College, were always rather a stumbling-block to her, though she was wise enough to be led by those who were more in touch in this respect with the spirit of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century.

“Her reading always inclined to the solid type, and in her girlhood she came across few novels.

“Her love of reading was never allowed to dissipate itself on trivialities, and here she had a great advantage over girls of to-day, for the ephemeral literature of this age—the endless magazines and short stories—did not exist to tempt and gradually to fritter away a good literary taste.”

She was at this time very much interested in the life of Pascal who, prevented by his father from acquiring a knowledge of mathematics, discovered for himself the truths of Euclid. Perhaps, as Mrs. Raikes suggests, it was Pascal’s example which inspired her to work through the first six books of Euclid by herself. She plodded steadily through the fifth book, not knowing that even at that time a few simple algebraic principles were substituted for Euclid’s rather laborious methods. To Dorothea Beale, as to many boys and girls, mathematics came as a wonderful revelation; they opened up to her developing mind a new world. In her subsequent work as a teacher she seems to have been able to hand on to her pupils something of the thrill and wonder that she herself experienced in these early days.

In the year 1847 Dorothea was sent with two elder sisters to a Mrs. Bray’s school for English girls in the Champs Elysées. This school is perhaps best described in Miss Beale’s own words in the “History of Cheltenham Ladies’ College”.

“I was myself for a few months, in 1848, pupil in a school that was considered grand and expensive. Mrs. Trimmer’s was the English History used in the highest classes. We were taught to perform conjuring tricks with the globe by which we obtained answers to problems without one principle being made intelligible. We were even compelled to learn from Lindley Murray lists of prepositions that we might be saved the trouble of thinking.”

She was glad, however, in later life of this and similar experiences. It gave her some idea of the enemies of education she had to fight. It made her realise how great was the need for the thorough training and education of teachers and how little could be accomplished without it.

In 1848 Mrs. Bray’s school came to an untimely end through the Revolution of that year and Dorothea returned home at the age of seventeen. Those who knew her at that time described her as “a grave and quiet girl, with a sweet serious expression and deliberate speech: also with a sunshiny smile and merry laugh on occasion. She was remarkable, even in a studious, sedentary family, for her love of reading and study.” According to one authority she was quite beautiful as a girl. One evening she and her sister Eliza went to a dance, Dorothea looking very lovely in a beautiful white dress. Eliza was dancing with a young man, who asked the name of that beautiful girl. “Oh!” said Eliza, delighted that he should admire Dorothea, “she’s my sister. Do you think she’s like me?”—“Good gracious, no!” blurted out the tactless young man. Eliza Beale used to tell this story with great zest, fully enjoying the reflection on her own looks.

In one part of her autobiography Dorothea Beale speaks of the influences of her early life.

“An aunt, my godmother, lived with us, and was often my friend in my childish troubles.... The strongest influence [on my inner life] was that of my sister Eliza. We were constantly together. She had a very lively imagination, and on most nights would tell me stories that she had invented. Early in the mornings she would transform our bedroom into some wild magic scene and we would play at Alexander the Great and ride Pegasus on the foot of our four-post bedstead.”

Already she had begun to show some of the characteristics which were so marked in later life, her devotion to duty, her keen intellectual interests. She was prepared for Confirmation, in 1847, by the Rev. Charles Mackenzie, to whose teaching Dorothea felt she owed much. Of early religious influences and experiences she thus speaks in her MS. autobiography.

“There was the faith of my parents, the morning and evening prayer. There was the Bible picture-book and the Sunday lessons. The church we went to was an old one, St. Helen’s, and at the entrance were the words: ‘This is none other than the House of God, and this is the Gate of Heaven’. There were high pews and the service was almost a duet between clergyman and clerk, yet I realised, even more than I ever have in the most beautiful cathedral and perfect services, that the Lord was in that place, even as Jacob realised in the desert what he had failed to find at home.”

Religion with her was never allowed to be simply an affair of the emotions: it meant obedience, discipline, the rigid performance of duty, but it was also a source of the deepest emotions.

“I remember how, as the story of the Crucifixion was read, the church would grow dark, as it seemed.... I know nothing of the substance of the sermons now, but I remember the emotion they often called forth, and how I with difficulty restrained my tears.... The hymns were a great power in my life. I remember the joy with which I would sing, in my own room, Ken’s Evening Hymn, and the awful joy of the Trinity Hymn ‘Holy, Holy, Holy’.”

In later years she said that she could not remember a time when God was not an ever-present Friend, a knowledge which sustained her through the darkest periods of her life, and her many struggles.

Whether she had at this time realised what her life-work was to be, I cannot say, but it was at home that she began to enjoy her first experience of teaching. Her brothers at the Merchant Taylors’ School suffered much from the unintelligent teaching prevalent in the boys’ schools of that day, and received help in their Latin and Mathematics from their clever elder sister. All this work doubtless helped to develop in Dorothea that clear vigorous mentality that characterised the great Head Mistress of Cheltenham, and impressed still more definitely on her mind the need for reforms in education.

Duty seems to have been, even at this early age, the key-note of her life, and she apparently bore an older girl’s usual share in domestic affairs, helping with the mending and the usual work of the house.

But this time at home was just a quiet breathing space before wider opportunities of study were granted to her.

CHAPTER III.

AT QUEEN’S COLLEGE.

“Can you remember ... when the great things happened for which you seemed to be waiting? The boy, who is to be a soldier—one day he hears a distant bugle: at once he knows. A second glimpses a bellying sail: straightway the ocean path beckons to him. A third discovers a college and towards its kindly lamp of learning turns young eyes that have been kindled and will stay kindled to the end.”—JAMES LANE ALLEN.

The opening of Queen’s College marked a great advance in the cause of girls’ and women’s education. It had its root in the Governesses’ Benevolent Institution, which was founded for the purpose of helping governesses in times of need. This was originated by the Rev. C. G. Nicolay, but in the year 1843 the Rev. David Laing, vicar of Holy Trinity Church, Kentish Town, was made honorary secretary. It was he who first saw that an institution that existed merely to relieve distress was unsatisfactory, and sought to establish, rather, an organisation to prevent the need for relief. Accordingly, he established a Registry for Teachers, and set on foot a scheme for granting diplomas. The latter naturally led to the starting of examinations, which revealed such appalling depths of ignorance in those who were supposed to instruct others, that the need for their tuition was realised.

As is always the case in great movements many were thinking along the same lines, and Miss Murray, Maid of Honour to the Queen, was at this time meditating the starting of a College for Women, and was, as a matter of fact, collecting funds for this purpose. As soon, however, as she heard of Mr. Laing’s plans she handed over to him the money she had collected. He consulted with the government about the establishment of this college, and the Queen graciously allowed it to be named after herself. A house in Harley Street, next door to the Governesses’ Benevolent Institution, was taken. Professors from King’s College were asked to give lectures, and to many women for the first time higher education became a possibility.

The committee, as at first constituted, included such well-known people as Charles Kingsley, Sterndale Bennett, John Hullah, F. D. Maurice, and R. C. Trench. It is still possible to see in book form the lectures which inaugurated the work undertaken by Queen’s College. Though it originated with the idea of helping governesses who wished to qualify for their work, it numbered among its earliest students girls who were to play an important part in many ways in the life of the nation. Among the first pupils were Miss Buss, Adelaide Ann Proctor, Miss Jex-Blake, and Dorothea Beale. At first there were no women lecturers or women teachers, but many women offered their services as chaperones, and very faithful they were in carrying out their trying and exacting duties.

The name of the Rev. Frederick Denison Maurice will always be associated with the founding of Queen’s College. Perhaps the name means little to men and women of our generation, though he was not only a great thinker but one of the pioneers of those who apply Christian standards to social life. He founded a Working Men’s College, which is still in existence, and took a great part in the work of Queen’s College. He was compelled to resign his chair of theology at King’s College, on account of his unorthodox beliefs, especially on the question of eternal punishment. Throughout his life he suffered much from charges of heresy, but he exercised a great influence on the religious life of his day, and on that of subsequent generations. He denounced any political economy based on selfishness, declaring it to be false: the Cross, not self-interest, must be the ruling power of the Universe. His lecture at the opening of Queen’s College was a most inspiring one, and his words must have fallen on the ears of some of the girls who listened to him like a call to high and noble service.

“The vocation of a teacher,” said he, “is an awful one: you cannot do her real good, she will do others unspeakable harm, if she is not aware of its usefulness.” He spoke against the harm done by simply providing her with necessaries. “You may but confirm her in the notion that the training of an immortal spirit may be just as lawfully undertaken in a case of emergency as that of selling ribands.” He went on to speak with great decision about the need of a thorough education for those whose special work was “to watch closely the first utterances of infancy, the first dawnings of intelligence: how thoughts spring into acts, how acts pass into habits”.

It was probably about this time that Dorothea began to see what her life-work was to be, and the noble inspiring words of this great servant of God doubtless did much to strengthen in her mind the sense of being called to high service. All through her career there is no thought more marked than that of the loftiness of a teacher’s work. From herself as well as from others of her calling she demanded that consecration of body, mind and spirit without which there can be no good work done. All who have read her “Addresses to Teachers,” and other works on teaching, realise the high level on which she placed the teacher’s calling, and the stress she laid on the need to pursue continuously impossible ideals of goodness and efficiency.

“All of us have to begin and we live in the intimate consciousness of this thought: Here is a child of God committed to my care, I am to help in so developing him in time that he may be a dweller in the eternal world here and hereafter. I, too, must live an eternal life, in order that I may draw forth that consciousness in him. I must behold the Face of the Father, and so become a light to my children that, seeing the light shine in me, they may glorify that Father.”[1]

[1] “Addresses to Teachers,” I, by Dorothea Beale.

Queen’s College was the greatest boon to Dorothea Beale. It gave her the chance of getting first-rate teaching in Mathematics and Greek. With Mr. Astley Cook she read, privately, Trigonometry, Conic Sections, and Differential Calculus. Soon after she was asked to teach Mathematics and became the first lady Mathematical tutor. As a teacher she could, ex officio, go to any class she liked, and attended at different times lectures on Latin, Greek, Mental Science, and German.

One of her chief friends at this time was a girl of her own age, Elizabeth Alston. The two used to study together, Elizabeth teaching Dorothea singing, whilst her friend taught her to read the New Testament in Greek. In later life she realised how much these singing lessons had done for her, enabling her to use her voice without fatigue for hours together.

Training colleges for elementary school teachers were established before there was anything of the kind for the teachers of better class children, and it was the head of the Battersea Training College who examined the candidates and awarded the diplomas for knowledge of methods of teaching.

At Queen’s College Dorothea Beale began to show signs of where her power as a teacher would lie. Throughout life it was one of her leading ideas that a teacher should be primarily an inspirer of her pupils: that though she should never cease to prepare her work with the greatest care, her aim should be chiefly to kindle the enthusiasm that would make her pupils eager to learn for themselves. Even at this early age she seems to have possessed this faculty, and long after she left Queen’s College, she occasionally received letters from her former pupils, saying how much her teaching had meant to them.

Her time there, however, was not to be long. There arose difficulties which she felt could not be tolerated. These were, briefly, that one particular person had too much authority, while the women visitors had too little, and what they had was gradually diminishing. This led to many evils, notably the promotion of children into the upper section, or college, from the lower section, or school, long before they were able to derive any benefit from advanced tuition.

Dorothea Beale returned from a summer holiday abroad in 1856 to find these difficulties worse than ever. She and a friend thereupon sent in their resignations, hoping to be able to avoid giving any explanation. Dr. Plumptre, the Head, was, however, extremely anxious for her to reveal the reason for her withdrawal, which she did very reluctantly. After hearing her reasons for leaving, he acknowledged that she was acting in accordance with her conscience and was trying to do what she held to be her duty. Dorothea Beale throughout her life seems to have had to fight against an impetuosity of nature which was in curious opposition to that greatness of mind that enabled her to wait for the carrying out of any great project. Her action in this connection was characteristically impetuous, for before the correspondence was concluded, she had accepted the post of Head Teacher at Casterton School.

Already we find that she had formulated some of the educational theories she held through life. One of these, which she mentioned in her letter to Dr. Plumptre, was that girls can be thoroughly educated only by women: that though some classes may be taken profitably by men, the education of girls as a whole must be in the hands of their own sex. She showed also her appreciation of the need for thorough groundwork, without which no advanced work can be well done.

Though her action in this matter was characteristically impetuous, and that of a young idealist, it revealed that strong sense of duty which would not allow her to shrink from any painful experience, if the doing of right was involved.

Dorothea Beale, probably because she was one of a big family of girls, was apparently spared one of the most perplexing problems of modern girls and women. From the moment when she felt herself called to the work of teaching she seems to have had no doubt that she was right to obey the call, and was thus saved the torment of the woman worker who is haunted by the thought of home needs unfulfilled. The only daughter in a home, who feels herself called to work outside it, has one of the most difficult of life’s problems to face. She has the knowledge that an ageing father and mother need her, that, perhaps, she will have by and by to earn her own living, and has in her heart the incessant call of the work that claims her. There is no one solution to a case of this kind: every case must be judged independently. It is a difficulty as inherent as sex or any other vital part of life, and needs to be honestly and frankly faced. To most girls in this position, I should say: Get your training early, whilst your parents are still strong and well, so that if the opportunity of doing work comes you may be ready. Some girls who live in big towns are able to combine home duties with outside work: though on those who are not strong this life of twofold duty is often a great strain. Others, less fortunately placed, realise that the two are alternatives, the choice must be made, and the more imperative duty accepted. In this connection it is well to realise, I think, that the harder duty is not of necessity the right one. The work one dislikes is not necessarily the work one ought to undertake, though it may be. The attitude of many religious people in the past has, I think, been quite wrong in this respect. God has given to all of us special talents and aptitudes, in the exercise of which we find our greatest happiness and do our best work. To believe that the Creator always calls us to do the uncongenial task is, to my mind, to mock His plans. If, however, the beloved task has to be deferred, and the need of our loved ones claims us, there comes with the accepted duty peace and rest of mind, and the waiting time may be used for preparation of mind, heart, and character. To many men and more women, who have kept before them the vision of the work they would do, has often come in a quite unforeseen way an opportunity of doing it: and they have realised how much richer and better their life is for their wider experience during the time of waiting.

CHAPTER IV.

A DIFFICULT YEAR AND A TIME OF WAITING.

“Difficulties are the stones out of which all God’s houses are built.”—ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.

All readers of “Jane Eyre” will remember the school, Lowood, to which Jane was sent, and her terrible experiences, especially at the beginning of her time there. The foundation in actual life of this school of fiction, coloured by the Brontë temperament, with its evils exaggerated for the purposes of art, is known by all to be the Clergy Daughters’ School at Casterton. As we have seen in the last chapter, it was to this school that Dorothea Beale had somewhat hastily resolved to go after sending in her resignation to the Head of Queen’s College. Probably she looked upon the offer of this post as an indication that she was to sever her connection with the college in London. If in her decision she was to blame, she certainly paid the price of her mistake.

Casterton is near Kirkby Lonsdale, in a somewhat lonely district, within sight of the rounded height of Ingleborough. Dear to the heart of north-country people is this glorious wild country, but it must have seemed terribly out of the world to a girl accustomed to the life of London, to its libraries and lectures, and the many interests of the metropolis.

From the first Dorothea Beale felt herself oppressed and hindered by numbers of things which she did not approve, and could not alter. The girls wore a uniform which she found terribly depressing: the rules of the school were extremely rigid, and the restrictions so many that she felt the girls had no room for growth. To her, the whole organisation of the place seemed wrong in principle, and the effect on the character of the girls of a too rigid discipline appears to have been pernicious. To one whose views on education were already clearly defined, the having to “carry on” without any power to change what was wrong, must have been an extremely trying experience.

Nor was there much compensation in her own work of teaching: rather the opposite. She found herself compelled to teach many subjects, far more than she could do justice to: Scripture, Arithmetic, Mathematics, Ancient and Modern Church History, Physical and Political Geography, English Literature, Grammar and Composition, French, German, Italian, and Latin. Holding such strong views as she did about the preparation of lessons and the careful correction of children’s work, she must have found this undue multiplication of subjects very unsatisfactory. There can be, I suppose, for natures like Dorothea Beale’s, few things so trying as circumstances which make a high standard of work impossible. Her father’s letters to her at this time reveal the strong friendship that existed between the two. She wrote home that she found the work hard and her father replied, evidently with the idea of cheering her:—

“Employment is a blessed state, it is to the body what sleep is to the mind.... I cannot be sorry when I hear that you are fully employed. I am sure it will be usefully.... I feel I can bear your being so far and so entirely away with some philosophy, and I am delighted that your letters bear the tone of content, and that you have been taken notice of by people who seem disposed to be kind to you.... Give an old man’s love to all your pupils and may they make their fathers as happy as you do.”

The difficulties at Casterton, however, did not grow less, but tended rather to increase. Her parents began to have some inkling of these, and to feel very doubtful whether she ought to stay at Casterton. On her birthday, March 21, her father wrote again:—

“God bless you and give you many birthdays. I fear the present is not one of the most agreeable: it is spent at least in the path of what you consider duty, and so will never be looked back upon but with pleasure.... Do not, however, my dear girl, think of remaining long in a position which may be irksome to you, for thus, I think, it will hardly be profitable to others, and indeed I question whether you would maintain your health where the employment was so great and duty the only stimulus to action. You have heard me often quote: ‘The hand’s best sinew ever is the heart’.”

Two months later Mr. Beale wrote:—

“I long to see you again very much. I cannot get reconciled to your position and feel satisfied that it is your place.... God bless you, my dear girl, and blunt your feelings for the rubs of the world, and quicken your vision for the beautiful and unseen of the world above you.”

The sensitiveness her father alludes to in this letter was one of Dorothea Beale’s leading characteristics to the end of her life. Though she welcomed and considered the criticism of competent people and often acted on it she had a curiously sensitive shrinking from adverse judgment: and this often cut her off from valuable advice. Her shyness, too, kept her from the friendship of those who, like herself, were too diffident to make advances. In it, however, lay one of her chief powers, the subtle perception that enabled her to see almost into the very souls of the girls she taught. Once, at Cheltenham, a child refused to admit that she had done wrong. One morning Dorothea Beale sent for the class teacher. “Send So-and-So to me,” she said, “I can see from her face this morning that she will tell me all.” And she was right.

It was at Casterton that she adopted the simple style of dress that she always preferred. One of her pupils thus describes her:—

“Her appearance, as I remember it then, was charming. Her figure was of medium height. The rather pale oval face, high, broad forehead, large, expressive grey eyes, all showed intellectual character. Her dress was remarkable in its neatness. She wore black cashmere in the week, and a pretty mouse-coloured grey dress on Sundays.”

Possibilities of making improvements at Casterton now began to weigh on her mind. Unless things were changed she felt she could not stay, but she was not inclined to give up without an effort at amelioration. She determined to take a very bold step and to appeal to the Committee. Her father was kept in touch with all her plans at this time and wrote:—

“I think we must be content to wait, at any rate for the present, and see if any good comes from your interview with the Committee. You notice two points chiefly—the low moral tone of the school and the absence of prizes [distinctions, responsibilities, etc.]. The want of sympathy and love (the great source of woman’s influence in every condition of life) was the prominent feature of the establishment in my mind after talking it over with you. But nothing can flourish if love be not the ruling incentive....”

He goes on to say that he realises how much love and devotion she puts into her work, but how useless it is when she is unsupported.

“Weigh the matter well before this Christmas,” he continues, “and if you find no changes are made, the same cold management continued, send in your resignation.”

Then the affectionate father concludes:—

“I cannot contemplate your not coming up at Christmas. As we grow older each year makes us more desirous of the company of those we love; perhaps, because we feel how soon we shall part with it altogether; perhaps, because we are become more selfish, but such is the fact.”

The six members of the Committee apparently consented with some reluctance to hear Dorothea, but she did get a hearing and brought her chief objections before them. The experience was not so trying as she had anticipated, and the Committee appeared fairly conciliatory. She explained—in speaking of the absence of prizes—that by this term she meant rather distinctions, privileges, and opportunities of doing good. She offered to resign, but the Committee said, “Oh, no, certainly not”. And she came away feeling that her efforts might have some good result.

Few people, whether individuals or collective bodies, can endure criticism, and Dorothea Beale’s complaints seem to have caused a great deal of discomfort in her relationship with those connected with Casterton. This was increased very much by a suspicion that she was not orthodox according to the evangelical low-church point of view. She was considered “high,” and was suspected of holding extreme views about baptismal regeneration, one of the storm centres of religious controversy at this time. This caused even one of her chief friends on the Committee to wish her to leave.

With the tenacity of purpose that characterised her through life, she tried to believe that it was right for her to stay and fight the difficulties at Casterton. Gradually, however, the impossibility of doing so became evident, and she wrote to her father:—

“I do not see how it is possible to do much good. I may work upon a few individuals, but the whole tone of the school is unhealthy, and I never felt anything like the depression arising from the constant jar upon one’s feelings caused by seeing great girls professing not to care about religion.”

She suggested that she should send in her resignation, and her father replied at length, giving her advice as to how to approach the Committee, and again writing words of cheer:—

“Above all things take care of your health.... I am quite sure that you have a long course of usefulness before you. The flattering regard in which you are held at Queen’s College, and the constant means you always have in London of constantly improving yourself, must teach you somewhat of your own value. Though I would not indeed presume upon it further than to give you confidence to act rightly.”

It was near the end of November before Dorothea made her final decision to send in her resignation. She had not time to carry out this decision before she received the following note from the Committee:—

“On your last interview with the Committee you implied an intention of resigning in case certain alterations should not be made by the Committee....

“The Committee are of opinion that, under the circumstances, it would be better that your connection with the school should cease after Christmas next, they paying you a quarter’s salary in advance.”

This note was received shortly before the Christmas holidays.

It is easier to imagine than to describe the effect of this summary dismissal on a highly sensitive girl, whose actions had throughout been prompted by a sincere desire for the good of the school. It is difficult to endure the sense of failure in youth before one has had assurance of one’s own powers. Again at this time her father’s sympathetic letters, reminding her of the high motives with which she had undertaken this work, were a great comfort to her. In after years Dorothea Beale acknowledged the value of this year at Casterton. No life is perhaps complete without its times of failure, as she must have felt her year at Casterton to be. For the world is full of men and women who fail, and it is only by personal knowledge of their experience that we can sympathise with them and help them to rise above it.

Many, however, appreciated the good work Dorothea Beale did at Casterton, and her quiet and steady persistence in what she felt to be right were not without their permanent influence on the school. Her remembrance of this school was a source of pain to her, and yet, as the years went on, she felt how much she owed to her experiences there. In The Times of November 19, 1906, there is an extract from a letter by Canon A. D. Burton, Casterton Vicarage, Kirkby Lonsdale.

“I have read with interest your account of Miss Beale’s life. I think, however, it is possible that it may give an erroneous impression with regard to her connection with Casterton, and it may be of interest if I mention that I happen to know something of the feelings she entertained towards the school. Rather more than a year ago she wrote to say that it had long been in her mind to do something for the school in grateful remembrance of the benefit which her connection with it had been to her, and this wish finally took shape in the founding of a scholarship to Cheltenham, and the first Casterton-Beale Scholar is at the present time in residence at that college.

“The Casterton Clergy Daughters’ School, like most other schools of long standing, has a past which is not to be compared with its present. That is no disparagement to it, but the reverse. Its present state is one of high efficiency, but it is interesting that it was not on this account only that Miss Beale wished her name to be always connected with it, but because she felt herself in debt to it. ‘I owe much to it,’ were her words. A few months ago she also presented to the school an oil-painting of herself which was hung in the entrance hall.”

She did not leave Casterton, however, without some acknowledgment on the part of the authorities and others that her work and character had been appreciated. It must also have been a solace to her when Dr. Plumptre, hearing of her resignation, at once wrote and spoke of the possibility of a mathematical tutorship at Queen’s College.

It was characteristic of Dorothea Beale that after she returned home from Casterton with one part of her work finished and no other in view, she did not idly waste her time but began a definite piece of work—the writing of her history, “The Student’s Text-book of English and General History”. The need of such a book was felt very strongly at this time, partly because of the outcry against the papistical doctrine inserted into Ince’s history, one of the most popular text-books of the day. This book must have involved an enormous amount of work, though it dealt only in outline with this vast subject. In the preface she makes it clear to the student that no real knowledge of history can be built upon such a slender foundation, and urges the need for filling in the outlines by wide and thorough reading. Her history was not her only occupation at this time; she did some visiting teaching—Latin and Mathematics—at Miss Elwell’s school at Barnes.

She realised the difficulty of working steadily at home, knowing the thousand distractions, social and domestic, that come to divert a girl from any definite pursuits. So she adopted the plan of writing her history in a large empty room at the top of the house. Here she would work without a fire on cold winter days. Whether this was an expression of the desire for Spartan simplicity of life which she always had, or was done simply to keep away members of the family who might wish to come and chat, one cannot say.

Dorothea Beale had evidently undertaken some work as secretary and collector for the Church Penitentiary Association and for a Diocesan Home at Highgate, working with Mrs. Lancaster. The latter greatly appreciated her and her conscientious work, and realised what a valuable helper she would be, if she could enlist her in this great service. She approached her with the suggestion that she should take the headship of the Home. Dorothea Beale considered the offer but refused. This must have been a great test of faith in her own judgment. Behind her were two experiences, both of which had ended in apparent failure because of her inability to agree with the authorities. No educational work was in view, and she must have questioned her own wisdom in refusing this opportunity of service which came to her. Yet it seems as if at this time there dawned on her mind the deep conviction that she was called to educational work among her own class: that with her temperament and ideas so much in advance of her own time a headship was the only post that would give her the scope and freedom that she needed if she was to do her best work. And so she waited, not with idle hands and brain, but fully occupied with her history, her teaching, and home duties.

It was probably about this time that she began her Diary, which she kept with some intervals until the year 1901. The purpose of it seems to have been to keep a record not of outward events but rather of her moral and spiritual life. In it we have one of the many evidences of that sternness towards herself which she maintained in all circumstances of life, even in illness. Earlier, perhaps, than most people, she seems to have realised that her influence on others would depend entirely on what she herself was. One or two quotations from her journal will illustrate the purpose of it.

March 6.—History. Aunt E. came. Cross at not getting my own way. Some idleness. Impatient manner.

April 14.—History. Elizabeth. Called on the Blenkarnes. Dined at Chapter House. Idle. Indulgence in reading story at my time for evening prayer. Unpunctual in morning. Thoughtless about Mama.

April 20.—History, 16th Century. Felt terribly cross. O grant me calmness.

June 4.—Saw Mrs. Barret. Copied. Neglected prayer greatly. Very worldly.

June 7.—Wrote letters. A terrible blank of worldliness. Idle.

June 9.—Wrote to Miss Elwell. Letter from Cheltenham. Copied certificates. Worldly. Spoke angrily to A.

At this time there are many allusions in her journal to crossness. Probably it was the result of that supreme test of the active, energetic mind—the enduring of uncertainty. In 1901 she wrote to a friend about this period of her life:—

“Once I had an interval of work, and I thought perhaps God would not give it me again—but after that interval He called me here. I think now I can see better how I needed that time of comparative quiet and solitude, and a time to think over my failures, and a time to be more helpful to my family.”

Whilst still young, Dorothea Beale formed the habit of frequent attendance at early Communion, which she maintained all through her busy life. Like the saintly men and women of all ages, she felt that the more strenuous and exacting her work, the more she needed these hours of Communion. The Sacraments of the Church as generally necessary to salvation she believed to be two—Baptism and Holy Communion—but the whole of life to her was sacramental. More and more as years passed by did outward and visible things become to her the signs of inward and spiritual realities: to her, and to those of her school of thought, sacramentalism meant “the discovery of the river of the water of life flowing through the whole desert of human existence”.

But Dorothea Beale was no dreamy, unpractical mystic, holding herself aloof from the practical difficulties of life. She realised that there is little value in a religion that cannot find expression in the life of every day; and little strength in the soul that is not continually fortified by the struggle of work and the carrying out of duty.

“The religion of Dorothea Beale,” says Mrs. Raikes, “was far indeed from being a mere succession of beautiful and comforting thoughts. It meant authority. It involved all the difficulties of daily obedience, it meant the fatigue of watching, the pains of battle, sometimes the humiliation of defeat. Intense as was her feeling on religious subjects, it was never permitted to go off in steam, as she would term it, but became at once a practical matter for everyday life.”

CHAPTER V.

SMALL BEGINNINGS.

O, I am sure they really came from Thee,

The urge, the ardour, the unconquerable will,

The potent, felt, interior command, stronger than words,

A message from the Heavens whispering to me even in sleep.

These speed me on.

—WALT WHITMAN, “Prayer of Columbus”.

Until about 1825, Cheltenham was simply a small market-town, famous for its mild climate and fertile soil, but at this time its medicinal springs were discovered, and it became the fashion for royalty and aristocracy to take the waters. Between 1801 and 1840 the population of Cheltenham increased tenfold. In 1843, Cheltenham College, a proprietary school for boys, was opened. Ten years later, on September 30, 1853, a meeting was held in the house of the Rev. H. Walford Bellairs, who was Her Majesty’s Inspector of Schools in Gloucestershire, and a prospectus was drawn up of “A College in Cheltenham for the education of young ladies and children under eight”.

The instruction was to include the Liturgy of the Church of England, grammar, geography, arithmetic, French, drawing, needlework. The fees were to range from 6 guineas to 20 guineas a year, and the capital was to consist of £2000 in £10 shares. The entire management and control were to be in the hands of the founders, the Rev. H. W. Bellairs; the Rev. W. Dobson, Principal of Cheltenham College; the Rev. H. A. Holden, Vice-Principal; Lieutenant-Colonel Fitzmaurice; Dr. S. E. Comyn; and Mr. Nathaniel Hartland.

They appointed as Principal Mrs. Procter, the widow of Colonel Procter, and as Vice-Principal her daughter, Miss Procter, who was understood to be the actual head. Mrs. Procter was to furnish the wisdom and stability of mature years, Miss Procter the youth and vigour necessary for teaching. A younger sister held the post of secretary.

At first it was intended that the college should be restricted to day pupils, but it was soon found that this would limit its usefulness, and some months before the opening of the school the proprietors had arranged for three boarding-houses, the fees of which were extremely low, being only £40 a year.

Cheltenham Ladies’ College was laid on good foundations. The founders had an ardent desire for a thorough and liberal education, and their ideas were well carried out from the very beginning of the school’s career. The teaching appears to have been of a high order, the teachers were people of conscience and ability. In her “History of Cheltenham Ladies’ College,” Miss Beale quotes from old pupils who spoke most highly of the early days.

The school was opened on February 13, 1854, in Cambray House, where the great Duke of Wellington had once stayed for about six weeks. It was a fine square-built house with a beautiful garden. By the end of the first year the 100 pupils had increased to 150; the second year also marked an increase. But after that the numbers began to go down, until at the end of 1857 the numbers had fallen to 89, and the capital had begun to diminish.

Some disagreement on educational methods then arose between Miss Procter and the Committee, with the result that the former resigned and started another school in Cheltenham, which was continued for thirty years.

The Principal’s letter to the Committee on her departure shows her scrupulous care of the property of others:—

“MY DEAR SIR,

“I thank you much for your kind letter enclosing your cheque for £41 10s. 6d.

“I take this opportunity of sending you the keys of the college. The house has been cleaned throughout. The chimneys have all been swept.

“Some few stores—nearly ¹⁄₄ cwt. of soap, some dip candles, and two new scrubbing brushes—are in the closet in the pantry.

“The new zinc ventilator is in the press used for the drawing materials.

“Two cast-iron fenders, of mine, have been removed from two of the class-rooms.

“I remain, my dear Sir,

“Yours very sincerely,

“S. ANNE PROCTER.”

It was in May, 1858, that the advertisement for a new Principal of Cheltenham College appeared in various papers.

CHELTENHAM LADIES’ COLLEGE.

“A vacancy having occurred in the office of lady Principal, candidates for the appointment are requested to apply by letter (with references) before June 1 to J. P. Bell, Esq., Hon. Sec., Cheltenham.

“A well educated and experienced lady (between the ages of thirty-five and forty-five) is desired, capable of conducting an institution with not less than one hundred day pupils.

“A competent knowledge of German and French, and a good acquaintance with general English literature, arithmetic, and the common branches of female education, are expected.

“Salary, upwards of £200 a year, with furnished apartments and other advantages.

“No testimonials to be sent until applied for, and no answers will be returned except to candidates apparently eligible.”

Dorothea Beale applied for this post and was accepted as a candidate for the headship. She had now to set about getting testimonials and recommendations. Some of these are interesting.

Miss Elwell, at whose school she had taught, wrote:—

“You have succeeded in making subjects usually styled dry, positively attractive, whilst your plan has been successful in forming not merely superficial scholars, even whilst producing results in a remarkably short period.”

Her friend, Elizabeth Ann Alston, wrote:—

“Of her power of teaching others and making them delight in their studies, there is no doubt. But you do not know her, as I do, in her home and daily life: there all look up to her and seek her counsel.”

Many testimonials were given as to her character and work, and these made such a favourable impression on the Cheltenham Committee that she was summoned for an interview on June 14.

She evidently had not any suitable clothes to wear on such a formidable occasion, and had to borrow a blue silk frock from her sister Eliza. Perhaps the work on her history had prevented her from attending to her wardrobe. She was appointed and everything seemed happily settled. One can imagine with what joy she looked forward to this opportunity of doing the work she longed to do untrammelled by bonds made by those of differing ideas. After all these months of waiting she had at last obtained her heart’s desire.

But the stigma of leaving Casterton was not easily removed, and a great blow awaited her.

On July 12 she received a letter from Mr. J. Penrice Bell, the Honorary Secretary of the Committee, saying that he had received from two gentlemen letters about her religious views, that might make it necessary for the Cheltenham Ladies’ College Committee to reconsider their decision. He quoted briefly their allegations:—

“‘She, Miss Beale, is very High Church, to say the least, and holds ultra views of baptismal regeneration.’ ... ‘She has also a serious and deep religious feeling, and a self-denying character. But she is decidedly High Church. Her opinions on the vital and critical question of sacramental grace are altogether those of the High Church or Tractarian school.’”

To a sensitive girl like Dorothea Beale this was indeed a shock, but she was determined not to lose the desired work through any misunderstanding, and replied at once to Mr. Bell explaining her views on baptism, which were said to be “extreme”:—

“If you understand by the opus operatum ‘efficacy’ of baptism that all who are baptized are therefore saved.... I explicitly state that I do not hold that doctrine. I believe baptism to be ‘an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace given unto us: to be the appointed means for admitting members into the Church of Christ’.”

The allegation that she belonged to the High Church party she dealt with:—

“Your second question [i.e. did she belong to the High Church?] ... cannot be categorically answered, since it has never been defined what are the opinions of the High Church party; I would say that I differ from some who assume that title.... I think no one could entertain a greater dread than I of those Romish opinions entertained by some ‘who went out from us, but were not of us’: indeed, during the last six months, I have been engaged in preparing an English history for the use of schools, because Ince’s “Outlines” (a book used in your college) inculcates Romish doctrines.”

The conclusion of her letter shows how clearly she realised the effect that might be produced if the Committee revoked their decision:—

“I have endeavoured to be perfectly candid: should the Council decide that my views are so unsound that I am unfit to occupy the position to which I have been appointed, I shall trust that they will allow me to make as public a statement of my opinions as they are obliged to make of my dismissal, for I shall feel that after this no person of moderate views will trust me, and my own conscience would not allow me to work with the extreme party in either High or Low Church.”

The suspense whilst the Committee’s decision hung in the balance must have been great. Her diary indicates this:—

July 12.—Mr. Bell’s letter about High Church from Cheltenham, and my answer. Some vanity. (Prayer) for resignation.

July 14.—Letter from Cheltenham. Neglect of prayer. Several times rude.

The Committee, however, seem to have been satisfied with her letter to Mr. Bell, and another to Mr. Bellairs, in which she referred him to two friends who knew what her religious views were, sending him also two books, “which I have published without my name—not because I was ashamed of expressing what I thought right, but because one naturally shrinks from expressing without necessity one’s inner religious life”.

They still had one more question, which Mr. Bell asked in his next letter:—

“Holding the opinions you have expressed, should you consider it a duty and feel it incumbent on you to inculcate them in your Divinity instruction to the pupils?”

To this she replied:—

“I quite feel it to be a Christian duty, if it be possible, to live peaceably with all men, not giving heed to those things which minister questions rather than godly edifying, but I am sure you would feel I should be unworthy of your confidence could I through any fear of consequences resort to the least untruthfulness.”

DOROTHEA BEALE IN 1859

p. 32

The difficulty was thus ended, and Dorothea Beale entered her kingdom. In spite of the many possibilities of giving offence, from the beginning she made the Scripture lessons the very centre of her teaching. To these she went herself not only with her carefully prepared work but with her heart and soul equally equipped. She demanded equal reverence in her pupils, and during times of building at the college the noise of the hammer was suspended when these lessons were being given.

There is little record about the beginning of her work at Cheltenham. Twice Miss Brewer, who was to be Vice-Principal, called upon her: and there are one or two entries in her diary about “shopping” and “turning-out”. Even the date (August 4) on which she set out for Cheltenham with her mother is only known by deduction. One can imagine, however, the spirit in which Dorothea Beale set out into the unknown. Was it to be failure or success? Were her powers equal to the many difficulties that lay before her? Would the Committee turn out to be the kind of people with whom she could work? But we know enough to be sure that she looked to God as her guide in all things, and that in offering herself for this great work of education she laid her life and all her powers at His feet.

Dorothea Beale’s first two years at Cheltenham were a struggle from beginning to end. When she arrived the College had begun to go down, and many of the elder girls had left with Miss Procter, so that the oldest pupils were now only thirteen or fourteen years of age. Mrs. Raikes in her “Life,” quotes a description of her from a pupil who was at the school when she arrived:—

“I can see her now as she appeared in reality—the slight, young figure, the very gentle, gliding movements, the quiet face with the look of intense thoughtfulness and utter absence of all poor and common stress and turmoil, the intellectual brow, the wonderful eyes with their calm outlook and their expression of inner vision.”

One of her first decisions was to continue and make permanent the rule of silence, which Miss Procter had introduced at the beginning of the college. She was, at first, full of doubts as to the wisdom of this rule but was so well satisfied with the results that she never saw any reason to alter it. Pupils were allowed to speak only with a teacher’s permission, which was always given when it was necessary. Her reasons for the ordaining of this rule were to inculcate habits of self-control, to prevent the making of friendships of which parents might not approve, to secure concentration and good discipline. It was very rigidly enforced, and if a girl broke it only a few times in the term a remark to that effect was inevitably put into her Report. One of the jokes frequently made against the Ladies’ College was that no Cheltenham girl could talk!

The history of these two years is given very graphically in Miss Beale’s History of the College, from which the following account is almost entirely taken. When Miss Beale was appointed there were only sixty-nine girls left, of whom fifteen had already given notice (of these only one actually left). Only £400 was left out of the original capital. The ladies who had kept boarding-houses gave up on account of the uncertainty, and several of the original shareholders sold their £10 shares for £5.

“Several birds of prey,” said Miss Beale, “were seen hovering about expecting the demise of the College, and it would probably have ceased to exist had there not remained two years of the Cambray lease, for the rent of which £200 a year had to be found. It is impossible to give an adequate idea of the hard struggle for existence maintained during the next two years, and of the minute economies which had to be practised. Haec nunc meminisse juvat. The Principal was blamed for ordering prospectuses without leave at the cost of fifteen shillings, and the second-hand furniture procured would not have delighted people of æsthetic taste. Curtains were dispensed with as far as possible, and it was questioned whether a carving-knife was required by the Principal in her furnished apartments.”

The teaching staff was reduced as far as possible and the Principal and Vice-Principal gave up their half-holiday to chaperone those girls who took lessons from masters. The Principal did a great deal of teaching at this time including Scripture throughout the College.

Everything that could be done in those two years to curtail expenditure was done. The gain or loss of one pupil was considered an important event. One day Miss Beale was at dinner when a father called with two girls. The maid sent him away, saying that her mistress was at dinner. Miss Beale, however, sent her at once in pursuit after the departing visitors. She spoke to the maid afterwards about this matter and said, “I am never at dinner”.

At the end of these two years the lease of Cambray House expired, and, though the deficit was less at the end of 1860 than in 1859, there was not a single member of the Committee who was willing to take the responsibility of renewing the lease. Many causes conspired to make the school unpopular at this time, and the question of giving it up had to be seriously considered.

Just when things were at their worst a deliverer appeared in the person of Mr. J. Houghton Brancker, who was asked to audit the accounts. After a thorough investigation this gentleman gave his verdict that it was impossible for the school ever to pay its way with the then system of fees. Accordingly he drew up a scheme which he considered satisfactory, lowering the ordinary fees, but making music and drawing, which had hitherto been included in the ordinary curriculum, extra subjects. Mr. Brancker was asked to join the Council; under his able rule as chancellor of the exchequer, the College finances began to improve, and grinding anxiety about money matters soon became a thing of the past. Cambray House was taken by the year until things were in a more satisfactory state, but such a precaution was unnecessary, as the College after this had a career of almost unbroken progress and prosperity.

Financial difficulties were not, however, the only ones that Miss Beale had to fight, nor were they the hardest. Far greater foes to her peace of mind were those of ignorance, prejudice, and lack of ideals about girls’ education. Practical difficulties, too, stood in the way of high attainment. Dorothea Beale relates some of these in her “History of the Ladies’ College”. It was said that college life would “turn girls into boys”. Day schools for girls were unpopular, and the custom of having morning and afternoon school caused parents a great deal of trouble in sending maids with their children. Teachers were scarce and those to be had were very inferior.

“Do you prepare your lessons?” asked Dorothea Beale of a candidate.

“Oh no!” she replied, “I never teach anything I don’t understand.”

Parents looked with horror on the teaching of mathematics and even advanced arithmetic, in spite of the poverty to which ignorance of investments often reduced women.

Some reminiscences of former pupils give a little idea of what Dorothea Beale was like in her teaching and in her relationship to her children.

“I never remember her raising her voice, scolding us, being satirical or impatient with dullness or inattention. She was not satirical even when a small girl, on being asked what criticism might be passed on Milton’s treatment of “Paradise Lost,” ventured the audacious suggestion that the poet was ‘verbose’.”

Her methods were designed to encourage rather than to repress. A pupil recalls “an afternoon when she visited the needlework room and found me being most justly blamed for inefficiency. In kindly tones she said to the shy and clumsy culprit: ‘You ought to sew well, for your mother has such beautiful long fingers,’ and somehow I felt comforted and encouraged. Then there was a day when I summoned up courage to go and tell her that I had been guilty of some small disobedience as well as others who had been detected and punished. She seized the opportunity of impressing upon me that as I was (though only fourteen) a teacher in my father’s Sunday School—a fact of which I did not know she was aware—I must surely see that obedience to rule was necessary. I can still hear the low, earnest tones in which she made her appeal to my sense of justice and right.”

At this period of her life her power was probably as great as it ever was, though the scope was comparatively narrow.

“It is my peculiar privilege,” writes one, “to have spent all my college career in her class, to go through years of her special personal teaching. In later days when the College assumed large dimensions, such an experience must have been rare; to those who could claim it, it meant a potent influence for life. How vividly can I recall her sitting on her little daïs, scanning the long schoolroom and discovering anything amiss at the far end of it; or making a tour of inspection to the various classes with a smiling countenance that banished terror.”

Her personal relationship to any of her children in sorrow was always a very tender one.

“When I was almost a child at College I lost my mother and shall never forget Miss Beale’s tender sympathy and help. She took such interest in my preparation for Confirmation and brought me herself to my first Communion—just she and I alone: a day I shall always remember. All through my girlhood she was a kind and ready adviser, and continued her interest throughout my married life. One always felt whatever happened to one, ‘Now I must tell Miss Beale’.”

So with the varied joys of teaching, and the difficulties of narrow means, and the opposition of supporters of the old régime, did Dorothea Beale’s life at Cheltenham begin.

Forty years later she wrote of this time:—

“How often I was full of discouragement. It was not so much the want of money as the want of ideals that depressed me. If I went into society I heard it said: ‘What is the good of education for our girls? They have not to earn their living.’ Those who spoke did not see that, for women as for men, it is a sin to bury the talents God has given: they seemed not to know that the baptismal right was the same for girls as for boys, alike enrolled in the army of light, soldiers of Jesus Christ.”

No knight of olden times who rode forth against the evils of his day needed greater courage than this woman who set out to destroy the evils of prejudice, custom, and ignorance. I have spoken sometimes with her “old girls,” who were with her in the early days, and were among the first to enter on paths untrodden by women’s feet. They were like men who seek a new land; no sacrifice seemed too great; no toil seemed too hard. Following their dauntless leader they knew themselves to be the vanguard of a great army of women infinite in number and of unknown power.

CHAPTER VI.

ON EDUCATION.

“Knowledge is now no more a fountain sealed.”—TENNYSON, “The Princess”.

In order to understand Dorothea Beale’s work and that of her many contemporaries who were working towards the same end, it is necessary to know something of the depths to which girls’ education had sunk in that day. All readers of Ruskin’s “Sesame and Lilies” are familiar with his bitter invective against the attitude of parents towards this important question, and his passionate appeal for reform. And Ruskin was only one of the many men who realised the pity of the paltry and superficial education that girls received, and the extent to which the whole world suffered on this account. So strong had public feeling become among the better educated on this burning question that, in the year 1864, a Schools’ Inquiry Commission was instituted; and as far as possible a thorough investigation was made of the subject. Reports on Girls’ Schools were given by Mr. Fitch, Mr. Bryce, and others.

To all interested in education the Blue Book is an extremely interesting document. The evidence and reports are based on what was seen and known, and present a terrible indictment of the then condition of girls’ schools.

“Although,” says Mr. Bryce, “the world has now existed for several thousand years, the notion that women have minds as cultivable and worth cultivating as men’s minds is still regarded by the ordinary British parent as an offensive, not to say a revolutionary, paradox.”

Dorothea Beale’s report, the one with which we are most concerned here, is very comprehensive, and gives not only her theories of education but also an account of the methods employed in her school. The questions asked give a good idea of the many questions that disturbed the minds of thoughtful people of that day; the anxiety lest higher education should injure the health of girls; the fear of the over-stimulating effects of examinations, of the publicity of examination results and of the possible effects on girls’ natural reserve and modesty.

In her reply to the various questions asked, Dorothea Beale gave a good deal of information about her own school and the condition of education it revealed. The Entrance Examination at Cheltenham showed as a rule deplorable results. Frequently girls came from expensive schools incapable of writing, spelling, or composing in their own language, almost ignorant of French grammar and scarcely able to work correctly the simplest sums in arithmetic.

“I think the remedy for bad work,” said she, “is to bring such work to the light. I think it is because it has all been carried on in darkness, because the parents are not able to distinguish between good and bad, and nobody knows that things have reached such a state.”

She then went into some particulars about the work at Cheltenham Ladies’ College, hours of work, the rule by personal influence rather than by punishments, the law of silence and her approval of examinations as leading to more thorough work. She also went into the reasons why she considered that women were better educators of girls than men, and ceteris paribus were quite equal to them as teachers. The education of boys at that time she considered to be rather unsatisfactory, and too limited in scope. She did not believe that boys and girls should be taught on absolutely different lines, as that would undoubtedly hinder friendship and camaraderie in marriage as well as in ordinary social intercourse.

On the question of health Miss Beale was most emphatic. She did not believe that study alone injured health, and in her belief she is more in sympathy with the thought of to-day than with that of twenty or thirty years ago. Examinations and study in the early days of higher education for women seemed to work a good deal of havoc with health. But when we look back in the light of modern thought much of the harm seems to have been wrought by unscientific arrangement of hours of work—it was considered heroic to “burn the midnight oil”; the eating of insufficient or unsuitable food; the undertaking of strenuous work by delicate girls unfit for hard work of any kind; and the lack of wholesome recreation.

When she was asked by Mr. Acland about the effect of eagerness in study on the health of girls about sixteen, she replied:—

“I think it improved their health very much, and I am sure great harm is often done by a hasty recommendation to throw aside all study when a temperate and wisely regulated mental diet is really required. They will not do nothing—you cannot say to the human mind that it shall absolutely rest; but if they have not wholesome and proper and unexciting occupations they will spend their time on sensational novels and things much more injurious to their health. When I have heard complaints about health being injured by study, they have proceeded from those who have done least work at college. Indeed I do not know of any case of a pupil who has really worked and whose health has been injured: we have had complaints in a few cases where the girls have been decidedly not industrious.”

The following emphatic statement expresses the opinion of most educationalists on the deplorable effect that “just going to live at home” has on the health of many girls. There are few things that teachers of senior girls dread more than an aimless life in a home where there are no responsibilities and no definite duties. There is no real reason, of course, why this should be so, as a girl of leisure at home has often opportunities of doing work that no one else can do; but many lack the energy and enterprise for seeking out such work, and are, in consequence, idle and miserable:—

“For one girl in the higher middle classes who suffers from overwork, there are, I believe, hundreds whose health suffers from the feverish love of excitement, from the irritability produced by idleness and frivolity and discontent. I am persuaded, and my opinion has been confirmed by experienced doctors, that the want of wholesome occupation lies at the root of much of the languid debility of which we hear so much after girls have left school.”

She also gave some account of her own methods of teaching. French and German were studied before Latin and Greek. In Geometry she always dealt with the propositions as riders, and employed methods which, twenty years later, became common in all schools. This was somewhat extraordinary at a time when many children, boys and girls alike, understood so little of what was required, that they learned the propositions by heart. Science was taught so as to create not specialists but human beings with an intelligent but general understanding of the phenomena of everyday life. It is interesting to read in a pamphlet published this year, 1919, by the Ministry of Reconstruction, that much of the present day lack of interest in Science is due to the lack of general training of this kind. Foundations are laid at school as if every man and every woman were going to be a scientist, and the average boy and girl leave school with a certain amount of skill in measuring and weighing, but with none of that illuminating general knowledge that makes the world so vastly interesting.

In religious teaching, “we try,” said Dorothea Beale, “to make our teaching practical as regards the daily duties of life upon which we are all agreed, instead of dwelling on points of doctrine wherein we differ”.

Dorothea Beale was always anxious to work in sympathy with parents, not in antagonism to their aims. She realised, as does every wise teacher, that parents see a quite different side of their children and was glad of any information that might be a help in understanding the child. She was very desirous that people should be frank with her if there was any cause of dissatisfaction with the school, and was most anxious to know if a child was at all overworked. Any complaint of this kind was at once dealt with, and if a child was overworked the remedy of dropping one or two subjects was usually applied.

Along with other educationalists of that day Miss Beale deplored the excessive amount of time given to the practice of the piano, complaining that it absorbed energies that ought to be used for the general culture of the mind. She suggested that no girl should give more than one hour a day to the piano, unless she had decided talent, that parents should cease to attach so exaggerated a value to this accomplishment, and that those who had a natural incapacity should be allowed to leave off music altogether.

Our generation is beginning at last to allow music for girls to take only its fair share of time along with other subjects and to train the mind and soul to appreciate rather than the hands merely to perform. We are beginning to realise that born musicians are few, though the need for music in life is universal. To train the ear to hear, the body to feel rhythm, is held to be more important than the mere technique of piano-playing.

CHAPTER VII.

GROWTH.

Men say the dreams of twenty-two

The winds of thirty shall undo....

We prove them liars, do we not?

Which of our dreams have we forgot?

—FRANK BETTS.

“At the end of five years’ hard struggle,” writes Dorothea Beale in 1863, “it was pleasant to read in the (Examiner’s) Report: ‘This examination has convinced us that the plan and working of this institution are admirable and calculated to supply a growing want in our community ... that of a real and solid higher education for ladies’.”

The year 1864 was a turbulent one. The Principal had long been dissatisfied with the college hours, feeling that they were most unsatisfactory for teachers and children. The new plan was to have school from 9.10 a.m. to 1 o’clock, thus increasing the length of morning school and having no school in the afternoon. This led to a great outcry in the town. The local papers condemned the innovation. Teachers who wanted a half-holiday every afternoon were said to be idle. Parents complained that the children would be on their hands all the afternoon and they would have to engage governesses. There was practically war between the local people and the College authorities. The Council and Dorothea Beale felt very strongly on this matter, realising indeed that the future of the school probably depended on the carrying out of their plans. A memorial signed by the shareholders and others was sent, and the Council replied that the plan would be tried for one term, at the end of which they would consult the wishes of the parents. So successful, however, was the scheme that at a General Meeting held at the end of the time mentioned, only eight voted in favour of the old régime. As every one knows, the plan which Dorothea Beale introduced against such strong opposition has since that time been adopted by every High School, and has in the main made for a higher standard of work, and better health, both in pupils and in teachers. A number of children, as a rule, go to school in the afternoon, but it is chiefly for preparation and lighter lessons, such as drawing and needlework.

By 1864, under Mr. Brancker’s careful administration, all anxiety about financial matters had come to an end. The Principal continued, however, to do much of the teaching herself, and the girls who were there at this time always reckoned themselves particularly fortunate that they came so directly under the influence of the Head. In later days this was, of course, impossible. All the classes were held in the big hall, but as soon as possible a schoolroom was provided for the lowest division. Dorothea Beale, as a rule, took her classes there, except very small ones which she often took in her own private rooms.

The strongholds of prejudice began to crumble. It became easier to teach Mathematics, Physics, etc., as a little of the old antagonism began to disappear and the number of the senior girls increased.

About this time she drew up her tabular scheme for learning English and World History. Many thought this system would bring a new era in the learning of dates, etc., but it does not seem to have been very generally adopted.

In these early days at Cheltenham Dorothea Beale was often distressed by gossip and back-biting. She was always particularly sensitive to this kind of thing, and her actions were at times subject to the criticism even of friends. But she gradually learnt to trouble less about outside adverse opinion, though she would never have been able to tolerate the least suspicion of criticism and disloyalty within the school. On one occasion an untrue rumour of a serious nature was set on foot against one of the boarding-house mistresses. Some in the College had listened to this rumour and the Principal spoke to the teachers on the subject.

“Now I have nothing to do to judge them that are without. We must cheerfully bear evil-speaking. But if it comes from within the matter is for that reason a serious one; for this reason I feel it must be traced up to its source.... I feel I can appeal to you as lovers of truth, as those who feel that no advantages of education, of health, or any other, can compensate for the disadvantages which would arise to any children who lived in an atmosphere of evil-speaking, lying, and slandering.”

More than most Heads, perhaps, Dorothea Beale had the gift of inspiring loyalty in her staff. As the College grew older the teachers were largely recruited from Old Girls. Some women there now, no longer young, have been at the College since childhood. It would be impossible to mention the number of teachers whose love and devotion to their Principal did much to ease her work and cheer her spirit. Perhaps of these none did more for her than the first Head Teacher whom she herself had trained. This was Miss Belcher, later Head of the great school at Bedford. She was in many ways of the greatest help to Miss Beale, not only in practical things but in her spiritual influence. In addressing the Head Mistresses’ Conference just before her death, Dorothea Beale spoke of some of the Heads of schools who had been trained at Cheltenham. Very affectionately she spoke of Miss Belcher, and told a story of her great loyalty to the College.

Miss Belcher and another teacher, at a time when headships were very rare, came to her and told her that they had determined to apply for one. Miss Beale said, “Events are imminent which will shake the College to its very foundations”. They said, “We shall not apply”.

Her early days at Cheltenham were very full, so much so that her father wrote in a teasing spirit:—

“You always write as if you were at the top of your speed, and this is not good. I doubt not you have a great deal to occupy your time and your attention, but pray do not be always in a hurry, you will inevitably break down if you are so—you will lose in power what you gain in speed as certainly as in mechanics: and with greater danger to the regularity of the machine.... I am really fearful to take up your time.... I daresay now that you are scrambling through my note without that respect to which the writer and the subject are entitled. But pray remember that to neglect (the care of your health) is the worst economy in the world.”

In 1862 Dorothea Beale had the great sorrow of her father’s death, an event which left a great blank in her life.

Holidays at this time were spent partly at Cheltenham, partly abroad. When on the Continent she visited schools and gained new ideas for her work. For, to her, life and work were one. Nearly everything she did bore directly or indirectly on the one purpose of her life. It is impossible to enter into the spirit of her life unless one realises this singleness of aim. No nun, bound to her vocation by holy vows, could be more dedicated than was Dorothea Beale to the great work of education. It was to her the call of the Master to forsake all and follow Him.

This spirit in her expressed itself in many ways; in her simplicity of life, which she maintained always. Her way of living was always plain, as was her style of dress. In later life she dressed more grandly, but this was forced upon her by others who felt she ought to do so, and was not the expression of her own wishes. When she went to Cheltenham, she decided for the sake of her work not to go out in the evenings. I believe, as a matter of fact, that it was quite easy to keep this resolution, as Cheltenham society was extremely “exclusive” at that time, and was not sufficiently assured of the social position of women teachers to invite them out to anything except perhaps a quiet tea.

Dorothea Beale had very little small talk, and was too quietly thoughtful to be a great success socially. She was quite content to go on steadily with her teaching, her careful preparation of lessons, her painstaking correction of the children’s work, her thoughts and plans for wider work, all of which were slowly but surely laying the foundations of a new intellectual world for women. One of the ideas which she was never able to carry out was that of a Sisterhood of Teachers, consisting of a band of teachers who should live frugal, self-denying lives in a Community under a Mother Superior. These should have no personal possessions, but should live, as nuns do, a life devoted to their vocation. Later in life she became less anxious for such a Sisterhood, believing that the inward spirit of consecration could exist equally well without the outward and visible signs of devotion.

In our day we urge the necessity of having interests outside our special calling; to have hobbies, games, or a different kind of work which will be recreative; to have, as it were, in our brain several lines of rails to prevent the chief one from getting worn out. But though we have become more scientific in the management of life the main fact remains the same, that the work to which we are called is a stern mistress and will demand our whole-hearted service.

Growth is rarely a painless process, and Dorothea Beale felt that some of her greatest difficulties began after the College entered on its period of rapid development. By the year 1871, it had grown too big for Cambray House, and a site for a new building was purchased for the sum of £800. This purchase had to be endorsed by the Annual Meeting of Shareholders in June, but this was considered a mere formality. A good many shareholders, however, were interested in the Cambray property, and the meeting decided not to ratify the purchase but to re-sell the land. This was a great shock to the Council and the Principal, who knew the need for having bigger and better premises, and the Council announced their intention of resigning.

A special General Meeting was called for September 30. At this meeting Dr. Jex-Blake, the Principal of Cheltenham College, who was in the chair, pleaded most eloquently the cause of the Ladies’ College. I will quote part of his speech as showing something of the esteem in which the College was held at this date.

“Teachers so able and energetic and successful,” said he, “have a right to the greatest consideration and the very best arrangements for teaching. A Ladies’ College so distinguished, second to none in England, has a right to every advantage that can be secured for it: a right to be lodged in a building of its own: a building perfect in its internal arrangements, and outwardly of some architectural attractiveness: one that should be a College and should look like a College.”

At this meeting those who desired extension carried the day, and soon the erection of the new buildings was begun. On Lady Day, 1873, the College moved into the new building. So quietly and unobtrusively was this done, that hardly a single half-hour of lessons was lost. Many extensions followed, including the addition of art and music wings, and kindergarten rooms. Those who were at the College in those days were familiar with the continual noise of building; in 1882 it ceased: “after this the sound of the hammer was not heard for nearly four years.” Dorothea Beale’s policy of building was a sound one: it was to plan for extensions long before they were necessary, but to build little by little as the premises were needed and money was ready for the purpose.

About this time many questions arose that had to be settled once and for all. One was whether the College was to be simply a local day school, or an institution for the furthering of women’s higher education generally: another was the government of the College and the defining of the Principal’s powers: a third was whether the boarding-houses should become an intrinsic part of the College. Around all these questions storms arose and the Principal began to feel that in leaving Cambray House she had left behind her peace and happiness.

The College was finally incorporated under the Companies’ Acts, and the government of it revised and radically altered. The Principal’s powers were more clearly defined, and the Council decided to take over full responsibility for the boarding-houses.

About this last decision she wrote to her friend, Miss Arnold, the headmistress of the Truro High School:—

“I think I told you that after many years, I have prevailed upon our Council to take the whole risk of the boarding-houses—the pecuniary risk is of course very great, and in case of war or sudden depression I don’t exactly see how we should meet it, but one must have risks and we find the moral risks of not taking pecuniary ones so great that we decided for the latter—and indeed we had to pay pretty considerable sums in law expenses and to get rid of unjust claims too. We could not prove that these ladies had not lost money, if they said they had—and if they were bad managers they did perhaps lose—and an outcry was raised that we ruined poor ladies.”

Of her attitude towards a Principal’s position and powers, part of a letter from Miss Buss to Miss Ridley gives some idea.

“I had a long and grave talk with Miss Beale, who counsels fight, but not on any personal ground. She says: ‘Resign if there is interference with the mistress’s liberty of action. That is a public question and one of public interest.’ She was so good and loving: she was so tender: and she is so wise and calm. She told me some of her own worries and said that sometimes she quivered in every nerve at her own Council meetings.”

At the end of these various controversies it was realised that the College could not be a merely local institution, but had a great future before it, and was destined to play a very important part in the higher education of women from every part of the country.

I must not close this chapter without giving a brief account of the much-loved Cambray House, in which the Ladies’ College started. For a time after the College left it was a boys’ school, but in 1889, Miss Beale had the chance of re-purchasing it for £2,000 and using it as a boarding-house and overflow school for girls awaiting admission to the College. In 1895 it was enlarged, and in 1897 the Principal, by Deed of Gift, made it over to the College, though she still ran it on her own account. Not until 1906 was it actually reckoned part of the College. This is only one of the many instances of how Dorothea Beale spent or invested her own money for the growth and welfare of the College.

CHAPTER VIII.

WORK OF LOVE.

“The fellowship we long for is one in which men shall be themselves as well as fellows to each other, in which each shall know his own desire, and there shall be a harmony among them because of a holy concord in their desires.”—CLUTTON BROCK.

In the year 1880, the College Magazine was started under the editorship of Dorothea Beale, who remained its editor until her death in 1906. Nor was she only the editor, but a very frequent contributor: many of her articles which may be seen collected in book form first appeared in the Cheltenham Ladies’ College Magazine. The contributors were chiefly old pupils, though Dorothea Beale sometimes sought contributions from writers outside College circles. Shortly after the magazine was started it became a vehicle for news of old pupils, and was a means of binding past and present students together. It is interesting to see in old College Magazines the names of those who are now well-known in the literary world—Beatrice Harraden and others.

The year 1883 was what the pupils called Miss Beale’s “Silver Wedding”: as she had then been twenty-five years at the College. The Old Girls were anxious to give her a present on that occasion, and the Principal asked that they should give something to the College. The gift took the form of a beautiful organ, to be placed in the First Division Room—the largest hall at that time—above the Principal’s daïs.

The meeting of Old Girls was fixed for July 6 and 7. Less than a month before it, Dorothea Beale had the sorrow of losing her great friend, Mrs. Owen. She went on, as was her wont, with the preparations for the “silver wedding” assembly, quietly and calmly, not letting her own private griefs intrude on her public duties.

The Principal received her guests at eight o’clock on Friday evening. About a thousand old pupils were present. To many of them the building was quite new, and they were charmed with the beauty of it, decorated for the occasion by flowers and plants everywhere.

On the Saturday morning she had a large breakfast party, and prayers were held in the great hall. It must have been a thrilling experience for Dorothea Beale to hear for the first time so many of her Old Girls sing, “O God, our help in ages past,” to the accompaniment of the new organ. After prayers she gave an address, chiefly on music. She spoke first of the different kinds of music, the noble and the ignoble, the lofty and the base: the music which, like the song of the lotus-eaters, lulls us to forget all sense of duty, and obligation to home and kindred, and that which arouses all our highest powers. She spoke then of the different music of life, of nature, of faith, of every human soul.

The end of this speech expressed an idea that had been in her mind for a long time, that of forming a guild of former pupils. The fundamental aims of the Guild would be to bind old students to their Alma Mater: to keep them, by means of the magazine and Old Girls’ meetings, in touch with one another: to enable them to help one another: and perhaps by and by to take up some corporate work.

This suggestion of an Old Pupils’ Association was taken up at once, and a meeting was fixed for the following year.

A year later the Guild was established. The daisy had been chosen as the emblem of the Guild and a brooch had been devised, the design combining the flower and the monogram of the College. The guests were welcomed on Tuesday evening, July 8, 1884, and on Wednesday morning after prayers Dorothea Beale gave the inaugural address of the Guild. Her outlook on life was essentially that of the devout poet, who sees in the visible world the signs and symbols of spiritual truths. To her, the daisy, the emblem of the Guild, was full of suggestion. She dealt with allusions to the daisy in our poets, explaining why they loved this little humble flower. She spoke of its sturdy independence—“You never see it turning towards other flowers: it can only look up”. She took the independence of the daisy as a symbol of the friendship of middle and later life, the friendship which means little direct intercourse, only the consciousness of a union in spirit and a looking towards the same ends.

“We have chosen the daisy as our emblem, the single eye, the true sunflower, the real heliotrope that stands ever gazing upward. It is changed into an image of the sun himself: it is like a censer ever burning towards heaven, a speck of heavenly beauty, a star come down to brighten the dark places of the earth.”

The Guild meetings were held every second year, and were a source of great pleasure, interest, and inspiration to those who had known Dorothea Beale as Principal.

“She had a wonderful memory,” writes one of her former pupils, “for her Old Girls, especially for those who, like me, belonged to the old days of Cambray House, and could remember the excitement and delight of going into the new building. I shall never forget the warmth of her greeting at that last Guild or how at the ‘At Home’ in the evening she stopped me in the corridor to say, ‘I was told that all five C——’s were here, and I have only seen four. Where is M——?’ I believe that there were about 1200 Old Girls there, and to think of her keeping count like that of those whom she had seen was simply amazing.”

Pupils of a later date, who thought Dorothea Beale had hardly known them at College, were often astonished to find that their old Principal not only knew them, but remembered incidents of their College days, or events which happened afterwards.

An older girl and her sister were both sent to College and the latter left from the third division because her people left Cheltenham; but her elder sister, Gertrude, stayed on and eventually joined the Guild. Years after the younger one met the Principal and went up to speak to her and, never thinking that she could possibly remember her, meant to explain who she was. But before she could do so Miss Beale, on seeing her, began without any preliminaries: “Why has your sister left the Guild?”

In the year 1876 Miss Margaret Newman had made an offer to Dorothea Beale that she would start a boarding-house for students who wished to become teachers and found it difficult to obtain the necessary training. She offered to pay £75 a year towards expenses, and in addition to give her time and services. This involved a good deal of strain and work, as it meant living in a small house with only one maid, and having in addition the responsibility of the girl students. At the end of one year Miss Newman became ill and died after a short illness. Those who knew her felt that death had been hastened by the devoted work for which she had hardly had sufficient strength. Her work, however, was not ended. In the brief space of one year Miss Newman had won such love and affection for herself and such sympathy with her noble object that people felt her work must go on. It was this strong feeling which made Dorothea Beale depart from her usual plan of not asking for money. As soon as she asked, £1200 was immediately given, half of it by the College staff.

“She had left,” said Dorothea Beale, “a legacy of £100 to carry it on, and, as has been mentioned, further sums were given by friends, and about £600 by the College staff. The number of students had steadily increased, and it was determined by the trustees in whom the management was vested to build a residential college and trust to the small profits each year gradually to pay off the debt thereby incurred. They therefore purchased the site on Bayshill, and arrangements were made for the erection of the building to designs prepared by Mr. Middleton. Cheltenham was one of the first colleges to establish training for Secondary Teachers. After much thought it was decided to call the new hall of residence St. Hilda’s.

“St. Hilda’s,” said she, “seemed a particularly appropriate ideal for our students. She was consecrated by Bishop Aidan and made Head of the most important house of education of her day. She had, Bede tells us, been diligently instructed by learned men and she was the patron of our earliest poet, Caedmon. She insisted much that those under her direction should attend to the reading of the Holy Scriptures. She taught the strict observance of justice and other virtues, particularly of peace and charity.”

On November 27, 1885, the building was formally opened. A beautiful statue of St. Hilda was presented by a brother of some old pupils. She holds in her hand the Vulgate open at the words “Videmus nunc per speculum in aenigmate: tune autem facie ad faciem. Nunc cognosco ex parte: tunc autem cognoscam sicut et cognitus sum” (1 Cor. xiii. 12). Over the door are the words of Plato, χαλεπὰ τὰ καλά. On the study walls are these texts—“Shew Thy servants Thy work and their children Thy glory”: “Knowledge puffeth up, charity buildeth up”: “Let nothing be done through strife or vain-glory”.

Seven years later another Saint Hilda’s was established, this time at Oxford.

Dorothea Beale had for long years realised the enormous advantage to students of living for a time in the atmosphere of the older Universities. She thought that a time at Oxford or Cambridge could give to a student, who had already begun her teaching career, inspiration and mental stimulus that nothing else could give. Her idea was that they should have a year for general reading, rather than for examination work, though those who wished to take examinations should be allowed to do so.

In 1892, Miss Beale purchased from Dr. Child, Cowley House, Oxford, a beautifully situated house, overlooking Christ Church meadows. The work was begun in October, 1893, there being at that time seven students with Mrs. Burrows as Principal. It was formally opened on November 6, the mid-term holiday of Cheltenham Ladies’ College, and many of the staff and pupils went to the opening ceremony.

St. Hilda’s work was soon extended in another direction, not indeed along Dorothea Beale’s lines, though she was too wise to offer any opposition. In the year 1888 a meeting of the Guild was held, and the proposal was made that it should take up some definite outside work. There were several proposals, but an overwhelming majority of the Guild decided on the plan of starting a settlement in the East End of London. As a result of this decision Mayfield House, close to Bethnal Green, was taken by the Committee. Dorothea Beale was greatly disappointed and did not conceal the fact. At a General Guild Meeting in alluding to this subject she said:—

“I trust we shall be able to try to win harmony out of notes not altogether concordant. Some of us come with a feeling of disappointment that the scheme we desired has been rejected—I am one of these. I not only accept my defeat, I feel sure that you have sought guidance of that inward oracle which must ever be our supreme rule, you have done what conscience bade and so it is right. As regards my own scheme, I only allude to it to say that, having now to continue it single-handed, I cannot help you as much as I could wish, and I just refer to it to-day in the hope that you will remember it when I am no longer here.”

After some years of work at Mayfield House a house was built specially for the Guild settlement close to Shoreditch Church. The latter was opened in 1895. The Guild took up this task in the East End with great enthusiasm, and many of the members were willing to sacrifice time and money to help on the work they had undertaken.

Dorothea Beale seems never to have taken kindly to charitable work. She had a great horror of the demoralisation caused by the giving of “doles”. Many of her friends thought that she realised little of the suffering and demoralisation caused by extreme poverty. After a time she became much more interested in the Guild settlement, realising what a valuable centre it formed for training young workers. It was this aspect of the work rather than its charitable purpose that appealed to her most strongly. All through her life she touched with a very doubtful hand enterprises connected with giving to individuals. She felt very strongly that the effect was in almost every case demoralising. When free meals for necessitous school children were introduced, she was very much concerned about them, dreading the weakening of parental responsibility. She knew little of the poor, however, and of the evil effects of poverty itself, and was in consequence less harassed by doubts than those of us who see these social problems following one another in an endless vicious circle. In this connection one might mention that she never cared much for scholarships, though as time went on she accepted one or two for the College, and she herself founded one at Casterton School. She preferred to lend money to those who wished for training which they could not afford. During her time at Cheltenham she lent money to many students: it had to be returned when the student began to earn money, and in hardly any cases did the student fail to do so. She felt very strongly that people value much more highly that for which they have to struggle, and had an almost morbid dread of the demoralising effect of charity on character.

CHAPTER IX.

INTERESTS, HONOURS, AND A JOURNEY.

“Glory of Virtue, to fight, to struggle to right the wrong.

Nay, but she aimed not at glory, no lover of glory she:

Give her the glory of going on and still to be.”

—TENNYSON.

Those who are called to a great work often pass through times of darkness, during which they lose for a time their vision of the eternal realities which have meant everything to them. Dorothea Beale about the middle of her work at Cheltenham passed through such an experience. With weak health and clouded faith she strove, however, to live in the spirit of Matthew Arnold’s lines—

Tasks in hours of insight willed

May be through hours of gloom fulfilled,

and only a few intimate friends knew what she suffered at this time.

A few extracts from her journal at this time show something of the ups and downs of her illness, and the courage with which she fought what at first she did not realise to be illness. Her diary of 1878 contains many such entries as:—

February 26.—I have idled away precious time, neglected individual work. Because my own will is weak I could not strengthen [another].

February 27.—In bed all day. There are duties still undone though I see death near.

February 28.—Not in college. Much time wasted and [I was] disobedient to the voice of duty.

March 15.—A little more work for my children to-day. I thank Thee for some help. May I consecrate time and energies to Thee.

April 5.—Tried, but not successfully, with my Confirmation children. Feeling too ill to do well. Thy Will be done.

In 1882 she passed through a time of great darkness and depression, but she finally won through as one of her indomitable spirit was bound to do.

When this experience had passed Dorothea Beale had changed. Her religion had become more spiritual; her knowledge of other souls more intimate; her desire to help those passing through similar experiences, intense. One of the immediate results of her time of difficulty was the starting of Quiet Days or Retreats for teachers at Cheltenham at the end of the summer term, alternatively with the biennial Guild meetings. To her, a teacher’s work was first and foremost spiritual; and she realised the need of times of refreshment and re-establishment in the faith for those who are continually “giving out”. The Quiet Days she established proved a great help to many teachers from all parts, and her letters to old pupils and others passing through times of difficulty reveal a great insight only given by personal experience.

To her friend, Miss Belcher, she wrote:—

“We were all so full of hope at first and are much disappointed that relief has not come; ... I think, perhaps, you may be specially suffering 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.”

To another she wrote:—

“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.”

The mediatorial and purifying purpose of suffering is an idea frequently found in her writing. The South African War was a great burden on her mind. In 1900 she wrote:—

“It is difficult to keep up one’s active powers with this nightmare; one is so sure that all suffering is intended to be purifying and we must glorify God in the fires.”

Dorothea Beale always had a great objection to desultory work, and though she of necessity touched many interests wider than those of Cheltenham, she kept the main part of her time and strength for her own particular work. Her association with various enterprises was always greatly valued, and her work and influence were felt to be a great help. Some of the educational work in which she was specially interested and took a part was represented by the Head-Mistresses’ Association, the Teachers’ Guild, the Froebel Society, the Child Study Association, the Parents’ National Union, and Sunday Schools. She would send delegates from the College to consider any new educational system. A local institution that always claimed her sympathy was a Working Men’s College started at Cheltenham and greatly helped by her friends, Mr. and Mrs. Owen. She read a paper there on one occasion, on self-support and self-government.

“I do not think there are many,” she said, “belonging to this College, who could not pay a few shillings annually. Self-denial adds value to energy.... Everybody does not agree with me. Some think you will misunderstand—think we do not want to help. I do not think you will; to judge by my own feelings I like to be independent.”

Then she spoke of the early difficulties at the Ladies’ College and the lack of money during her first years there.

“I am quite sure,” she went on, “that our College would not have been what it is if we had had money to fall back upon. I might myself have left the helm and gone to sit quietly in the cabin while the vessel drifted on to the rocks.”

Dorothea Beale kept throughout life a youthfulness of outlook which made her able to enthuse over things that strongly attracted her attention and interest. One day some one brought to her on a lily-leaf a dragon-fly emerging from the pupa. To her mind, as to Mrs. Gatty’s, this became a symbol of the resurrection. All that summer the college heard much of the thought it had suggested, and many were the “transformations” witnessed. She wrote a paper—“Is Death the End?” and wanted to read it at a little mission maintained by her friends, Mr. and Mrs. Owen. They would not allow her to do so, though she was perfectly sure she would be able to interest the poor people. This reminds the writer of a similar incident. A lady had given what she believed to be a thrilling lecture on the dragon-fly to a number of East End girls. They listened most attentively and seemed greatly interested. But the lecturer’s self-satisfaction received something of a shock when at the end she heard one girl say to another in a very Cockney accent, “Why, it’s nothing but a fly, after all!” Probably Mr. and Mrs. Owen were right.

Dorothea Beale was not directly interested in missionary work until the year 1883, when Pundita Ramabai was sent by the Wantage Sisters to study at Cheltenham College. Under her influence she studied Hindu religion and philosophy, and became greatly concerned about the condition of widows in India. When Ramabai established her Home for Widows at Mukti, Dorothea Beale became a regular and large subscriber. Among her papers was found an appeal evidently intended to reach the minds of educated Hindus.

“My heart,” she wrote, “is stirred by sorrow and pity for those suffering widows of India; but there are some whom I pity more—those who inflict the sorrow on them, since it is far better to suffer than to do wrong.... But what grieves me, too, is the thought of the waste of all that wonderful amount of energy and life that God has given your country-women in order to bless others.

“If the men of India believe in God’s goodness and wisdom, as I think they must, even though they may not trust Him, they must think He has not made all those widows to be a burden and a misery to themselves and others, but to do good work. What mistakes people make when they think they are wiser than God.

“I can remember when ‘Old Maid’ was a term of contempt in England, but it is not so now; you have seen me and sixty old maids working together happy and content, and if I could send out a hundred women where I can now send one, I should not have too many, so constant are the demands for ‘old maids,’ as you would call them—for teachers, nurses, missionaries, and all sorts of good work.... India will some time feel all that her wasted women’s life can do.”

With regard to missionary work for girls, she was always afraid lest the glamour and romance of it should tempt them away from obvious duties at home.

Dorothea Beale, perhaps because of her early acquaintance with Mrs. Lancaster’s work, was always ready to support any agencies for the protection of girls and women. As far back as ’86 she wrote:—

“I would ... urge the formation of a body of women-policemen who could safely do work which could not be undertaken by men-policemen or clergymen. These should undertake to watch over registries for women, shops where women work, to establish labour registers themselves and take care that women were not paid starvation wages; to enter (under protection) suspected houses; to watch railway stations, shops,” etc.

She was always anxious for the vote to be granted to women, knowing that many reforms were impossible without it. She was saddened by Mr. Balfour’s Education Bill of 1902, feeling that by the abolition of School Boards on which women had been well represented, the cause of the vote had received a serious “set-back”.

Many other causes received her sympathy and financial help. Agnes Weston’s work among sailors always appealed to her, as did also all efforts to set discharged prisoners on their feet again. She had, too, a warm spot in her heart for sufferers of her own class, impoverished women teachers and other workers.

Dorothea Beale never cared much for prizes. She felt that the work ought to be done for the work’s sake, as it indeed was at Cheltenham. There were prizes given on the examination results and standards reached, but these were simply fetched by the prize-winners from the secretary’s room at the beginning of the next term. No emphasis was laid upon them and they were rather an acknowledgment of good work than something to be striven for.

The College itself did little to attract public attention. It had no speech-day to draw celebrities to it, and went on year after year unnoticed save by those associated with it, and those who had a real interest in education.

In the eighties, however, outside people began to honour the College in various ways. John Ruskin was one of the first to do so, by presenting it with some beautiful old manuscripts and printed books. He often criticised the College Magazine. On one occasion he hurt the editor deeply by criticising the verses of a dear friend. To her protest he replied:—

“DEAR MISS BEALE,

“I am grieved very deeply to have written what I did of your dead friend’s verses. If you knew how full my own life has been of sorrow, how every day of it begins with a death-knell, you would bear with me in what I will yet venture to say to you as the head of a noble school of women’s thought, that no personal feelings should ever be allowed to influence you in what you permit your scholars either to read or to publish.”

And again, a little later:—

“DEAR MISS BEALE,

“So many thanks, and again and again I ask your pardon for the pain I gave you. I had no idea of the kind of person you were, I thought you were merely clever and proud.

“These substituted verses are lovely.

“Ever gratefully yours,

“J. R.”

In 1889 and 1900, the Ladies’ College won gold medals for its educational exhibits at the Paris Exhibitions. In 1894 Dorothea Beale was called to give evidence before another Royal Commission for inquiring into the condition of girls’ schools. In 1897, the Empress Frederick visited the college, and in 1899 Princess Henry of Battenberg, the latter to unveil a marble bust of Queen Victoria.

In the year 1898 there was an outbreak of smallpox in England. It was particularly bad in Gloucestershire, and five times it broke out in Cheltenham.

“Cheltenham,” says Mrs. Raikes, “largely owed its immunity to the exertions of the Lady Principal, who insisted on re-vaccination where it was necessary for every one connected with the college. This meant not only teachers, pupils, servants, but all who had to do with any college girl in any capacity—all in the homes of the day-pupils—all in the shops which served the boarding-houses—the whole railway staff at the different stations. The College custom was too good to lose and she carried her point. Such a drastic measure had its comic side, as was perceived by the saucy butcher boy, who shouted to a boarding-house cook, “I must know if you are vaccinated before I deliver this meat”.

The father of a girl who had an important examination in a few weeks refused to allow her to be vaccinated. The Head refused to keep her, and a cab was actually at the door to take her away when a telegram came from the girl’s father—“May do as she pleases”—which took away the necessity for the cab.

For personal honours Dorothea Beale cared not at all, but she valued them because they reflected glory on the College. Towards the end of her life many honours were bestowed upon her. She was greatly honoured at the International Congresses of Education held in Paris in 1889. Later she was made Officier de l’Académie, and in 1890, the Société des Professeurs de Langues Vivantes held its meeting at Cheltenham. Durham University next conferred upon her the distinction of Tutor in Letters. In 1898 she was elected a Corresponding Member of the National Educational Association, U.S.A. An honour unusual for a woman was conferred on Dorothea Beale, in 1901, when she received the freedom of the Borough of Cheltenham. In the words of the Town Council resolution it was decreed:—

“That in recognition of the great work she has done for the education of women in England, and especially of the unique position to which under her direction the Cheltenham Ladies’ College has attained among the educational institutions of the country, Miss Dorothea Beale be, in pursuance and exercise of the Honorary Freedom of the Boroughs’ Act, 1885, admitted to the Honorary Freedom of this Borough.”

Dorothea Beale in her reply said:—

“To invite a woman to be a Freeman of a town is, I venture to believe, an expression of the thought that not the individual, but the family with its twofold life, is the true unit and type of the State, that social and civil and national prosperity depend on the communion of labour, and that the ideal commonwealth is realised only in proportion as the dream of one of our poets is fulfilled, and men and women

‘Walk this world

Yoked in all exercise of noble ends.’”

Shortly after this she was co-opted a member of the Advisory Board of the University of London.

The highest honour Dorothea Beale received came in 1902. It was an invitation from the University of Edinburgh to receive the LL.D. degree. Her students and staff were delighted, and the latter determined to present her with her robes. These were the most beautiful and costly they could procure. The degree was conferred in the McEwan Hall of the University. Others who received the degree at the same time were the Lord Chief Justice of England (Lord Alverstone), Mr. Asquith, Mr. Austin Dobson, Sir John Batty Tuke, and Dr. Rucker, Principal of the University of London. Only once before had the University conferred this honour on a woman.

Sir Ludovic Grant in summing up Dorothea Beale’s claim to a national recognition gave an excellent epitome of her work:—

“No feature of the national progress during the last fifty years is more remarkable than the revolution which has transformed our girls’ schools from occidental zenanas into centres of healthy activity. In the great crusade which has been crowned with this most desirable consummation the foremost champion was the cultured and intrepid lady who guides the destinies of the Ladies’ College, Cheltenham. It was largely due to Miss Beale’s indomitable advocacy on platform and on paper, that the barriers of parental prejudice were broken down, that the ancient idols, venerated by a former generation—Mangnall, Pinnock, and Lindley Murray—were shattered, and that barren catechism and lifeless epitome were compelled to give place to fructifying studies, and the futile promenade to invigorating recreations. I need not remind you that Miss Beale’s apostolic ardour is equalled by her administrative abilities. When she went to Cheltenham her pupils were counted by tens: to-day they are to be counted by hundreds, and the institution in respect of organisation and educational efficiency will bear comparison with the best of the great English public schools. Among the collateral benefits resulting from the great movement for the higher education of women, in which Miss Beale has played so conspicuous a part, not the least important is the power which the Scotch Universities have obtained of conferring their honorary degrees upon women, and therefore it is with no ordinary satisfaction that the University of Edinburgh now exercises this power by begging Miss Beale’s acceptance of an honour which has been brought within the reach of her sex largely through her own endeavours.”

She wrote to the Vice-Principal a delightful account of the ceremony, which she seems to have thoroughly enjoyed.

“I am persuaded,” said she, “that my robes were far superior to any other.” From Edinburgh she went to Glasgow where she found herself in the midst of “Old Girls”.

“We are often in spirit in Cheltenham,” wrote she, “and I must send you a few last words to wish you all very happy holidays.... On Monday a large number of distinguished people were invited to meet us, and yesterday afternoon we had a party of about thirty Cheltonians. In the evening we dined with Professor and Mrs. George Adam Smith. I sat next to Professor Jones, who has written a book on Browning, and on the other side was the Rector, Dr. Story.... I think we shall come back refreshed and with some new ideas.”

She went from Glasgow to stay with other old pupils in Scotland, then to Newcastle, where she was asked to launch a ship. She evidently thought this would be a very damp proceeding and arrived in india-rubber shoes and a dress thoroughly looped up. “Much as she disliked adventure,” says Mrs. Raikes, “she was prepared to march into the Tyne if the glory of the Ladies’ College demanded it.”

This three weeks’ tour she thoroughly enjoyed, and came back refreshed and strengthened and warmed in heart by the love and kindness of her “Old Girls” and the appreciation shown her everywhere.

In the autumn of 1902 she was compelled to give up work for a time. Her sight was causing anxiety and she was not allowed either to read or to write. Miss Berridge went with her to Bath and wrote of their life together:—

“We brought with us Adam Smith’s work on the “Minor Prophets” and also Jane Austen’s “Persuasion”. At first we stuck to the “Prophets,” but at last Jane got a hearing and since then she has utterly ousted the “Prophets”. It has been rather amusing to note how many excellent reasons there were for giving Jane the preference. Miss Beale was—tired—or sleepy—or not very well and could not attend to anything that required thought, or it was near lunch—or tea—or supper-time and therefore it was not worth while, etc., etc., and I think she has really liked the story very much.... Miss Beale is very much better, though of course far from being her former energetic self. But we have still more than a fortnight before us and if she makes as much progress in that time as she has done in the fortnight just gone, we may be very well satisfied.”

She recovered wonderfully and was back at her work at the end of term. But from this time she seems to have realised the need for greater care of her health and the next summer she took a “Kur” at Oeynhausen.

It was about this time that those who knew and loved Dorothea Beale began to realise that some day the great Head would be removed and that there was no worthy memorial of her: no portrait which would remind her “children” of their school mother, and would speak to future generations of the Foundress to whom they owed so much.

The Council first approached her through their chairman, Sir Samuel Johnson. She suggested in reply that Miss Stirling, who had a modelling class at the College, should model her portrait in clay or terra-cotta.

After this the Council’s request took the form of a resolution. To this Dorothea Beale replied that she had a very great objection to a portrait of herself being hung up during her life: that it would use up funds needed for improvements in the College, and that it would give people an exaggerated idea of the work that she had been allowed to do for the College.

Again she suggested that Miss Stirling should make a model in clay, which could be executed in stone by Mr. Martyn.

The final appeal was made by the Guild meeting of 1902, after which Dorothea Beale surrendered, and allowed her portrait to be painted by Mr. J. J. Shannon. In her reply to those who were so desirous of having a worthy memorial of their revered and loved Principal, she said:—

“The unbiassed artist represents his subject as she is, not as she seems to be to those who are good enough to overlook her defects and love her in spite of them.”

Whilst the Principal was sitting for Mr. Shannon, various friends read aloud to her. “Lorna Doone” was one of the books. It “amused the painter,” Dorothea Beale said.

The portrait, a very attractive one, was presented by the Duchess of Bedford on November 8, 1904. In Dorothea’s Beale’s reply, she said that she looked on the desire for a portrait as one not for a person but for a Principal, a representative who would live on long after the person had passed away. The illuminated book containing the names of the donors she looked upon as a personal gift.

The College Jubilee celebrations were held in May, 1905. Lord Londonderry opened a large new wing for science teaching, and well-known people spoke at this gathering, which was the only public Commemoration the college had had.

CHAPTER X.

SOME CHARACTERISTICS AND IDEAS.

“Universal History ... is at bottom, the History of the Great Men who have worked here.”—CARLYLE.

Dorothea Beale is one of the few people to whom we can apply the adjective great. As one reads the story of her life this quality is very clearly marked. She was great in her thoughts, great in her plans, great in her deeds. It is impossible to define greatness, but it is a quality that is easily recognisable by those who have the power to see.

She had a well-balanced brain, an extremely desirable possession in an educationalist. Whether she would have done superlatively good work in one subject, had she specialised, it is impossible to say, but she certainly did extremely good work in many subjects—History, Mathematics, Philosophy, Languages—to mention only a few. Such all-round capacity is very valuable in a Head Mistress, as it enables her to judge fairly the teaching that is being given in almost every subject. Intellectually she was abnormally active: rest was to her an impossibility, and up to the end of her life she kept this marvellous mental energy. The amount of work she was able to do was prodigious: her administrative duties, her teaching, her literary essays—she wrote a considerable amount—her vast correspondence, implied a mass of work that few people could get through. Her great powers made it rather difficult for her to understand people of limited capacity, though she tried to do so. Dorothea Beale was a great organiser. Teachers who went to the Ladies’ College from other schools were amazed at the perfect organisation, and were greatly impressed by the way in which Dorothea Beale kept in touch with everything. She was like a centre to which were attached invisible wires from every girl and every teacher. One of her leading ideas was to work through her staff. She knew she could accomplish infinitely more with their sympathy and help than by trying to do things herself. A piece of advice she frequently offered to her teachers was to get others to do anything they could, so as to leave their own energies for the essential part of their work, the part that no one else could do. The doctrine of conservation of energy she preached much to her staff. She dreaded for them the exhausting effect of even too much enthusiasm. Holidays, she said, were to be used for the refreshment of body, mind, and soul: and she advised them to avoid anything that might impair their health.

Her humour was subtle and not always understood. She frequently said most humorous things with a perfectly grave face, so that people who did not understand her often quoted her jokes to prove her lack of humour. One day she said to the girls that she believed her friend, Mr. X., always made a plan of learning poetry while he shaved, and she commended it to them as a practice they should all immediately follow!

As life went on, I believe, Dorothea Beale became rather unpractical in personal matters, and when she had to do things for herself did them with difficulty. Happily she usually had some one to look after her.

“I had a great deal of talk with her,” wrote one of her Old Girls, “at one of the Head Mistresses’ Conferences, and I remember her giving me such an amusing account of her attempts to blow up an air-cushion for herself, that we both laughed until the tears ran down our faces.”

At the age of sixty-seven Dorothea Beale took to cycling. At first she attempted a bicycle, but this was somewhat difficult at that advanced age, so she took the advice of her friends and rode, instead, a tricycle. Most mornings about seven o’clock she was to be seen riding along the Cheltenham streets. “The milkmen know how to keep out of my way,” she used laughingly to say. The tricycle was a source of great pleasure to her, as it enabled her to get out easily and quickly into quiet country, where she could enjoy the beauty and solitude of nature.

Her writing became rather illegible, though in youth it was good. There is a story told of her which sounds to me rather the kind of anecdote that is applied to different people in succession. After a Scripture class a girl received back a written exercise with a remark by Dorothea Beale at the end. The girl gazed at the remark, looking at it in every possible way, but could not decipher it. The book was handed round the class, but no one could read the red-ink hieroglyphics. Finally some genius hit on the interpretation—“Write legibly!”

The living monument of Dorothea Beale’s work is a testimony to her greatness of soul, her patience and her power to wait. Yet, curiously enough, she was in smaller things often very impetuous: sometimes she forgot decisions made hastily and difficulties ensued.

All her life Dorothea Beale had to fight against extreme sensitiveness and shyness. She, who never shrank from any duty, however difficult, often shrank from the society of those who might be unsympathetic, and was sorely wounded by adverse criticism. Yet in a larger sense, she did not trouble about the judgment of others, accustomed as she was throughout life to submit herself to a Higher Judge. She found it difficult to make advances to other people and always welcomed the fearless, happy girls who ventured to treat her as a comrade and friend. No doubt this sensitiveness helped her much in her dealings with others. It gave her the power of sympathising, especially in times of sorrow and difficulty: one has only to read some of her letters to see how powerful she was in this way. A few extracts will illustrate this point:—

“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 success!”

To another, on her father’s death:—

“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’.”

To one going through great spiritual struggle:—

“Indeed, dear child, I do feel for you. When you are freer you must come and see me and we will talk over things. I shall not think you wicked but believe that you do want to know God, and that He is sorry for you because you do care, but cannot see.”

To her dear friend, Miss Belcher, when the latter was suffering from the illness which was to bring the end:—

“I am looking forward to Friday. I thought of you so much on this the Physician’s [St. Luke’s] day as we sang that beautiful Hymn and Psalm xxx: and our window told of the raising of the daughter by the Healer.”

Dorothea Beale presented the perhaps not unusual combination of the practical woman of affairs and the mystic. Her business capacity and power of organisation were remarkable, and yet she had essentially the mind of a poet. Hers was the type of mind that is continually seeing a revelation of the spiritual in all material things, in history, in literature, and in sympathy with kindred souls.

Her Scripture lessons she considered one of the chief parts of her work. She always took the greatest care with her preparation for these classes and made them the subject of prayer. Some used to complain that her lessons were vague, and not intelligible, but even those who did not understand felt a greatness and an uplifting power which were a help to them.

In 1880 she wrote to a young teacher. “I used to prepare my lessons on my knees (don’t say this to others). You would find it a help, I think, to do this sometimes.”

Her literature lessons were rather unusual. She dealt with the great writers in a great way, and used these lessons for conveying moral teaching that could not very well be given in Scripture lessons. Browning she loved, and her senior girls never left school without having been introduced by Dorothea Beale to some of his great, shorter poems. Her book on Literary Studies gives one an idea of how she dealt with literature in her classes. There is in this book a very interesting dialogue, between a person of the seventeenth and one of the nineteenth century on the theology of “Paradise Lost”. After an interesting discussion on the different conceptions of God and His ways the seventeenth century representative says:—

“You do not do justice to us. You do not think Bunyan meant us to believe Christian took a real journey away from a particular town. Why do you suppose Milton meant that Satan was thrown out of a special place in this, which we call space? You do not think that the Red Cross Knight was believed by Spenser, or Christian by Bunyan, to have been immersed in a dark dungeon.”

On the subject of marriage Dorothea Beale had very high ideals. She urged girls to become independent by their own efforts, so that they should never be tempted to a mercenary marriage. She was very scornful of the type of modern novel that represents men and women as slaves of their passions, unrestrained by the bonds of marriage or the claims of morality. Before she finally accepted her vocation Dorothea Beale was herself for a short time engaged to be married: but the engagement came to an end, and the work of a great school, instead of a quiet home, became her part in life.

Her literary activities were considerable. She wrote on a good many subjects, but chiefly on those connected with her work. Some of her essays were published in the College Magazine, others in periodicals. All her work gives one much food for thought.

The Bishop of Stepney, at the memorial service held for Dorothea Beale in St. Paul’s Cathedral, gave a very true epitome of the things that Dorothea Beale stood for.

“She gave a proof that the personality of a teacher was the most indispensable and enduring power in education. The main object of all her work at Cheltenham and elsewhere was not so much to instruct the mind as to inspire the character. She held before herself a clear ideal of what a cultivated woman ought to be, strong and self-controlled, filling her life with the highest interests, developing herself to the utmost for the glory of God and the service of man.”

CHAPTER XI.

ANOTHER JOURNEY.

“The King there in His beauty

Without a veil is seen:

It were a well-spent journey

Though seven deaths lay between.”

—“Hymn from the last words of Samuel Rutherford.”

To those whose life is extended to even the lower limit of the Psalmist, the world becomes rather sad and lonely. Gradually, one by one, friends and relations of their own generation pass away, and there are few left with the same memories and the same outlook. Dorothea Beale enjoyed perhaps one of the greatest blessings life can give, that of being able to work until the end. Like all energetic souls she wished to die “in harness,” and that wish was granted. But on the personal side her life had become very lonely, though it was brightened by the love of her “children”.

Some months before the end she was haunted by the suspicion of fatal disease, but of this others knew nothing. In the Guild meeting of 1906 there hovered the feeling that perhaps it was the last over which the loved Principal, now old and frail, would preside. “Old Girls” linger affectionately on her last speech; it was full of humorous touches, and ripples of laughter were continually passing through the audience. In it she made her appeal for greater earnestness, greater devotion, so that all the Guild members might be able to say—using the motto of St. Hilda’s, Oxford—Non frustra vixi.

In the holidays she did a good deal of work connected with the College and began term as usual, though some who knew her well realised that she was hardly fit for the strain of her work.

Her “Old Girls” linger lovingly on that last term. On the first day she gave, as she usually did, a short address to the teachers and children. She spoke on one of her favourite themes—the Parable of the Talents—and dwelt chiefly on the joy and privilege of being fellow-workers with God.

On October 16, Dorothea Beale had to go to a College Council Meeting in London. By accident, she missed Miss Alice Andrews whom she was to meet at Oxford and went up to London alone. As soon as she arrived in London she went to see her doctor, an “Old Girl,” Dr. Aldrich Blake. The doctor confirmed her worst suspicions and recommended an immediate operation. Later, she wrote about this visit:—

“On Tuesday (October 16) I went up to London hurriedly at 6.37, full of the thought of what was before me. I went straight to Dr. Aldrich Blake, an old pupil. She condemned me. Then I saw, as I had arranged, a new attendant. I looked into shops and felt giddy, and went on to the place of meeting, where I saw two others, and lastly several friends.”

After this she proceeded to the Council meeting, where she read her annual report with no sign of fatigue. On her return to Cheltenham Dr. Cardew confirmed Dr. Aldrich Blake’s opinion, and it was arranged that she should enter a local nursing home on October 22. Up to the last moment she did her work, taking prayers, her Scripture lesson—which struck the girls as a most remarkable one—and doing her corrections until the end of that day. Some few friends knew of the trial that awaited her and to one or two others she expressed the doubt whether she would ever return. After the operation all went well, until Sunday, the 28th, when she became obviously worse. She rallied somewhat, however, but the day after nervous prostration set in and after that there was practically no hope. Mrs. Raikes tells very vividly the story of the morning at Cheltenham (November 9) when the bulletin was issued “Miss Beale is sinking”:—

“‘We went through the morning,’ says Miss Sturge, ‘feeling like Elisha, “Knowest thou that the Lord will take away thy master from thy head to-day? Yea, I know it, hold ye your peace!”’”

Not in Cheltenham only but far and wide her children were praying for her: watching for news, and remembering and repeating to each other things she had said. It was stormy weather, and more than one thought of Wordsworth’s lines—lines which she had often read to her class—written when he was expecting to hear of the death of Charles James Fox:—

A power is passing from the earth

To breathless nature’s dark abyss!

Dorothea Beale died on Friday, November 9, at 12.15 during college hours. It was thought best that the girls should hear of her death before leaving. When all were assembled in the Princess Hall the Vice-Principal said:—

“It has pleased God to take from us our beloved Principal.” In a few words she told the history of the last few days, and then said: “We feel that it is what she would have desired—no long waiting in suffering or helplessness, but to go home straight from her work with her splendid powers scarcely impaired:—

Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail

Or knock the breast: no weakness, no contempt,

Dispraise or blame: nothing but well and fair

And what may quiet us in a death so noble.

‘The readiness is all.’ Let us bear our grief with calmness and dignity. We know that it would be her wish that work should go on as usual.... We believe that love lives on, and that the noble work she did for fifty years has done much for England and for womanhood, and that not only we who have been blessed by her gracious presence, but generations also to come shall reap the fruit of her toil and rise up and call her blessed. Let us pray.”

Then followed a thanksgiving adapted from the form of Memorial Service issued by authority in January, 1901, after the death of Queen Victoria.

Dorothea Beale had prepared for death as she had prepared for life and had left instructions that her “perishable body” should be cremated so as not to be a source of disease to others, and that those who loved her should not buy any flowers for her funeral, but could if they wished, bring a few wild flowers or some from their own gardens, but she did not wish any wholesale destruction of life.

Her body was buried in Gloucester Cathedral, where the funeral took place on November 16. Eight hundred girls then at the College came voluntarily and walked silently in twos from the station to the Cathedral, which was crowded largely with former pupils.

At the same time a Memorial Service was held in St. Paul’s Cathedral.

In other churches in different parts of the country thanks were offered for the life and work of Dorothea Beale. Many newspapers published true and beautiful appreciations of her work, life, and character, and all felt that a great leader had gone from the earth.

So in honour passed away one whose work had small beginnings: who through difficulty, misunderstanding and prejudice pursued the vision she saw in youth and lived to see, as perhaps few do see, her dream realised. Such as Dorothea Beale can never die. She lives still in her College at Cheltenham, and in the great work carried on there: in her “children,” who in many lands and many spheres of work still live in the spirit of their great Head: and in the grateful remembrance of all women who have been able without hindrance to quench their thirst at the fount of knowledge.

CHAPTER XII.

THE VOCATION OF TEACHING.

“The power of any life lies in its expectancy.”—PHILLIPS BROOKS.

“Usefulness is the rent we pay for room upon the earth.”—DOROTHEA BEALE.

It is only thirteen years since Dorothea Beale passed over to the other side to enter on the greater service which we believe is granted to all who toil here in singleness of heart. In her theories of education, in her outlook on life, she was of our day. Her methods of teaching are still employed in our best schools, and the teacher can still find her essays on teaching suggestive and helpful.

Yet we live in another world. Since August 1914, we have passed through experiences that have changed for ever the values of things. Nothing can ever be the same again. We of our generation are faced not with one little difficulty or another but with the building of a new world. The old civilisation lies in dust at our feet. With it have gone many things that were very dear to us, our security, our comfort, our national serenity, our happy-go-lucky individualism. With it, too, have gone the best of our young manhood, those on whom much of the work of the immediate future was to rest.

Nor is it without significance that to women at this hour have come for the first time direct power in politics and opportunity to do any work of which they are capable. On them must fall the work that the dead and disabled would have done. To the men of England and of other countries came the call to give their lives: to the women no less comes the same call.

Perhaps the greatest need of the world just now is work: not only for the production of material necessities, but for its steadying, sanity-restoring power. After four years of the passions and sorrows of war, mankind has not yet regained its mental balance; and in honest, steady work, it will perhaps most surely win again the gift it has lost.

In the building of a new world there is no force so great as that of education in its many aspects, the most important of which is that of the home. Teachers realise that what is done at school is as nothing compared with the enormous power of home education, composed as it is of all the influences of early childhood. Parents must always be the chief educators, and for this reason parenthood must be one of the most sacred of human relationships and one of the highest callings. It is at home a child learns to look at the great things of life from the right or the wrong angle: it is at home he learns to reverence the good and the true or to hold them in contempt. Parenthood requires a great preparation of heart and soul, for it brings with it the greatest of all responsibilities, that of guiding human souls into the right pathway.

Of late years the need for teachers has been great, the supply being less than the demand. Many teachers are still needed, and to the girl of intellectual interests and power who is seeking a profession, the question may well arise, whether she should adopt that of a teacher. There are many matters to be faced in considering this.

Teaching brings with it few of the rewards for which the ordinary person craves. Financially, its prizes are few: for the most part it is a badly-paid profession, especially considering the years of training it involves. It brings with it little renown. Even the greatest teachers are known in a comparatively narrow circle, at any rate during their lives. Praise and appreciation are almost unknown, whilst criticism is given, as was the medicine of last century, in large doses and at frequent intervals. If it is properly done, the work is hard. Real teaching implies ceaseless learning. It is imperative to keep a mind open to all new thought and new ideas, not only in the educational work but in the world at large. It is necessary, too, to acquire the wisdom to deal with what is new, so that to some extent the true may be separated from the false, the lofty from the base. It is a work, moreover, that is a perpetual test of character, worth, and spirit. There are no teachers worthy of the name, who do not frequently shrink from the magnitude of their task and tremble at their own lack of power. The teacher is called to incessant mental and spiritual work. Only as he or she lives an active life in mind and soul can he hope to have any success in training the young for life.

But the chief question after all is that of personal fitness. There are two essentials; the first is a love of children; the second is some love of study and of teaching. There can be no good work done without love of the children we teach: a teacher who does not love children would probably be serving God better if she were breaking stones by the roadside. The love of the work itself increases as time goes on. As a rule the desire to teach indicates some aptitude for the work; though between the eager expectancy of the untried student and the quiet joy of the skilled teacher, lie many dark valleys which must perforce be passed. This, however, is not peculiar to teaching. It is common to all work of a personal nature, in fact is inherent in all high living.

For those who wish to teach, the great problem arises: “What kind of teaching shall I undertake?” It is a difficult one to solve.

In England the different kinds of teaching for girls are very clearly defined. Socially, educational establishments are pretty clearly differentiated. There is the elementary school for the children of those whom, for want of a better name, we call the people. Next, the high school or secondary school, largely for the children of the middle classes. Lastly, the public school for the boys and the public or private school for the girls of the wealthy and the aristocracy. These all usually have their kindergarten or preparatory departments which offer attractive work to those gifted in dealing with little children.

There is a great need to-day of real peace. International war, hardly ended, has been succeeded by internal strife of a very serious nature: at the root of this lies much deep bitterness, the result of the failure of the different classes of the community to understand one another. If a number of girls of the middle and upper classes, who feel that they are called to the work of teaching, would take up work in the Elementary Schools or the new Continuation Schools, it would do much, I believe, to bring about a better understanding between class and class. In this way each would get to know something of the other and the ideals and knowledge of those who have had greater advantages would begin to permeate our national life.

Dorothea Beale tried at one time of her work to establish a school of training for such teachers, but the difficulties put in her way by the Government of that day made the continuation of the work impossible. With an educationalist at the Board of Education many difficulties have been and will be removed, and elementary teaching with smaller classes, higher pay, and better buildings, is made more possible for those who wish to embark on it. It is useless, however, to take up this work unless one has in one’s heart a great love for little children, whether dirty or clean, ragged or well-cared for. The elementary schools have not yet adopted the high school system of morning lessons and afternoon preparation, and this makes the hours of teaching long. The corrections and necessary preparation are usually less than in a high school: the holidays are shorter, but are gradually being lengthened.

Some, however, are quite incapable of understanding those outside their own social class: and such would be foolish to attempt work in the elementary schools. They would do better in high, secondary, or boarding schools. The last are not popular amongst present day girl teachers, largely because of the restrictions. Yet in a boarding school a true teacher has opportunities which never come into a day-school teacher’s life. In many ways it is a much more satisfactory sphere, provided the Head realises that no teacher can do good work without ample leisure and opportunity for a life of her own apart from the school. More and more are our generation realising that outside interests are absolutely essential for a teacher if he or she is going to be a person of real power and influence. Apart from the knowledge of one’s own subject there is nothing so necessary in a teacher as a knowledge of life; not simply the life of the schoolroom, but of life in its many branches. It is often said that unmarried women teachers never grow up. They pass from school to college, and from college back to school, and never quite lose the schoolgirl point of view. It is often the greatest boon to a teacher to be obliged to give up her own work for a year or two at some period of her life and to live in a world where people do not measure time by terms or mark out the day by bells. But in any case a teacher can always have some interest that has nothing to do with teaching and has no direct bearing on her work. Such interests do much to prevent overstrain.

The training for teaching is very thorough and long. That for secondary or high school work is usually expensive; but the cost of training for elementary school teaching is much less, as the Government have their own training colleges. After January, 1921, all teachers registered by the Government will have to be trained not only educationally but in the art of teaching. Degrees, now, are almost a sine quâ non, or are at any rate very desirable. All universities admit women to their degree examinations, though Oxford and Cambridge do not yet grant degrees.

It is a profession where a good standard of health is desirable, though people of a sensitive, nervous temperament are often the best teachers. A tired teacher is, ipso facto, a failure: it is, therefore, work in which the preservation of freshness of mind and body becomes a special duty. In the best schools the hours of teaching are short, and long holidays, wisely spent, ought to keep the health vigorous. The right use of holidays is frequently overlooked, especially by young teachers, who often spend them in the fulfilment of claims as strenuous as their work, and return to school used-up and unfit for their duties—a form of dishonesty not always recognised as such.

In considering teaching as a possible calling the advantages of the long holidays are worthy of consideration. They give opportunities of friendship, life with one’s own family, travel, study, and pleasures of many kinds. It is good, too, in these busy days that a few people have intervals of leisure in which they have time to sympathise with others, and to think of the little things of life that are in reality the great things. Holidays may be the greatest boon not only to oneself, but to all the people one meets.

Particulars about the training for teaching are to be found in many books. Two which come readily to my mind are “The Teacher’s Year Book” and “The Englishwoman’s Year Book”. The registrars of the different universities are always glad to supply particulars if asked. The Board of Education will give details about elementary school teaching: these change somewhat every few years. There are many helps for those who intend to be teachers, the chief being the scholarships offered by the different colleges to those who could not without aid afford the fees. This is especially true of some of the newer universities. Many large schools also offer help to their pupils who have the ability and desire to go on to the universities.

To the girl who feels in her the desire to teach, and has the power necessary for the task, I should say, “Accept your work, and I am sure you will have no reason to regret your decision.” For with all its hardships, all its endless striving after impossible ideals, it is a work which can really be one’s life: and surely such work is always the happiest.

It has many joys. There are few in life greater than that of seeing gradually awaken in a child interest and keenness where before there has been apathy and dullness. To be able to give life to dry bones of knowledge, to rouse from its torpor the still sleeping mind, to turn the faces of the children we teach towards the light is surely well worth doing.

It has many opportunities. The teacher’s task is not to teach opinions, but to lay the foundations of sound moral standards on which all true opinion must rest.

The world needs teachers: not the perfunctory worker who takes up one of the most sacred of callings as a means of livelihood, but the teacher who is willing to consecrate herself for the work.

At the end of that powerful novel of Robert Herrick’s, “The Healer,” is a vivid scene. The old doctor, whose gift had been lost through the exacting claims of an unsuitable marriage, is walking arm-in-arm with a young student. The older man has recognised in the younger the power he himself once had, the gift of healing. Very affectionately he lays his hand on the lad’s shoulder.

“Remember,” he says—I quote from memory—“this gift of yours will demand whole-hearted devotion and will be satisfied with nothing less than your life.”

So with the work of teaching. It is a profession that demands whole-hearted devotion. To those who give to it their lives it brings many joys, great opportunities, and the satisfaction that constant giving alone bestows. It has many dangers and many temptations, but these lose much of their power over the teacher who tries to realise in practice as well as in theory:—

“That the influence of personal character has been from the first the great means of bearing truth into men’s hearts.”

BIBLIOGRAPHY.

Raikes. “Dorothea Beale of Cheltenham.” Constable.

Beale. “Addresses to Teachers.” Longmans.

Beale. “Studies in Literature, New and Old.” Longmans.

Beale, Soulsby, and Dove. “Work and Play in Girls’ Schools.” Longmans.

“Reports issued by the Schools’ Inquiry Commission on the Education of Girls. Reprinted with extracts from the evidence and a paper by D. Beale.” 1864.

Beale. “On the Education of Girls.” (Paper read at Social Science Congress, 1865.)

The Times. November, 1906. January, 1907.

Cheltenham Ladies’ College Magazine. 1880 and onwards.

A SHORT BIBLIOGRAPHY OF EDUCATIONAL WORKS.

Basil Matthews (Editor). “Essays in Vocation.” Humphrey Milford. 3s. (A second and third series are in course of preparation.)

Thring. “The Theory and Practice of Teaching.”

Thring. “Education and School.” Macmillan. 6s.

Thring. “Teaching, Learning, and Life.” Allenson. 1s.

James. “Talks to Teachers.”

Paget. “The Hallowing of Work.” Rivington. 2s.

Clutton Brock. “The Ultimate Belief.” Constable. 2s.

Kidd. “The Science of Power.” Methuen. 6s.

Holmes. “What is and What might be.” Constable. 4s. 6d.

Holmes. “In Defence of What is and What might be.” Constable. 4s. 6d.

Montessori. “The Montessori Method.” Heinemann. 7s. 6d.

Mumford. “The Dawn of Religion in the Mind of the Child.” Longmans. 1s.

Macmillan. “The Camp School.” Allen & Unwin. 3s. 6d. Also “The Child and the State.” Nat. Labour Press.

Eileen Power, M.A. “A Bibliography for Teachers of History.” Women’s International League. 2s.

Pollard. “Educational Value of the Study of History.” Leaflet 36. 6d. (Historical Association, 22 Russell Square.)

Dewey. “Schools of To-morrow.” Dent. 5s.

Hughes. “Citizens to be.” Constable. 4s. 6d.

Paton. “The Child and the Nation.” S.C.M. 1s.

Richmond. “Education for Liberty.” Collins, 6s.

Simpson. “An Adventure in Education.” Sidgwick & Jackson, 3s. 6d.

A. C. Benson (and others). “Cambridge Essays on Education.” Camb. Univ. Press. 8s.

Welton. “The Psychology of Education.” MacMillan & Co.

Welton. “What do we mean by Education?” MacMillan & Co. 7s. 6d.

Paul. “Some Christian Ideals in the Teaching Profession.” Student Christian Movement. 3s.

Hayward & Freeman. “The Spiritual Foundations of Reconstruction.” P. S. King & Sons. 10s. 6d.

Nunn. “Education, its Data and First Principles.” Arnold. 6s.

Richmond. “The Curriculum.” Constable. 5s.

ABERDEEN: THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DOROTHEA BEALE: PRINCIPAL OF THE CHELTENHAM LADIES' COLLEGE, 1858-1906 ***

Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed.

Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, especially commercial redistribution.

START: FULL LICENSE

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at www.gutenberg.org/license.

Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works

1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.

1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.

1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the United States and you are located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when you share it without charge with others.

1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any country other than the United States.

1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, copied or distributed:

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.

1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™.

1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project Gutenberg™ License.

1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website (www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.

1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works provided that:

- • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.”

- • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ works.

- • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of receipt of the work.

- • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.

1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.

1.F.

1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.

1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE.

1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further opportunities to fix the problem.

1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.

1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any Defect you cause.

Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™

Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from people in all walks of life.

Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org.

Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit 501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws.

The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact

Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status with the IRS.

The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate.

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who approach us with offers to donate.

International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate.

Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works

Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.

Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.

Most people start at our website which has the main PG search facility: www.gutenberg.org.

This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.

Table of Contents

DOROTHEA BEALE

SYNOPSIS OF CHAPTERS.

PREFACE.

CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY.

CHAPTER II. LIFE AT HOME AND AT SCHOOL.

CHAPTER III. AT QUEEN’S COLLEGE.

CHAPTER IV. A DIFFICULT YEAR AND A TIME OF WAITING.

CHAPTER V. SMALL BEGINNINGS.

CHAPTER VI. ON EDUCATION.

CHAPTER VII. GROWTH.

CHAPTER VIII. WORK OF LOVE.

CHAPTER IX. INTERESTS, HONOURS, AND A JOURNEY.

CHAPTER X. SOME CHARACTERISTICS AND IDEAS.

CHAPTER XI. ANOTHER JOURNEY.

CHAPTER XII. THE VOCATION OF TEACHING.

BIBLIOGRAPHY.

A SHORT BIBLIOGRAPHY OF EDUCATIONAL WORKS.

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE