During the later part of her life Miss Clough had been obliged to let some of her work be lightened, and to give the management of Clough Hall to Miss Katharine Stephen, who had formerly been Miss Gladstone's secretary; but she still kept an eye on everything that happened in the College, and many things far beyond. Miss Clough had always felt a deep interest in the colonies, and she kept up a correspondence with past students who had made educational ventures in many distant parts. As one of them said, "her interest in us seemed to vary directly as the squares of the distances," though certainly those nearer to Cambridge would not have accepted such a formula. Such schemes as the mixed education for blacks and whites in Jamaica, the starting of a loan library in tropical Australia, the opening of a boarding-school for aristocratic girls in Siam, aroused her warm interest and often called forth wholesome advice as well as sympathy. She was always able to enjoy a quiet country holiday in vacation time. The pleasures of friendship brought her comfort and enjoyment all her life, during the latter part of which she had the companionship of her niece—daughter of the brother to whom she had owed so much in her early intellectual development—and much care and solicitude from some of the lecturers and of the elder students. She may be said to have died in harness. The last time that she appeared at a meeting for students was to interest them in Mr. Morant's educational efforts in Siam. One of the last visitors from abroad whom she received, lying on a sitting-room couch, was a lady from Australia who could bring tidings of a University hostel managed by a former student. Miss Clough was not sure that this student was working on the best lines, and was anxious to hear about her and to send her a message of kindly warning.

The end came quietly on February 27th, 1892. To very many it seemed as if the world could never be quite the same without her. Certainly the College, however wisely and generously conducted, was bound to follow new courses. Yet in a sense Miss Clough was felix opportunitate mortis. She had lived to see her work set on a stable footing; she might safely leave it in the hands of those like-minded with herself; and she was spared the pain of friction and later of bitter opposition which the College and its promoters had to suffer in seeking a permanent place within University borders.

Miss Clough's kinsfolk showed great breadth of mind, generosity, and appreciation of her own desires and feelings, in arranging that the funeral should be rather of a collegiate than of a family character. She had expressed a wish that her remains should rest in a churchyard rather than a cemetery, and as she possessed a little property in the parish of Grantchester, the burial was in the pleasant ground attached to the church there. A simple slab was afterwards erected with name, date, and the words: "After she had served her generation by the will of God, she fell on sleep." The first part of the service was, by the kind offer of the Provost and Fellows of King's College, read in the beautiful chapel of that College, the services of which had been to her, for many years, a perpetual solace and aid. The Staff of Newnham walked behind the coffin. The Chapel was crowded with members of the University and a great number of former students from all parts of England. The following Sunday (the First in Lent) it fell to Dr. Ryle (now Dean of Westminster) to preach a sermon, and the subject suited to the season and also to Miss Clough's character and work suggested his text: "Endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ." His reference was very appreciative and delicate. Perhaps it might have struck some hearers that though Miss Clough would have thoroughly appreciated the idea of service in the Christian army, she might not have considered that she had "endured hardness" as much as many others. Her strenuous efforts and personal restrictions were so entirely dictated by the needs of her cause and of the individuals in her charge, that there was no place for asceticism in her life, though much for plain living and high thinking.

The figure of Miss Clough must necessarily look large in the history of Newnham College, since she was both its principal founder and its first head. But it would be useless labour to compare her with other founders and heads. Her objects and her way of obtaining them were peculiar to herself in her particular milieu. When she was removed, others who had supported her were ready to follow up her work, perhaps on more consistently stated principles, with somewhat more of theory in the background. But there were some ideas at the basis of the College recognised only by those who had caught her spirit, either by working under her in life or by imbibing the moral and intellectual atmosphere which for a long time has kept the College sound and wholesome. The mental and moral debt of the present College to her, and to those one may call her disciples, has been more or less manifest already, and will appear more evident in the sequel.

CHAPTER IV
NEWNHAM COLLEGE IN PROGRESS, 1892-1911—PRINCIPALSHIP OF MRS. SIDGWICK.

The loss of Miss Clough seemed to remove the College from its early—one might say heroic—period to the regions of ordinary history. Yet there was something uncommon in the circumstances under which her successor was appointed. At the Council Meeting after Miss Clough's death, a strong wish was expressed that Mrs. Sidgwick, who had already once given up, with her husband, the privacy of home life, might be induced to become the second Principal. Newnham wanted them, and they came; making, as one would expect, the very least of any personal inconvenience involved in once more giving up their house. As Sidgwick said to a friend,[9] "What we feel most strongly is that after Miss Clough's death it is the duty of all who have given their minds to Newnham to 'close ranks,' and take the place that others assign to one. We hope it will be for the good of the College."

For a short time Mrs. Sidgwick was obliged to live a divided life, part at Hillside, part at Newnham. But in December 1893 the Principal's new quarters were ready, and she and her husband moved into them.