What, it is often asked, was the secret of her really marvellous influence? Personal magnetism she undoubtedly possessed, and that of a rare and abiding quality, a quick eye to perceive, and a touch which could evoke the best even in the most unlikely. But her influence and power for good came surely as much from what she would not do as from what she actually did for her children. Her strength lay in what she would herself call ‘passive activity.’ It was her claim not to teach them so much as to lead them to the One Teacher, to bring them into such relationship with Him that they could hear His Voice. For that inner Voice which must at all costs be obeyed she bade them listen, with pure and undefiled conscience,—the ear of the soul. Thus each who tried to follow her teaching left the College not merely as a devoted pupil of Miss Beale, possibly even indifferent to her, but with a clearer consciousness of the ‘Light that lighteth every man,’ and the paramount necessity of walking in it.

Was the strenuous life all they learned at Cheltenham? It was doubtless not easy to tell the whole. The strength and greatness of their Head lay not alone in devising and carrying out important and detailed work. It lay also—though this was less readily seen—in an unwearied watchfulness of affection, in a sympathy never estranged, in active thoughtfulness, in a memory for all that was hopeful and fair in the lives and characters which came under her care. Remembering these, there comes ultimately to the mind the thought of how little she really cared for human judgment, just or unjust; how she would say that there was but one Voice to listen for, one word of approval worth earning, since the Lord Himself had said about a woman’s work, ‘She hath done what she could.’


CHAPTER XVI
LETTERS

‘The living record of your memory.’

Shakspere, Sonnet lv.

Miss Beale enjoyed both receiving and writing letters. She kept a very large number, especially of those from old pupils. A letter which told of help or inspiration gained through the life at College would be put away, labelled in her own peculiar and favourite abbreviated way: ‘Sent 2 chēr me.’ She was a very ready and at times a very voluminous correspondent. She attended to all her letters herself, and answered all to which she intended to reply, not merely by return of post, but often the moment she received them. If her answer was of some importance she would keep it by her for a time, and often rewrite it before finally sending it. Her papers include a very large number of drafts and copies of letters which she sent. The chief part of her correspondence was done before the school hours began each morning, and she generally came to her place at 9 A.M. with her morning letters already answered. Where she found she could help by means of letters she would spare no pains nor time over them.

Perhaps Mrs. Charles Robinson received more than any one else. In 1878 Mrs. Robinson, then Miss Arnold, left Cheltenham to become a teacher at the Dulwich High School. She was at that time in a state of great religious perplexity; dissatisfied with the teaching of the Plymouth Brethren, among whom she had been brought up, unable to accept that of the Church, she would not attend the services of either. During this time of gloom Miss Beale wrote every week to Miss Arnold a letter she might receive on Sunday morning, and all her life remained a constant correspondent. It is fitting that this chapter of letters should begin with some of those written to the ‘best-beloved child.’[104]

To Miss Arnold:—