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.”

Dorothea Beale: Principal of the Cheltenham Ladies' College, 1858-1906 · 第 10 / 12 章