Chapter XVI · LETTERS (continued 2)

‘If there are disadvantages in the London changes, at least I hope we shall get more liberty; let us try to find “a soul of goodness in things evil.”

‘What a beautiful character is Pasteur’s. I find it quite a Sunday book.’

To Miss Nixon, on Henry George’s Progress and Poverty:—

‘April 1884.

‘I am sorry to have given you pain, but I do hope you will read the writings of those who understand political economy better than we do. I think if you had read about the evils which preceded the abolition of the old Poor Law, you would have seen why I cannot approve Mr. George’s plans, and not thought that I desire less than you do that these miseries of the people should be lessened. It is so important for us teachers to try to get right views about history; to pray by our acts that we may have “a right judgment in all things.”

‘It is more pathetic than anything to see people led by false hopes to follow wandering fires to their destruction; and such, I am sure, are some of the new lights. The history of the Crusades and the French Revolution ought not to have been written in vain for us. There are three articles that I think you ought to read,—the Duke of Argyle’s, Mr. Herbert Spencer’s, and Mr. Brodrick’s, in the last Nineteenth Century and Contemporary.

‘Reforms I earnestly desire on laws of succession, land transfer, etc. etc., but I am sure that no external bettering of conditions can do good without this is the outcome of right principles, and that people can be raised only by raising the moral standard of all. Perhaps we may have time to talk some day.

To Mr. Coates after a lecture he had given at Cheltenham:—

‘July 1888.

‘Dear Mr. Coates,— ... What I especially regretted was that the lecture raised a number of questions to which it furnished no answers, but seemed to me to suggest erroneous ones; words were used which were not defined.

‘(1) Persecution; (2) Official dignity; (3) Rights of the individual in relation to the community.

‘(1) Now as regards persecution, you said people could not, if they were in earnest, help persecuting. That was equivalent to the assertion that persecution was right; but you did not say what you understood by persecution. Everything depends on that to girls accustomed to associate persecution with bodily torture. I think what you said would suggest wrong ideas. I can’t agree with your general proposition, but of course I may be wrong.

‘(2) “A Dog in Office” is to me a different being from one who has not been appointed to the charge. He feels it, and I feel it. He respects himself more, and by his “investiture,” though it be only by a costermonger, he becomes capable of acts of which he would otherwise have been incapable, and his bearing, in combination with his legitimate title derived from the owner of the barrow, obtains recognition from all the street curs.

‘I may, of course, be superstitious, but I do regard a consecrated king, a President elected deliberately by a great nation, a man solemnly set apart to serve a church, as in some sense different from others. It seems to me that this is a matter of some importance in these days, when the sacredness of human relationships is called in question. I think we teachers cannot feel too strongly the duty of doing for thought what the feudal lords did for material forces in erecting bulwarks or breakwaters against the floods of undisciplined opinions in question, passion clothed in rags of thought. We want, like the old alchemists, to make the indeterminate clouds of smoke like actual forms.

‘I do not think you and I really differ, but I suppose the fact of my having a little kingdom has aggravated my sense of responsibility, and I can’t help always regarding teaching as purposeful. I hold in abhorrence the maxim “Art for Art’s sake.” I always want it to have a purifying influence on the character. I believe you do the same, only you are afraid of “preaching.”

‘You will be saying, “I wish some one else shared my aversion,” so I will spare you No. 3. I hope you will not misunderstand me.’

To Mrs. Rix:—

‘January 1891.

‘It is always an anxious thing when people of different nations marry....

‘I hope your good husband will not desert his post. I feel sure these scientific things were given us to prevent our feeling crushed by the weight of the “unintelligible world” of philosophy, and the atonement of science and philosophy is the work of our age—through nature we have to go to find the spiritual Christ. Poor Mr. Lant Carpenter. I wonder if it was the Sphinx who killed him.’

To Sir Joshua Fitch, after the death of Miss Buss:—

‘July (?) 1897.

‘I have been thinking what I could write to you about Miss Buss. I don’t think I could send you anything that would help in an article, or say much more than I have in the Guardian. I am spoken of as her life-long friend, but I did not know her until long after I came to Cheltenham, a little before you joined our Council. It is said in many papers that I attended with her the evening classes at Queen’s College. I never did. She assisted at the evolution which transformed our governing body from a local Committee to what it is now, and by getting an enlarged Council we were saved from dying of atrophy....

‘From that time we were intimately associated in educational movements, and I ever felt that she was utterly to be trusted never to think,—much less to do anything but what was true, straightforward, unselfish. She was deeply, unostentatiously religious, lived in the spirit of prayer, and had the love of God in its twofold sense ever guiding her thought and actions. Often have we knelt together, at her request, the last thing at night and said together the Veni Creator.

‘If I spoke the other day of troubles with the governing bodies—it was not from anything definite that she said to me; but she has often, to allay my impatience, repeated what one of her Governors said: “Do you think we come here to register your decrees?” She received it as a deserved reproof, though, of course, she must have known what was best for the school, and never desired her selfish good,—only that of the School.

‘The large view she took of the general outlook for the growing up teachers struck me much. The provision for the future, the opening of new occupations, the health and bodily development. Her gymnasium, I think, she herself built and gave to the school.... She had a lady doctor to examine the girls, weigh them, etc., etc.

‘The formation of the Head-mistresses’ Association was entirely due to her. The first meeting, and, I think, the second was held at Myra Lodge. She was very anxious about the “Teachers’ Guild.”

‘I sat with her on the Council of the Church Schools’ Company, and was surprised at the amount of time and thought she gave to it. With such solicitude she used to say, “My dear, we must help these young Head-mistresses.” Whenever any school-mistress got into difficulties she was of such sympathy and help.

‘Then she tried so much to help her old girls, to promote the love of reading in her staff, to call out their helpfulness in many ways. That exhibition of things made that cost nothing, was a very original idea, and taught economy by an object lesson....

‘The ways in which she used to help poor girls were hardly known to any one; clothes she used to get sent to them, and she had friends to whom she could mention cases where money help was needed and get it. Then she was not one to give up because she could not influence people by what were for her the highest motives; but appealed to the best in them, would give ethics when she could not give religion, and when she spoke of wrong, it was with a sorrow which covered the indignation.

‘There was a real solicitude, in spite of her many occupations, to help all teachers. She would get books to send round to other schools to help them, and never seemed to think of any being rivals, but rather fellow-workers.

‘But you must know most of what I am saying, for you knew her well, and she specially loved your wife. I am only writing what comes to my mind to do what I can; but you see I have so few definite facts, and I knew her only when she was full-grown in character and her work established.

‘I think, having a Boarding House as well as a School was a mistake, and she felt it so at last. It was impossible for her to attend to it much herself; and I think she should not have rushed off on foreign tours at Christmas.

‘Finally, perhaps, I may say that she was, it seemed to me, always pained and surprised at wrong in others, and expectant of good, and able to see the latent good underlying the apparent evil. She had the charity that hopeth all things.

‘Her generosity in money matters was very great, especially to her family. She used to speak with such joy and pride of the battles her brother fought in Shoreditch, and her brave sister-in-law, and great was her affection for her nephew.

‘Forgive my incoherence please, and take the will for the deed.’

Miss Beale wrote but little about herself, but in her correspondence with an intimate friend, she would give glimpses of her own personal life, even of her doings, as well as of her thought and reading. Her letters to Miss Amy Giles are the most interesting from this point of view, covering as they do the last period of her life. Some extracts from these are given:—

‘July 6, 1897.

‘Dear Amy,—I wonder what you will do now that you have quite lost your beloved mother. I was talking with Miss Sewell about you, and said I wished you could come and spend a week here.... If you came the week after next, perhaps you would like to stay for our Quiet Days at the end.’

To the same:—

‘August 15, 1897.

‘I have kept your letter so long, hoping I might see my way to pay you a visit, which I should so very much like to do, but I am afraid the prospect is a diminishing one. It was a great pleasure to renew my acquaintance with one whom I had loved as a pupil, and to find we had grown even nearer during the intervening years. It would, too, be a pleasure to see Miss Sewell, for whom I have so great an admiration. I will not altogether give up hopes, but I am much afraid it will be impossible. The work for Longmans is to fill two hundred pages. I get ordinarily a hundred and fifty letters a week on College business, and now that we are beginning this Elementary work, there is a Head to be found, prospectuses to be drawn up, the Education Office to be consulted, etc., and also the Magazine to be edited, and some few people I must see....

‘There are many things one has to deny one’s self “for the work’s sake,” but it is worth while. I cannot be too thankful for being allowed to do it.’

To the same:—

‘August 25, 1898.

‘My sister has come home on purpose, and I am spending a week with her on the hills; my niece helping to copy the MS.’

In the summer holidays of 1898 Miss Beale stayed with Miss Giles at Bonchurch. They afterwards visited Marlborough College and Savernake Forest together, parting at Marlborough station. Miss Beale wrote after this to Miss Giles:—

‘August 28, 1898.

‘I will own that after you were gone all things seemed colder.... The doctor thought me wonderfully well, and my ears much better than usual after so long an absence. He says I can go to-morrow, and highly approves of cycling if I can do it.... May the spiritual sun ever rise for you, my dear child, more and more until the perfect day.’

To the same:—

‘September 7, 1898.

‘I had some bicycle lessons at Woodchester, but all united in recommending tricycling instead for me.’

To the same:—

‘October 1898.

‘That cycling is wonderful, I am so much better.’

To the same:—

‘November 13, 1898.

‘Miss Belcher is still very ill, but yesterday brought me a gleam of hope. Thanks to you I am wonderfully well. I have cycled two mornings as far as our Sanatorium, and got back about 8 A.M. ... I think this renewed life must mean that there is some more work for me to do, or that I want strength to bear some coming trials....

‘We have been getting some lectures from Mr. de Sélincourt, also a son-in-law. We like him very much.... Next Saturday I have to attend six meetings. I had to go to London lately, and spent a night at St. Hilda’s East; it looks so nice, and seems going on so well.’

To the same:—

‘November 29, 1898.

‘I am glad you have seen the Chapel of the Ascension. Mr. Shields is far the best interpreter I have ever seen of Bible thoughts in pictures.... Thanks to you I am wonderfully strong this term.... I have joined the Aristotelian Society. I shall almost never, perhaps never be able to attend the meetings, but I shall get papers.... Miss Belcher is still battling with the disease. Sometimes we hope, and then we fear we may lose her, but to gain time is much.’

To the same. Written when there was some idea of Miss Giles living abroad:—

‘May 14, 1899.

‘I don’t like the idea of your being uprooted from England.... It is different to go for a time, but it seems to me that most English people who live abroad have their lives comparatively wasted.’

To the same. After alluding to the death of Mrs. Moyle:—

‘July 16, 1899.

‘It seems so wonderful that I should be alive, and see so many dear children pass away.’

To the same. Speaking of the South African War:—

‘December 26, 1899.

‘It is indeed a sad time, and I don’t see how it is to end; surely we as a nation have to pass through the fire.... I think all the advantages we women have had this last half century were to prepare us for some terrible trials. Shall we be able to look up and lift up our heads above this earth, and know that salvation draweth nigh? I think you will understand me.’

To the same. Also about the South African War:—

‘February 10, 1900.

‘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 so we must glorify God in the fires. War does seem to be waged in a more humane spirit than ever before, that is one comfort, and there are many others.’

To the same. Miss Giles had sent a paper for the Magazine:—

‘September 1900.

‘I feel sure I shall not accept Guinevere as a subject for our magazine. I am not fond of the Idylls.’

To the same. On recovering from bronchitis:—

‘1903.

‘Thanks for your kind offer, but I must not ask any one to stay this term; I must reserve every bit of strength for the work.’

To the same. Towards the end of the Easter holidays, when she had been confined to her room with a bronchial attack:—

‘I have been reading a very pretty book, The House of Quiet. Now I have Herbert Spencer’s Autobiography, which I am not reading, but a friend picks out bits for me. I have been going over again some old friends, Dr. Jekyl, Cecilia de Noel, etc.’

To the same:—

‘June 1905.

‘I had a very enjoyable visit to Winchester to the annual meeting of head-mistresses, and last week I dined at the Clothworkers’, my first experience of a City company’s dinner. There were many interesting people.’

In the summer holidays of 1905 Miss Giles accompanied Miss Beale to Oeynhausen. The two following letters concern the preparation made for this visit to the German baths.

‘July 1905.

‘Have you quite made up your mind not to come to the Quiet Days?... remember you will have a period of spiritual starvation as regards church-going....

‘I mean to take as little as possible ... we do no visiting ... a few books I must have. If you come, you could write out your notes of addresses and read them to me, as I am not likely to hear them.... We have had twelve concerts, and I was present at most of them. I have not yet signed a report, and have taken leave of only some of the about one hundred and twenty who will leave.

‘I thought of taking Illingworth’s Personality,—and perhaps Lux Mundi, if you do not know it well; also some Hamlet books: but I shall take chiefly light books, in a material sense.’

On returning from Germany Miss Beale went to Hyde Court for her niece’s wedding, and wrote on arrival to Miss Giles.

‘September 1905.

‘Lena looks lovely!’

A letter followed describing the wedding, and concluding thus:—

‘The country is looking lovely—even in the rain; but the swallows are flying about in great excitement. I think they must be departing at once. I wonder how long I shall be privileged to go on working before I too migrate. I do hope I may be able to work on to the end....’

To the same:—

‘September 1905.

‘I had nightmare last night about war in India. Russia is quite ready to turn her armies into Afghanistan, and she is allowed to keep all ready in Manchuria. Well, one can only hope that still out of the strife will come soul evolution.’

In September 1905 Miss Beale’s letters speak of exhaustion, but others wrote of her that she was busy, full of energy, and ‘does not seem to tire.’

To the same. Speaking of her visit to London in the Christmas holidays:—

‘January 15, 1906.

‘One afternoon I spent with Mrs. Benson, and Miss Benson lent me the book recounting her digging up of the Temple of Mut. Arthur Benson too was there, and Miss Tait and Mrs. Henry Sidgwick.

‘What a revolution we have! If we had stood still things might have been as they are in Russia. One could not be satisfied with the late government, but one dreads violent changes; it is well there are a few strong men in the Ministry. Mr. Balfour deserves his fate for not bringing in a re-distribution Bill, and for tyrannising—but one feels sorry for him too.

‘PS.—Think of us on Tuesday’ (the opening day of term), ‘I feel so weak.’

The weakness to which Miss Beale alluded was destined to continue, but amid the decay of natural health long-rooted hopes grew strong and blossomed afresh. But a few weeks before her own death she wrote to a friend who had recently lost her mother:—

‘You will miss your beloved mother, but it is well. I suppose none of us desire to live after our faculties fail.... I am feeling old age is creeping on.... Well, we shall soon all meet—Behind the veil, behind the veil!’