“The vocation of a teacher is an awful one. You cannot do her real good; she will do others unspeakable harm if she is not aware of its awfulness. Merely to supply her with necessaries, merely to assist her in procuring them for herself—though that is far better, because in so doing you awaken energy of character, reflection, providence—is not fitting her for her work; you may confirm her in the notion that the training an immortal spirit may be just as lawfully undertaken in a case of emergency as that of selling ribbons? How can you give a woman self-respect, how can you win for her the respect of others, in whom such a notion, or any modification of it dwells? Your business is, by all means, to dispossess her of it; to make her feel the greatness of her work, and yet show her that it can be honestly performed.”—F. D. Maurice, Lecture on opening Queen’s College.
It is always of interest to compare dreams with deeds, the ideal with the actual. And this we are enabled to do with regard to Miss Buss’ educational ideals, since we have first her own words at different stages in her work, before any change was made, as well as during the time of transition; and afterwards, from a keen observer, we have a summary of results, and see how the dream had become fact, how the aim was attained.
There is very little of Miss Buss’ writing to be found in print. But we have one letter written, in 1868, to a lady in Otago, and published in a colonial paper, which gives us her ideas and her aims for future work just before the great change.
“North London Collegiate School for Ladies,
“12, Camden Street,
“Nov. 13, 1868.
“Dear Madam,
“I have read with much pleasure your interesting account of the progress of education in your colony. You will soon leave the old country behind if you go so rapidly. There is much to be done before it can be said that England has a great national system of education....
“Lord Lyttelton has taken a deep interest in education, and has especially devoted himself to the consideration of the question in relation to girls. If you have not seen it, I recommend to your notice the Report of the Schools Inquiry Commission presented to the Imperial Parliament at the beginning of this year. It forms the first of a series of twenty-one Blue books, all of which are interesting for all who care for middle-class education. The chapter on the education of girls was, I believe, written by Lord Lyttelton.
“The school of which I am head-mistress was opened eighteen years ago, under the immediate patronage of the local clergy. The girls’ school followed almost immediately the opening of a boys’ school, which has numbered about four hundred for some years past. Both schools have from the first been entirely self-supporting. The girls have, however, outgrown their accommodation in two good-sized houses, but will, I trust, in time be located in a suitable building. The schools have always been conducted on what is here called the ‘conscience clause’; that is, the parents have the right of omitting the Church of England Catechism or any part of the religious teaching they object to. Even Jewesses[[9]] have received their whole education in the school.