CHAPTER IX.

PRACTICAL WORK.

“No one who has been brought into contact with Miss Buss, no one

who has even seen her portrait, can have failed to be struck by

her transparent integrity, her absolute sincerity, her

single-mindedness of purpose. However much one might differ from

her on a question of policy, one felt certain that the judgment

was never warped by personal bias, that it was never prompted by

ambition or jealousy, or any vulgar motive.... As an organizer

she was unrivalled.”—_Journal of Education_, January, 1895.

The summary of Miss Buss’ practical work, for which I am so deeply

indebted to Mrs. Bryant, is best given in her own words, with merely an

interpolation illustrating that law of order on which these schools are

so firmly based.

* * * * *

Mrs. Bryant begins with an important reminder—

“Teachers are not inapt to forget that the most important factor in

education is the personality of the learner. The next most important is

the personality of the teacher. So far as others make our education for

us, the mind of the educator is more important by far than his method.

And this is the more true the greater the teacher.

“Of Frances Mary Buss this was specially true, so much was intuition and

sympathy in the concrete inwoven with her thoughts on the educational

ideal. The ideal of her action was an emanation of her nature as a

whole, not a pure product of thought. She could have told many things

about it, but she could not tell it all. Her vision was wide, but her

wisdom was wider. Hence there never was any danger that her mind would

harden into a net of secondary principles in the solution of any

individual problem. Practical questions were always unique, each one in

itself, to her; and, rapid as she was in action, she could give time to

deliberation and careful thought.

“To understand, therefore, the ideal of education under which so much

good work has been done, we need to understand, not a theory true once

for all, but the type of mind that is creative of right ideas as

occasion requires. Nor is a subtle delineation of character needed here.

The leading features are well marked, and a brief sketch may give the

clearest conception.

“Breadth and elasticity of imagination, indomitable energy of will,

boundless faith, unwearied sympathy—these are the great facts of

character which lie behind her work and mark its ideals. They are all

very obvious facts, but the first named, in the nature of the case,

though the rarest and most remarkable, is the easiest to miss in its

full significance. One clear mark of it is the memory she has left with

each of her friends, of being interested specially in that phase of

thought and work which she shared with them. The effect of it on her

educational work was that extraordinary catholicity of view which

distinguished her, and through her has influenced in many ways the

theory of the girls’ school, and the tone of the educational question in

the days which follow her.

“One phase of this catholic way of looking at things was her insistence,

always very emphatic, on the idea that school and the teacher have to do

in some way or other with the whole of life. She would not allow it to

be supposed that any condition of the well-being and good growth of her

pupils was no concern of hers. I do not mean that she at all denied the

function of the home in education. On the contrary, she attached the

greatest weight to it, but she held that whether the home did its duty

or not it was the business of the school to aim at supplying conditions

essential for the development of the pupil on all sides—to hold itself

responsible for failure even when fathers and mothers had neglected

their part. When parents were wrong-headed, or negligent, or mistaken,

then it seemed natural to her to set about educating them. Many mothers

learned priceless lessons of wisdom from her in the pleasant audiences

of her “Blue room” at school; and few, I think, were ungrateful for

them. She was full of ready resource in cases of difficulty, and she

ever held that the moral was much more essentially her business than the

intellectual salvation. When there was trouble with a girl, she gave

herself to its cure with the most absolute self-devotion, and one great

remedy was to send for the mother, to take counsel with her, and to give

her counsel. In all matters of behaviour, such as foolish talk and

unladylike—or shall I not rather say unwomanly—conduct she was strict

and vigilant. Such things never escaped her, and her manner of dealing

with them individually has made an epoch in the life of many a girl, the

transition from an irreverent to a reverent state of feeling for social

relationships.

“We are of course all familiar with the view that education is

threefold, that it concerns itself with moral, intellectual, and

physical welfare. But there was a strength and elasticity in Miss Buss’

feeling about school education as all-embracing that marked it as more

than the consequence of a view. Each girl was a clearly imagined whole

to her, with whose deficiencies and needs she had the mother’s no less

than the teacher’s sympathy. She was wonderfully patient, and

sympathetic, too, with foolish mothers, of whom there are some. She had

a kind word and thought for ‘fads,’ strenuously as she resisted them.

Forty years—thirty years—ago, the ‘fads’ that had to be resisted were

many indeed.

“So she taught us, her teachers, the duty of infinite pains, infinite

hope in the training of character. She never gave a girl up as hopeless.

If one way failed, then another must be found. She had great belief—a

belief well justified by facts—in the salvation of character by way of

the rousing of intellectual interests. It was curious to note how a

naughty girl improved if she grew to like her lessons. Naughtiness is

often unsteadiness of will, and intellectual discipline is a steadying

influence. Irrationality, moreover, is the cause of much moral evil, and

thoughtful study makes for rationality. It may be—I am much disposed to

think it is—that intellectual training effects greater moral improvement

in women than it does in men, because a woman’s faults of character, on

an average, turn more on irrationality and lack of nerve control, while

the man’s faults centre in his profounder self-absorption and slower

sympathies.

“Character as the prime aim of education soon became the key-note of the

North London practice. It fell in with this that great attention should

be paid to punctuality, accuracy, order, method, and the cultivation of

the clerkly business abilities generally. Nor should we forget that

simple quality of respect for property, so despised of boys, on which

the head-mistress laid much stress as essential for girls, and, indeed,

a part of honesty. In very early days, girls spilt ink on their dresses,

so ink ceased to be part of the regular school furniture, and is only

given out when required, e.g. for examinations, by the mistress in

charge of the form. It is part of the tradition of the place—a tradition

that will now be a tender memory—that the giving out of the ink is a

serious responsible act, the weight of which should never be thrown on a

monitor or even a prefect. The spilling of the ink is an evil so great

that its risk should be laid only on the shoulders of authority. But,

seriously, this is symbolic of the leading idea that the duty of taking

proper care of the furniture should be taught at school as well as at

home.

“Nobody but a school-mistress—except, indeed, a schoolmaster—knows to

what depths of disorder the youthful mind may descend in writing out its

lessons. I remember how it astonished me when, even at the North London

Collegiate School, the original sin of literary untidiness caused itself

to be seen. Well, from the beginning, serious war was made upon

irregularities and disorder of this kind, a whole system of school

routine growing up in consequence, much of which has become general in

girls’ schools.”

* * * * *

“Order, Heaven’s first law,” was certainly the first law of school-life.

The place was duly provided, and everything had to be in its place, an

arrangement greatly helped by the Swedish desks—one for each girl, of

suitable size—which Miss Buss was the first to introduce into England.

Wherever Miss Buss’ influence reached, order reigned. Everything bore

witness to her power of organization, and everything throughout the

place, down to the work of the lowest servant, was arranged by the head

who said of herself, “I spend my life in picking up pins!”

The highest illustration of this quality comes in the story of Lord

Granville’s admiration of the perfect arrangements on the Prize Day when

he was in the chair. He could not forget it, and spoke of it to Dr.

Carpenter, in reference to the giving of Degrees at Burlington House.

Dr. Carpenter wrote to Miss Buss to ask her secret, and in reply she

went herself to Burlington House and discussed with him all the

arrangements, which consequently went off in perfect order.

No girl in either school, who had been long enough to enter into the

spirit of the place, will ever during the longest life be able to look

with indifference on an ink-spot, or to suppress a feeling of lofty

superiority, if she ever has occasion to pass through a boys’ school,

and cast a glance at desks or floors there. And few will be able to read

without a sympathetic smile or sigh a little narrative of one of their

number showing what came of inadvertence on this point—

“One of the direst days in the whole of my school experience was

the day I spilt the ink.

“The accident happened on a Friday, and, since the event, Black

Friday has altered its position on the calendar, as far as I am

concerned.

“The terrible meaning the words ‘spilt ink’ convey to the mind

can only be understood by those who know how dearly Miss Buss

cherished the bright appearance of our beautiful school, and how

she strove to raise a similar feeling in us by occasionally

comparing its appearance with that of other public schools

(especially boys’), and by having every spot and stain forcibly

eradicated as soon as incurred.

“This accident happened one Friday morning just before prayers,

and was not confined to a single spot, but included the contents

of a large well-inkstand provokingly full.

“Hurrying past the form-table on hearing the hall bell, a long

protruding pen caught in a fold of my dress, the whole apparatus

swung steadily round and fell on the floor with a hideous

splash. There was only time to pick up the stand and pen, the

ink, alas! was foolishly left to soak steadily into the

stainless floor.

“That morning our bright little service seemed interminably

long, and several notices delayed the filing off of the classes

as speedily as usual.

“I was the first to re-enter our room, in which Fraülein stood

alone gazing at the catastrophe.

“I told her I was the culprit, and mumbled out something about

‘telling Miss Buss.’

“Her smile and quiet remark, ‘She vill not vant much telling,’

were hardly reassuring.

“Fraülein was quite right; Miss Buss did not want any telling,

the evidence in black and white was quite sufficient. She never

scolded me for the accident, but was vexed at my not having

informed the housekeeper immediately, instead of allowing the

ink to soak comfortably in for twenty minutes.

“After a little chat about ‘Presence of Mind,’ I was told to

repair the mischief, and attempt to get the stain out.

“There was no German for me that morning. The time was occupied

in scrubbing the floor with lemons. During the day several

helped, even teachers kindly lending a hand, but all our efforts

were futile, and the ink obstinately refused to move.

“Later on, oxalic acid came into play, Miss Buss personally

superintending the performance, and being really anxious in case

any of the poison should perchance cling to my fingers.

“All to no good! On Monday the room was to be used by the

Cambridge examiners, and, as a last resource, the carpenter and

his plane were imperatively summoned.

“So ended Black Friday!

“I had bought my experience in the ways of inkstands, a thorough

knowledge of eradicating stains, and a life-long lesson to act

more decisively, paying in return a bill, the items of which ran

thus: the cost of lemons, oxalic acid, and the carpenter; lost

marks, a signature in the defaulters’ book, and the most

miserable day of my school experience.”

Mrs. Bryant continues—

“In the wholeness of the founders view of her work, not character and

intellect only, but physical welfare no less belonged to the school aim.

Always, in some form or another, she had this in mind. The most

punctilious care was taken from the first as regards sanitary conditions

and precautions for wet days. Shoes had always to be changed, and

contrivances for keeping the rest of the clothing dry—by umbrellas,

cloaks, and common sense—were part of the moral order of the place. In

other words, it was treated as a breach of the regulations if a pupil

came into school with her dress wet. The result was, and is, that the

girls manage to keep astonishingly dry. Like other sources of evil, this

one has, in the course of years, tended naturally to decrease, because

girls are more sensibly dressed than they were twenty, ten, or even five

years ago. It is an amusing symptom of the hygienic influence of the

North London School that, in my quest for properly shaped shoes, I find

it best to fall back on the neighbourhood of Camden Road.

“The idea of regular physical education was early expressed in the

institution of calisthenic exercises for a quarter of an hour after the

light lunch in the middle of the morning. The idea grew and became more

systematic as opportunity made its development possible. When the new

buildings were opened, a splendid gymnasium had been provided for the

purpose. Every girl was to have a systematic course of physical training

by means of two half-hour lessons in the week from a regularly trained

teacher, besides the ordinary drill on the other three days. But there

might be abnormal girls who required more or less a special treatment,

and, reflecting on this fact, there arose in Miss Buss’ mind the idea

that the physical education ought, as of course, to be under medical

supervision. This implied that all the pupils should be medically

inspected, and it goes without saying that, to her mind, the medical

inspector should be a woman.

“For some years this post has been held by Miss Julia Cock, M.D., who

has carried out a system of observation, and record sufficient for the

purpose, but not extending to anything like medical attendance.

“The first and essential object was to determine what kind of physical

exercise was required in each case. The normal girl, and the majority of

those even with defects, would be sent to go through the usual course.

For defects, special treatment by exercise would be ordered, and this

given in the afternoon. Three afternoons in the week the gymnasium is

occupied by these special gymnastic classes, and the record of physical

improvement made is worthy perhaps of even more praise than the roll of

examination honours won by the intellectually able. The girls who do

best with much rest and little exercise are also found out and dealt

with accordingly. The physical character of each is recorded in the

medical book, and kept for reference.

“Defects of eyesight are also discovered in many cases, and the parents

informed that there is need to consult an oculist. Other physical

weaknesses, as they thus come to light, can be dealt with similarly if

need be, and the knowledge of them is most valuable in dealing with the

girls in their work. The experiment of medical inspection, as Miss Buss

tried it in her school, has proved an immense benefit, and the idea lay

very near her heart that all schools—especially all girls’

schools—should do likewise. It is one of my regrets that she never knew,

she was too ill, that three memoranda on the subject were given in

evidence to the Royal Commission on Secondary Education, one of the

three being by our medical inspector, Miss Cock, founded on the

experience of the North London Collegiate School.

“As regards intellectual education, it was characteristic of her that

she had not the slightest tendency to attach more importance to her own

than to other subjects. This was not simply—it was partly—the

consequence of an all-round logical view; it went with her elasticity of

imagination and extraordinary power of entering into and sympathizing

with things outside her experience in the ordinary sense. This is the

ideal Prime-Minister quality, and it was hers. She was not a musician,

she did not know mathematics; but I suppose she has not left the

impression more strongly on any two people of understanding their ideals

and supporting them with enthusiasm and sympathy than upon Mr. John

Farmer, of Balliol College, with reference to music, and upon myself in

mathematics. And in itself it is a noteworthy fact that she struck from

the very beginning on the idea that science should be an essential part

of the school curriculum, and elaborated it to so high a pitch that her

school was early described by others as _par excellence_ ‘the science

school.’ Her own scholarship was great in History and in French—genuine

fine scholarship, with the unrivalled power of graphic description and

interesting memory of events which make history-teaching and is so rare,

and with delightful freshness and power in handling a language with a

class. On this side of her work she was herself the perfect artist. For

the study of science there had been little opportunity in her girlhood,

but just what had been denied her was just what she most energetically

supplied. I think she would have been great in science: her mind was

scientific in its ways of work, and she had the practical constructive

talent that, added to thinking power, makes the physicist. The concrete

sciences would have attracted her intellectually more than the abstract.

“But in her ideal of education she came quite naturally and easily

outside her own intellectual tastes and acquirements. So natural was

this to her that she has doubtless left the impression on many of the

younger generation that she was mainly a great administrator rather than

also a great teacher with special tastes and powers of her own.

“Thus it was the more natural to her to realize instinctively, as she

did consciously, the doctrine of the harmonious development of all the

powers as the aim of the school education.

“Even the casual observer could not fail to have been struck by the

ever-growing, ever-assimilating nature of her mind. In this respect she

never grew older; never grew as middle-aged as many people are mentally

at twenty-five. Like the Athenians, she was always ready to hear some

new thing. She was ready to give any reasonable theorist a hearing,

though not necessarily to erect new altars to his ideals. Whenever she

heard of any idea that promised, she would, in later years, speak of it,

and have it discussed at our teachers’ meeting. Then, if it seemed well,

we would hear the propagandist in a lecture, and afterwards discuss the

subject again. The sequel depended on the opinion formed, but most new

ideas, special and general, came our way. The Harrow Music School, the

Royal Drawing Society, and Miss Chreimann’s Calisthenics may be

mentioned in particular as having received her recognition very early.

“Mr. Farmer writes as follows—

“Oxford.

“DEAR MRS. BRYANT,

“It is very difficult for me to write that which I feel

about the loss of Miss Buss.

“Miss Mary Gurney first introduced me to her.

“Soon after that she asked me to examine the music in the North

London Collegiate School. I was afraid at first that she would

not understand my point of view with respect to the study of

music in high schools, But, instead of being misunderstood, she

gave me her sympathy and help from the first in my endeavour to

make music an earnest and educational part of school-work.

“Miss Buss was not a young head-mistress when I first knew her;

but she was, like my greatest school-friend, Dr. Buller, Miss

Mary Gurney, and the dear old Master of Balliol, fearless in her

belief in all that was for the good of schools, and especially

in the redemption of music from being a time-wasting, emotional

accomplishment.

“Miss Buss allowed me to introduce the Harrow Music School

standard text, the purpose of which was to do away with the mere

swagger of certificate-giving, and to make it more a test of the

general work of the school in music. She was always so glad to

find that the majority of girls who did well in music were just

those who were doing well in other school-work.

“I shall always remember her patience and kindness in her

presence during the long examinations. She was never shocked at

my hopes, mostly very wildly expressed, for the future of music

in the education of girls.

“Music, above all studies, needs backing up with the advantage

of a thoroughly good education. It has always been my endeavour

to keep it from encroaching unfairly on the time and strength of

the girls. Miss Buss understood this, and helped to make it

understood.

“You have, my dear Mrs. Bryant, for so long been a witness to

that which I have so clumsily described. Please forgive me.

“Yours very truly,

“JOHN FARMER.”

“To the same purpose is a letter from Dr. Ablett, head of the Royal

Drawing Society—

“So many evidences have come to me of the great part Miss Buss

has played in the development of education, and she gave such

willing and helpful support to the work of this society that I,

personally, unfeignedly mourn her loss.

“Our council will be sorry to lose one of its members who, by

her world-wide reputation, added strength to, and won confidence

for, it.

“Miss Chreimann also bears similar witness—

“Miss Buss was amongst the first to introduce into her school

the eclectic (and original) series of physical exercises which

have been termed my ‘system,’ though my own feeling would always

be—

‘For forms and systems let the fools contest:

Whate’er is best administered is best!’

My aim is to secure equal balance in all the working organs of

the body, with permanence of function and steady gain in beauty

and order, rather than to teach any particular set or sets of

exercises.

“Miss Buss had early been impressed by the vastness of waste

consequent on the physical disabilities of girls, and still more

by the need of the grace that goes with well managed strength.

It was for these ends that she urged me to give my time to the

training of teachers, and the subsequent inspection of their

work, rather than to the endeavour after a physical culture,

which she agreed was necessary, but which was years in advance

of the sentiment, alike of the parents and of the majority of

educationalists.

“Miss Buss probably did more than any other public

school-mistress for the knowledge and adaptation of physical

training to the requirements of girls.”

In conclusion, Mrs. Bryant adds—

“It was with the same eagerness to learn and get help and light

wherever it could be found that Miss Buss welcomed the

institution of the University Examinations for schools and

scholars. Her gratitude to the University of Cambridge for

having been the first to come to the help of the girls was very

beautiful and touching. It would have had to be a very good

reason indeed that would make her substitute Oxford for

Cambridge, and the loyalty of her affectionate preference for

Girton over all other colleges was tender and very deep. She

loved Cambridge as if it had been her own _Alma Mater_. It was

the _Alma Mater_ of so many of her girls in the early struggling

days.

“I spoke of energy of will as one of her striking qualities, and

her whole life illustrates this so well that it only remains to

indicate its influence on the inner life of the school. She was

not always quick to decide unless it was necessary, and then she

decided instantly. Otherwise she deliberated before decision

with great care, weighing all sides of the matter, as she would

say. But once decided, she acted at once, and kept on acting

till the thing was done. That was where she economized force,

and in it lay the secret of much of her power and her tradition.

Her own mind did not admit of pause between decision and act,

and probably there was no quality in other people which tried

her patience more than hesitancy after it was certain what ought

to be done. How natural it is to some people is well known, but

by effort and practice the tendency can of course be mitigated,

if not cured. North-Londoners, from association with her, got

into the way of resembling her to some extent in this respect.

It became the habit of the place—may it long continue—to get

under way with one’s piece of work the instant one knew what it

was. I am very inferior to many of my colleagues in this

respect, and only disguise the fact by economy of another kind,

which perhaps goes naturally with a more slowly moving will; the

economy, namely, of doing my piece of work so that it has not to

be done again. But for simpler things there is no call for this

economy, and the comfort is great of being surrounded by persons

whose instinct it is to translate the idea into the action at

once.

“Her energy was her most obvious quality in school. Everybody

saw that, and each felt that she individually had to live up to

it. Still obvious, but deeper, was her boundless faith in the

possibility of achieving good ends. The choice of the school

motto, ‘We work in hope,’ was characteristic. She pursued her

ends without delay; she pursued them also with the confidence

that in some way or other they would one day be gained. About

her ends her will would be inflexible; about the means of

accomplishing them her invention was elastic, and her mind open.

And I suppose few persons in this world ever carried out their

ends with so much or such well-deserved success. Her secret was

to be uncompromising about essentials only.

“Her faith in the latent possibilities of character, even when

most unpromising, amounted to a principle of educational action,

which she wielded with marvellous effect, because its hold was

even more strong on her heart than on her head. She seemed

almost to believe—but this is an exaggeration—that any one could

be made to do or become anything. She produced wonderful results

in the way of training up efficient workers when others would

have despaired; though sometimes she did it at immense cost to

herself. She believed in every one, but she would let bad work

pass with no one. She was at once the strictest of critics and

the least despondent. Thus she made what she would of many,

especially of those who had very much to do with her in the

earlier years. Not that she was ignorant of their limitations

either, but limitations did not trouble her. She had absolutely

none of that restless critical spirit which requires that

everybody should be made to order, all over again, and

different. She took them as they were, loved them, and made the

best of them in both senses.

“Every girl was good for something to her eye and in her heart.

It was her business—our business—to find out how the most could

be made of her, and to make it. And just in proportion as good

in people was the reality she saw, so was their evil, for the

most part, a transitory unreality. Young people at least are apt

to be and do what you expect of them. She dwelt on the good,

insisted on it to them, wrestled for it with them, established

it in them, and straightway forgot the evil or remembered it

only as a passing phase. And the sign of this large-hearted

sympathy in an optimistic temperament is shown in the special

devotion to Miss Buss of all the so-called naughty girls.

“It is needless to enlarge on her possession of the

administrator’s gift of relying with generous trust upon her

tried helpers. This, too, was in her a matter of the heart quite

as much as of the head. She felt about them as one with her in a

joint work of which in all its phases she spoke as ‘ours,’ not

as ‘mine.’ It was pleasanter, more natural to her, to be the

controlling centre of a plural will than to be a single will

governing others with more or less allowance for their freedom.

As regards the question of the relation of the head to her

assistants, this might be described as the theory of her

practice, elastic as all theories must be in a mind of truly

practical genius. She believed thoroughly in the legal autocracy

of the head as the best form of school government, but in her

view of the autocrat’s standard for himself she expected him to

exercise rule with due regard for ministers and parliaments.”

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Frances Mary Buss and her work for education · 第 9 / 14 章