E THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES Ex Libra SIR MICHAEL SADLER ACQUIRED 1948 WITH THE HELP OF ALUMNI OF THE SCHOOL OF EDUCATION LIFE OF EDWARD THRING EDWARD THRING HEADMASTER OF UPPINGHAM SCHOOL LIFE DIARY AND LETTERS BY GEORGE R. PARKIN, C.M.G. M.A., HON. LL.D. UNIVERSITY OF NEW BRUNSWICK PRINCIPAL OF UPPER CANADA COLLEGE 3Lontion MAC MILL AN AND CO., LIMITED NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1904 All risk's rtstrved First Edition, i vols., Extra Croivn 8vo. Second Edition, i vol. (abridged), January 1900. Reprinted 1 904 Education Library LB THIS RECORD OF A STRENUOUS LIFE SPENT IN THE PURSUIT OF EDUCATIONAL TRUTH I DEDICATE TO MY FELLOW TEACHERS THROUGHOUT THE ENGLISH-SPEAKING WORLD PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION EDWARD THRING was unquestionably the most original and striking figure in the schoolmaster world of his time in England. During the last few years of his life he had come to fill a larger place in the public eye than any other English teacher. Abroad he was the only English schoolmaster of the present generation widely and popularly known by name. " Thring is my ideal of the hero as a schoolmaster," was said to me by the head of the educational system of one of the Australasian colonies. The same thought, variously expressed, has come from many parts, near and remote, of the lands in which our English tongue is spoken. It is reverently cherished by great numbers of pupils who came under his immediate influence ; by fellow teachers, men and women, who had learned to look upon him as a master and leader ; and by many others who had fallen under the spell of his strangely stimulating and inspiring personality. To this view there was an opposing note. x LIFE OF EDWARD THRING " I will have nothing to do with making a hero of Thring," was the remark made by the head of another great English school, when asked to join in a teachers' memorial to the headmaster of Uppingham. There is reason to think that the words embodied the feelings of a group, small perhaps, but not uninfluential, among his English contemporaries. To those who knew the man well this conflict of opinion seems most natural. There were types of mind and tendencies of thought constitutionally and instinctively repellent to Thring ; in contact with them he withdrew coldly into himself. It may well be that the repulsion was mutual. Besides this, his defiance of tradition, his equally re- solute opposition to many modern tendencies of educa- tional thought and work, his criticism of systems strongly intrenched and widely accepted, his undisguised con- tempt for what he thought false glory in schools, ensured antagonism as well as devoted following. Between these opposing views I have no intention as a biographer, to attempt to decide. Nor would Thring have wished me to do so. " Let no one write Latin humbug, or English either, over my bones. No word of praise or blame, if they love me." These are his own words which confront me as I try to link together the story of his life. I take them to mean that he preferred to trust his reputation to the state- PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION xi ment of fact rather than to the advocacy of friendship or personal loyalty. He certainly thought that he had a mission in the world ; that he had important educational truth to work out in concrete form, and to impress upon the mind of his generation. This belief he never con- cealed ; he stated it as opportunity offered in speech and writing ; through a long teaching life he strove to crystallise it in outward form and fact. Yet he looked upon himself chiefly as a sower of seed ; that this seed of truth in schools should take root, grow, and fructify would have seemed to him of much more account than the settlement of any claim to heroic memory. In using the material at my disposal for this biography I have kept in mind chiefly two classes of readers. The first consists of those who wish to extract from the records of a teacher's life the thought, experience, or principles which may be of practical use or suggestive value in their educational work ; the other, that large class of pupils, parents, fellow teachers, and friends who, through reverence for the man himself or interest in the school which he built up, will value even slight details which throw light upon his mind and character, and upon the history of Uppingham. It has been with this latter class in view that I have made liberal use of the diary which Thring kept during many years of his life. xii LIFE OF EDWARD THRING An effort has been made to arrange the matter so that the portions of professional or general interest may be read advantageously apart from those which consist chiefly of personal or school details. With the feeling that readers of this biography would wish to know what Thring was rather than what I thought of him, my plan has been to allow him, as far as possible, to speak for himself, The material for doing this has been for some periods very slight for others so abundant that the chief difficulty has con- sisted in selection and arrangement. The one object I have kept in view in making my selections has been to elucidate the great principles on which his work was based. In a few solemn lines written a few weeks before his death, but when he was still strong and had ap- parently many years of active work before him, Thring said to me that if ever anything had to be written about Uppingham and his work there, he would like me to do it. At the time when his unlooked-for death compelled a decision, circumstances made it exceedingly difficult for me to undertake the task ; the terms of his request made it still more difficult to refuse if any record of his life drawn from his own papers was to be preserved. For the delay which has taken place in the completion of a task assumed under such con- ditions I have no apology to offer. The pressure of PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION xiii other and imperative duties has made it necessary to do the work at intervals during years filled with strenuous occupations in many parts of the world. For the steadfast trust reposed in me by those most closely connected with him, and therefore most inter- ested in the completion of this work, my grateful thanks are due. No one can be more conscious of the imperfections of this record than myself. But if it helps in some slight degree to scatter more widely the seeds of that educational truth for which Edward Thring sacrificed and suffered so much, it will not have been written in vain. G. R. P. UPPER CANADA COLLEGE, TORONTO^ CONTENTS CHAPTER I PAGE CHILDHOOD AND EARLY SCHOOL LIFE, 1821-1832 . i CHAPTER II ETON, 1832-1841 15 CHAPTER III COLLEGE AND CURATE LIFE, 1841-1853 ... 40 CHAPTER IV THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM, 1853-1859 . . 55 CHAPTER V THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM (continued), 1859- 1869 .... ... 93 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING CHAPTER VI PAGE SCHOOL COMMISSIONS . . 145 CHAPTER VII THE HEADMASTERS' CONFERENCE . 168 CHAPTER VIII EXTRACTS FROM DIARY, 1870-1875 . 182 CHAPTER IX METHODS AND IDEALS . 216 CHAPTER X CORRESPONDENCE, 1864-1875 . . 282 CHAPTER XI THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH, 1875 . 328 CHAPTER XII UPPINGHAM BY THE SEA . 361 CHAPTER XIII AFTER BORTH, 1878-1886 . 389 CONTENTS xvii CHAPTER XIV PACK CORRESPONDENCE ON EDUCATIONAL AND GENERAL QUESTIONS 423 CHAPTER XV CORRESPONDENCE WITH MRS. EWING, 1883-1885 . 463 CHAPTER XVI "WORK TILL THE END OF LIFE, AND LIFE TILL THE END OF WORK," 1 887 . . . 476 CHAPTER XVII PERSONAL AND OTHER RECOLLECTIONS . . 496 INDEX . . 515 PORTRAITS EDWARD THRING . .... Frontispiece MEMORIAL STATUE OK EDWARD TURING, BY THOMAS BROCK, R.A., AT UPPINGHAM To face page \ ,..-4(c//i ff>r/ ///>!rt- . '^1 , ' .. f>/ //////' >///// ft / VU< CHAPTER I CHILDHOOD AND EARLY SCHOOL LIFE 1821-1832 EDWARD THRING was born at Alford, in Somersetshire, on 2pth November 1821. His father, John Gale Dalton Thring, was rector and sole landed proprietor of the parish of Alford. He married, in 1811, Sarah, daughter of the Rev. John Jenkyns, vicar of the neigh- bouring parish of Evercreech, and prebendary of Wells. Seven children, of whom Edward was the fifth, were the surviving offspring of this marriage. 1 1 Theresa, born 1815, married Rev. A. O. Fitzgerald, Archdeacon of Wells; died 1867. Theodore, born 1816 (Eton and Cambridge), Registrar of Bankruptcy Court, Liverpool, 1862; judge in same, 1866; succeeded to his father's estate, 1874; died 1891. Henry, Lord Thring, born 1818 (Shrewsbury and Cambridge), parliamentary counsel, 1869-86; K.C.B., 1873; created Baron Thring of Alderhurst, 1886. Elizabeth, born 1819, died 1859. Edward, the subject of this memoir, born 1821 (Eton and Cambridge), died 1887. Godfrey, born 1823 (Shrewsbury and Balliol College, Oxford) ; Rector of Alford with Hornblotton ; Prebendary of Wells ; compiler of Church of England Hymn Book, and author of many well-known hymns. John Charles, born 1824 (Shrewsbury and Cambridge) ; curate of Alford, 1855 5 assistant master Uppingham School, 1858-68 ; the Chantry, Bradford-on-Avon. . * B 2 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1821- The Manor of Alford is on the lists of Domesday Book, in which special mention is made of a mill, the foundations of which are still visible in the bed of the small River Brue which flows through the parish. The country around abounds in places of historic interest. The fosse road which runs along the Alford estate was the great highway in Roman times from Exeter to Ilchester and Bath, and must have echoed to the tramp of many a Roman legion. A few miles off is Cadbury Castle, with its wonderful triple ring of trench and earthworks ; its traditions of Arthur and Camelot ; its certainties of British and Roman occupation. On another side are Wells and Glastonbury, with their almost unique architectural and ecclesiastical history. In later life the rich historic surroundings of his old Somersetshire home stirred Thring deeply, and no doubt had their influence in stimulating his youthful imagination. The Old Manor House in which he was born, commonly known in the family as "The Cottage," has now disappeared. It was close beside the ancient village church, and was occupied by his father as the rectory until 1830, when, on the death of the grand- father, he removed to the family mansion, Alford House, a short distance off. Here Thring and his brothers and sisters grew up under the mingled influences of what was at once an affluent English country-house and a strictly-managed English rectory. Somerset is a hunting county, and the father's tastes made them familiar with horses and dogs. The rabbit warrens and pheasant coverts, which furnished shooting in their season ; the Brue, where they fished, or bathed, or learned to manage the coracles, which are still reproduced in Somersetshire from the old British models ; the fine 1832 CHILDHOOD AND EARLY SCHOOL LIFE 3 bit of park with its noble trees, its shrubberies, and rookeries ; the woods and fields and lanes of the estate ; all these gave ample room for the healthy outdoor life of the country. Here he imbibed that almost passionate love of nature, animate and inanimate, the intense interest in birds and beasts and plants which characterised him throughout life, and entered so much into his thought and teaching. To Alford he always remained deeply attached. Writing to his mother in 1880 he says: "You cannot think how my feelings are bound up in much of Alford so much so that I never allow myself to dwell on or call vividly to mind the dream that was not a dream of those old days. I could not bear it here with the incessant battle of life." The village contained only a small farming popula- tion, and as country houses and rectories are not very close together in rural Somerset, in the life at Alford there was something of that isolation which not unfre- quently makes for individuality of character in those brought up subject to its influences. But as the five brothers of the family were not widely separated in age, there was within the home itself abundant material for a cheerful boy life. Other companionship was not entirely wanting. The most intimate holiday playmates of the boys were their cousins of the Hobhouse family, whose seat, Hadspen, is but a few miles distant from Alford. These cousins were also to win distinction for them- selves in various walks of life. They included the present Lord Hobhouse, of the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council ; Bishop Hobhouse, formerly of the diocese of Nelson, New Zealand ; and the late Archdeacon Hobhouse, of Bodmin, in the diocese of Cornwall. 4 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1821- The relations between the two families seem to have been particularly affectionate and intimate. One of the Hadspen family remarks in a note : " I have always reckoned on all Thrings as steadily as brothers, and I never found them fail yet." In Edward Thring's Diary for 1862 he says: "Looking over the obituary in the Times this morning, I came suddenly on the death of my dear cousin, Henry Hobhouse. A letter from my mother this afternoon told me of his very sudden and quiet end. It is a great blow, breaking up Hadspen again, where all our childhood's feelings were so familiar, and all our ideas so intertwined with the Hobhouses, our nearest relations almost." The companionship of two such groups of boys must have had a healthy and stimulating influence on both. In holiday times the Hadspen boys came regularly twice a week to bathe at Alford, where the deep pools gave great opportunities for acquiring skill, especially in the art of taking headers. " There must have been something singularly inspiring in the waters of the Brue," writes one of the lads in later life to another, when exchanging congratulations on some new distinc- tion gained. It is, however, to his parents that we must look for the most powerful of the early influences which moulded Thring's character. But the respective influences of father and mother were in strong contrast. It was said by a keen and competent observer of men who knew John Gale Thring intimately, that he applied to the small details of family and parish government abilities which might have made him a great statesman or a great general. His own early desire had been to enter the army, but he took orders in deference to the strong wish of his mother. The duties thus assumed were 1832 CHILDHOOD AND EARLY SCHOOL LIFE 5 not, perhaps, entirely congenial to him, but they were discharged with conscientious care and fidelity. The parish was small, however, and the work light, leaving time for other things. He was a magistrate for the county as well as rector of the parish. He managed his own considerable estate. He had the fondness of English country gentlemen for outdoor life, and was known as the best and boldest rider in the county of Somerset. Winchester School, where he received his early training, and St. John's College, Cambridge, where he was at the head of one " side " when Lord Palmerston was at the head of the other, had made him a sound and polished scholar. His two elder sons received from him the whole of their preliminary training for Eton and Shrewsbury respectively. The Eton tutors of his boys, as school letters show, consulted him with deference on questions of classical teaching. If his teaching was sound his rule was rigid. He was a man of strong and unbending will, and none had better reason to know this than his own family. His domestic government was not merely strict it was autocratic and exacting. To the children who left home the wish to escape from paternal authority was, it may be suspected, a strong impulse to vigorous exertion in making for themselves an independent place in the world. The children who remained at home knew little relaxation of this authority even when they were much beyond the period of youth. " The fact that the Thrings as boys and young men did not revolt against their father's arbitrary interfer- ence with the details of their daily life always seemed to me a striking proof of the depth and sincerity of their Christianity," was said by an intimate friend and 6 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1821- relative who saw much of the home life at Alford in the early days. "Just, but hard," is the description given by another. A passage written by Edward when the prospect of training a young family lay before himself, throws light upon this side of his early home life, and shows the impression of lack of sympathy which it produced upon him. " Let us," he says, " learn to sympathise and bear with our children. Authority should be love. May we learn to treat them when grown up no longer as children. They will be wiser in many things in their generation, growing as they do with its growth, than we shall be with all our experience. The experience of the old deals rather with the principles of life very often than with the details of a younger generation. " It is better to draw out the feelings of children, even if the growth to a careless eye be somewhat too luxuriant, than to chill them back into a more precise culture, losing their hearts in the process. It is better to let children find experience in their own little world and roam in it with them, than to lift them up into your castle, even though it be a castle of truth, and enclose them in its stone walls." There are indications in Edward's correspondence and diaries of an almost exultant sense of freedom when at last he was quite free to think and act on his own responsibility, without consulting home authority indications which pretty clearly prove that that authority sometimes seemed a heavy burden. Yet throughout life he had for his stern old father a deep and sincere regard mingled with admiration. " Our gallant old father," he often calls him. For his good opinion he was ready to do and endure much ; no praise for work 1832 CHILDHOOD AND EARLY SCHOOL LIFE 7 done, and such praise was always hardly gained, did he value more than his. Behind the iron will and exacting disposition were a truth of character and a fidelity to duty which won and retained respect, if not the most ' tender forms of affection. They might well win and retain it in a son whose own character had in it elements which peculiarly fitted him to understand that of his father. Who that ever knew Edward Thring does not at times recall the vice-like grip of his jaws, the rigid stiffening of his lip, when he had made up his mind to sweep some obstruction from his path, or to crush insubordination ; the fierce light which flashed from his eye as he denounced the school sins with which he had to deal, or the greater sins of the greater world beyond ? His nature, indeed, seemed to have two sides, almost contradictory verging even on the antagonistic : one a resolute energy of fixed purpose in the defence or assertion of what he thought right, which was ready to bend or crush whatever opposed it, and which had at times little to distinguish it from the temper of a despot ; the other a tenderness of sympathy and humility of mind that made him seem like a little child in his relations to all around him. These were not mere moods, they were innate characteristics which dwelt in him side by side. That the sterner side of his character what many thought the arbitrary turn of his mind may be explained on the strictest lines of heredity, all who knew his father would prob- ably agree. That the gentler side of the man may have a parallel explanation seems equally clear. The father lived till the age of ninety, dying in 1874, after ne had seen the completion of his son's constructive work at Uppingham, with which, in its earlier stages at least, it must be said that he had little 8 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1821- sympathy. The ripe old age which he attained, how- ever, was far exceeded by that of the mother, who long survived her husband, and died in 1891, in the one hundred and second year of her age, and no less than eighty years from the time when she came to Alford as a bride. Mrs. Thring belonged to a family remarkable for its scholastic connections. Her ancestors had been beneficed clergymen in the county of Somerset for seven consecutive generations. Her eldest brother, Dr. Richard Jenkyns, became distinguished first as a tutor and subsequently as Master of Balliol College, Oxford, at the period when that ancient foundation was beginning to rise to that singular eminence for finished scholarship which it still holds among the other colleges of the university. Dr. Jowett, the late Master of Balliol, has described Dr. Jenkyns as combining in himself a mixture of the dignitary of the Church, a college Don, and a country gentleman, and as the person who had done more for the college than any one else in recent times ! Later he was appointed to the Deanery of Wells, continuing to hold the Mastership of Balliol for some time in con- nection with this new post. A successor at Wells has re- corded that he " showed for his cathedral the same large- hearted energy which he had shown before for his college." Another brother, Henry Jenkyns, was a fellow of Oriel, and afterwards professor of Greek and Theology at Durham University. An elder sister became the wife of Dr. Thomas Gaisford, the eminent scholar and Dean of Christ Church. Mrs. Thring was the second daughter and by no means the least remarkable member of this distinguished and intellectual family. Those who knew her in middle life remember in her a rare 1832 CHILDHOOD AND EARLY SCHOOL LIFE 9 combination of mental activity and of Christian char- acter at once gentle and firm. To those who saw her in her later years she presented a wonderful picture of a happy and interesting old age. Till long past ninety she retained her faculties almost unimpaired ; her hand- writing was as firm and clear as in middle age ; her memory was keen and retentive ; her literary interests scarcely diminished. The death of Edward in 1887 gave her a great shock, followed by a severe illness, and after an interval by a slight stroke of paralysis which deprived her of the power of speech. Even then the degree to which she retained her intellectual powers was extraordinary. She took the liveliest interest in literary conversation ; no touch of wit or humour, however delicate, was lost upon her ; a striking or well-expressed thought irradiated her face with smiles. The gentle and resigned patience with which she endeavoured to convey by signs to her nurses the wishes she could no longer express in words indicated a self-control quite remarkable. Once, and once only, after long and unavailing efforts to make her wants understood, did she burst into tears of vexation. The impression made by her character on her children was profound, and it was not merely one of tenderness. " Mother's idea, too, was that everything should be sacrificed to work and duty," says one of her sons. " A more saintly woman in practice and faith, I believe, cannot be found," writes Edward in his Diary. He dedicated to her his last volume of sermons, and always awaited her criticism on his work, and especially on his religious teaching, with the deepest interest. " Dear mother," he says on an anniversary, " sent me a letter which I hold to be one of the great rewards of my life." 10 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1821- " He never spoke of his mother without a tender dropping of his voice, which made one feel that all that sweetness and tender sympathy which was so marked a characteristic of him was an inheritance from her," writes a friend who had lived on intimate terms with him for years. Two reminiscences seem worth recording, as indicat- ing her habits of life or views of training. When more than ninety-five years old, and when the failure of her sight made reading difficult, she was able to recite from memory, and with seldom a mistake, the alternate verses of the Psalter, when her nurse, as was usual, read with her the Psalms for the day. The circum- stance suggests that Edward probably owed to his mother his curious familiarity with the Psalms, and his marked habit of finding in their words a channel for the expression of his deepest feelings. Once when asked for recollections of Edward's earliest years, his mother said that he " never seemed so happy as when he was lying on his face on the floor reading." A neighbour used to relate that, making a call one day at Alford, she discovered the lad, then six or seven years old, thus disposed in the library, and completely absorbed in a huge volume of Indian history. The visitor remarked to Mrs. Thring that it seemed a mistake to let the boy read a book so much beyond his years. The mother's reply was that no book which awakened such deep interest could be considered beyond a child's years. Half a century later Thring said that his most vivid conceptions of India were still those which he had derived from this volume. Of one of his later visits to his mother, Thring says in a letter to a friend : I was happy enough to be able to spend a fortnight with 1832 CHILDHOOD AND EARLY SCHOOL LIFE n my dear mother at Christmas. There is little to say. She was most bright and fresh, with a laugh like a child at any little bit of fun, taking great delight in having flowers near her, and very lovely she looked in her aged calm with the beautiful blossoms and leafage close to her. She gradually gets weaker, without pain or even discomfort, being drawn, you may say, slowly into light. I always thought, and now I have seen that the departure in peace should be rightly a happy, gentle pass- ing of life to life : there is no mourning in the house ; my sister-in-law last week said of herself, that one was filled with " solemn rejoicing." She has a lady nurse attending on her who has quite won her heart. It was pleasant to see her love for her nurse. The end on earth is very near now, we think. When some six weeks ago she had an attack of illness, she was heard in the night praying gently, and saying " how happy she was." To us the mixture of joy, bereavement, and peace is the strangest and most incomprehensible feeling the irreconcilable reconciled, and yet not quite. But she was destined, as I have mentioned, to out- live her son. In what has been said may be discerned the two chief forces from which Edward Thring derived his character and early impressions : on the one side a stern paternal authority grounded in a deep but severe sense of Christian duty ; on the other a singularly beautiful illustration of Christian life which was tender as well as strong. It seems pretty clear that during many years the gentle mother thought it well at times to act as an intermediary between the strong-willed father and equally strong-willed son when they came into conflict on questions of judgment. The result was not always of the best. In a note which was apparently inspired by some experience of this kind in his early Uppingham days, Edward says : Anything is better than one parent dealing with children through the other. Let all be honest and open affection, and 12 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1821- the end will be happiness. But confounding the separate relations and differences of father and mother will but keep them from ever knowing their children, who cannot express their deeper and intimate feelings in a general form, in a lump, as it were ; whilst the children will mistrust and suspect an intercourse which they never can reach the exact truth about, writing neither to father nor mother, but to a shifting some- thing made up of both, and will in consequence gradually cease to open their hearts unreservedly at all. But differences vanished as time went on, leaving at last only the tender reverence of a Christian son for Christian parents. There is some reason to suppose that his father found the task of bending Edward's strong childish will less congenial work than teaching his elder brothers, and that this was in part the reason why he was sent away from home for education at an earlier age than they were. His first school, to which he went shortly after he was eight years old, was a private one at Ilminster, a town about sixteen miles distant from Alford. This school was at the time considered the best in that part of England, and was much patronised by the country gentlemen of Somerset. It was prob- ably equal to others of the period, and the master had a reputation for ability as well as for severity. This entry occurs in Thring's Diary at Uppingham forty-five years later : " Mrs. S. also told me she had been to see Mrs. Allen, wife of my first schoolmaster at Ilminster, and that she was immensely interested in the work here. This too came on me as a voice from another world, and I sent the old lady the book of Uppingham photographs, which has pleased her im- mensely. Both she and her husband worked very hard and never spared themselves, and though the school was dreadfully mistaken I believe they meant well." 1832 CHILDHOOD AND EARLY SCHOOL LIFE 13 But the immediate impression which the school and its methods made upon the lad was decisive and lasting. " All my life long," he said in a public address in 1885, "the good and evil of that place has been on me. It is even now one of my strongest impressions, with its misery, the misery of a clipped hedge, with every clip through flesh and blood and fresh young feelings ; its snatches of joy, its painful but honest work grim, but grimly in earnest and its prison morality of discipline. The most lasting lesson of my life was the failure of suspicion and severity to get inside the boy world, however much it troubled our outsides." Only a year or two before he died, when driving from Alford towards Ilminster with a dear friend, he said that the feeling of horror and dread which, as a small boy, he used to feel for that journey to school still came over him upon the road. " And," he added, " it was my memories of that school and its severities which first made me long to try if I could not make the life of small boys at school happier and brighter." The evidence shows clearly enough that this long remaining impression of restriction and misery had sufficient cause. One brother remembers that he was flogged for " a very little laugh " at dinner, when talking and laughing seem to have been alike forbidden. Another finds that his only recollection of pleasure at the school was in the hour of bedtime, and in one day during the half, when a master took the boys to visit some neighbouring quarries. At all other times they could only exercise themselves within the playground, which was surrounded on all sides by high walls. A trying change this for boys after the free, outdoor life at Alford. An old schoolfellow remembers that 14 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1821-1832 Edward's " talents " made him a favourite with the headmaster. He also states that the lad's inclinations already showed themselves in his fondness for " acting the schoolmaster " with a small class of boys whom he would get together and coach in their lessons. But whatever slight pleasure he got in this way, Ilminster left on his mind not only the strongest repugnance to an atmosphere of suspicion and restraint in the management of boys, but inclined him to look upon the larger freedom of a public school, with all its temptations to license, as on the whole infinitely prefer- able to the other. It was an entirely new and different school-world which opened upon him when, after three years at Ilminster, he was removed to Eton. CHAPTER II ETON 1832-1841 IT was in the autumn of 1832, while Dr. Keate was still headmaster, that Thring came to Eton. He was first entered as an oppidan at the house of Mr. Chapman, afterwards Bishop of Colombo, and later at that of Mr. Good ford, who subsequently became head- master and provost. The distinction between collegers and oppidans existed then as now at Eton. The opportunity which this great and ordinarily expensive school has always offered to its seventy scholars of securing an education on very easy terms made parents desire to get their sons placed upon the foundation as collegers. The pecuniary advantage of this was greatly enhanced half a century ago by the fact that from Eton a boy on the foundation pro- ceeded in due course to Cambridge to become a scholar, and finally a fellow of King's College, the scholarships and fellowships of that foundation being then reserved entirely for Eton collegers. But the advantage had its qualifications. When Thring came to Eton, places upon the school foundation were not, as now, won by competition, but were secured simply by nomination. 16 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1832- Strangely enough these valuable nominations were easily obtained. The numbers provided for by the foundation were seldom full. Even so late as 1841, the year in which Thring left, there were only two candidates for thirty -five vacancies. This state of things is sufficiently explained by the inefficiency of the discipline and organisation among the collegers, and by the treatment to which lower boys were subjected. Parents who wished to avoid the worst evils of Long Chamber, and yet secure the advantages of the scholar- ships, entered their boys as oppidans, and allowed them to remain such until the extreme limit of age was reached at which they could enter upon the foundation. This was the course pursued in Thring's case. His eldest brother, Theodore, who preceded him at Eton, was never on the foundation, but finally became captain of the oppidans, as Edward became as a colleger captain of the school. The latter remained at the school as an oppidan about three years, and then entered on residence as a colleger in 1835. An intimate companion of these days, the late Rev. J. C. Keate, son of the headmaster, was wont to recall the cheerful courage with which he reconciled himself, from a sense of duty, to a change which was extremely distasteful to him. Of his oppidan life only the barest hints can now be recovered. Mr. Chapman was also tutor and house- master to Theodore, and as the latter was now about completing his school course, and had, apparently with a fair chance of success, competed in two successive years for the lately-established Newcastle scholarship, the tutor's letters to Alford deal chiefly with the elder brother and his prospects. Of Edward in his first year at school he reports : " The little fellow goes on well 1841 ETON 17 too, but is not quite so steady at any but his poetical work as I would wish." In the following year he says : " The little fellow goes on capitally. He is a sharp, clear-headed, good little boy, and will, I hope, turn out a tasteful and correct scholar." Again in 1834 : " Since I last wrote little Edward has been doing well on all points, and has secured his reward." Mr. Chapman's letters to Thring's father show that he was one of those conscientious, painstaking tutors whose labours did much to mitigate, for the boys who happened to be under their charge, the admitted evils of the Eton system of his day. They prove clearly that under the direction of these tutors, if not in the class- rooms, much hard reading was done by boys of ability, who were willing to work. The account which he gives of one of the earlier examinations for the Newcastle scholarship indicates the breadth of classical reading and the practice in composition which were looked for in the best pupils at Eton at that time, or, at anyrate, the standard which the masters set before themselves. He says : Our examinations went off well. The successful candidate was a pupil of Coleridge's, the boy on whom all calculated. Having been successful at Oxford a year previous he entered the arena quite a practised gladiator. The examination con- tinued five days : the first four all on paper ; they then classed nine (three of whom I am glad to claim) and examined them in Xenophon and Cicero viva -voce. The first day was wholly divinity Matthew and Acts with miscellaneous questions. For the three following days they had to translate passages from Homer, Herodotus, Thucydides, Sophocles, Theocritus, Virgil, Horace, Livy, Pliny, with miscellaneous questions to each. In composition they had Latin elegaic verse, Latin theme, Greek hexameter, all original. Greek iambics from Shake- speare, Greek prose translation from Robertson, and Latin C 18 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1832- prose from Spectator. Pretty sharp work, but they stood it fairly, and next year there will be hard righting. The divinity and original composition were the strongest points, the trans- lations much the weakest. We must put Theo. into training, for the competition will become more honourable every year. Of thirty candidates nine were selected It will infuse a very right spirit into the school, and introduce a more healthy feel- ing, if I may so call it. ... I mean that saps must triumph ; no boy will carry it by talent only, the examination is too wide and general, the auxiliaries too few for a boy to trust to him- self. No dictionaries or lexicons allowed. For Mr. Chapman Thring always entertained the greatest regard and veneration. Twenty years after leaving Eton, when about to build his chapel at Upping- ham, he records with great delight, and as a happy omen, the fact that the first subscription paid towards it was from his old tutor, then Bishop of Colombo, and he adds : " I rejoice that it comes from one whom I honour and respect so much as I do him. It has cheered me greatly." And again in 1868 he writes: "I was glad to send Bishop Chapman one of my books. I have such a great respect for him, from the memory of the efforts which he made at Eton, under most impossible circum- stances, in old days, to do his duty by each boy, and the ability which almost made it not impossible, at a time when the idea of doing something for every boy entered no other heart or head of living schoolmaster as far as I know." After the restraints of Ilminster the first years as an oppidan at Eton gave the boy a wonderful sense of free life. Mr. Chapman was strict as a disciplinarian, but, as masters then went, not severe. One of his pupils of that period mentions particularly that he was not in the habit, as some masters were, of sending up boys to be 1841 ETON 19 flogged by the headmaster, but that he usually dealt with them by other means in his pupil room. In dis- cussing the question of corporal punishment at Upping- ham, Thring mentions in a letter to a parent that experience had made him well aware that the birch very distinctly abraded the skin of a boy, but whether this experience was gained at Ilminster or Eton does not appear. He seems, however, to have escaped the severer side of Eton life in this respect. In the matter of fagging, also, he was fortunate. He and his friend Mackarness were fags to his cousin, Arthur Hobhouse (now Lord Hobhouse), and no doubt the severities of the system were mitigated by the cousinly friendship of the boys, which was continued throughout life. Still the period of Thring's entry was not one at which a boy was likely to imbibe milk-and-water views of school life. He entered, as has been said, in October 1832. It was at the end of the previous term, on June 3Oth, 1832, that Dr. Keate made a noteworthy addition to the many traditions of Eton. In order to crush an incipient rebellion he flogged at one time more than eigTityTJoys. The lads were summoned in detachments from their boarding-houses after having retired for the night, and the work of punishment went on from ten o'clock till long past midnight. All names on the alphabetical list of the school from the letter M onward were subjected to this manifestly impartial discipline. From the headmaster's point of view the result justified the exceptional effort. The boys cheered him as he withdrew from the field of action, and his authority was never after seriously questioned. Great severity of rule has always been attributed to 20 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1832- Dr. Keate, and many of the tales, some apocryphal, some true, which illustrate this, are ridiculous enough. But those who knew him best are united in affirming that he was really of a singularly kind and gentle nature. The fact seems to be that when Keate took the headmastership of Eton he did so under the fixed impression that the place could only be held by an iron hand. This opinion was in a measure justified by the public school traditions and the prevailing temper of the time. It was still strong in Thring*s mind when he himself became a headmaster, much as he wished to mitigate the severities of school life. Mr. Chapman resigned his assistant mastership while Thring was yet an oppidan, and for a short time the boy was transferred to the house of Mr. Goodford. For Mr. Goodford, also, who afterwards became Provost, Thring always entertained a high regard. But the limit of time was soon after reached at which he could be placed on the foundation, and in 1835 he went into residence as a colleger. It is difficult now to picture adequately the school life to which this change introduced him ; still more difficult to realise that the conditions in which he was placed could have existed in the most famous of English schools only half a century ago. It is said that Arch- . deacon Hodgson was induced to accept the provostship / five years later, in 1840, chiefly by the wish to do some- thing to better the condition of the collegers. It is little wonder that the circumstances should have deeply moved the mind of a thoughtful and conscientious man ; little wonder that they should have suggested ideas of school reform even to a boy, and in later life given energy to the war which he waged on the barrack system of dealing with boys. We have a sketch of the 1841 ETON 21 domestic arrangements for the collegers written by an impartial hand. The nominal number of boys on the foundation was 70, and for these four dormitories only were provided. There was accommodation for 52 boys in Long Chamber a room 172 feet long, 2 7 wide, and 1 5 feet 6 inches high and for the remain- ing 1 8 in Lower Chamber, and in Upper and Lower Carter's Chambers, two smaller rooms which took their name from an usher in the early part of the eighteenth century. These rooms contained little beside the wooden bedsteads, 4 feet 6 inches wide, and a series of bureaus. Chairs and tables did not exist except for the privileged few, and the wind whistled through the gaping casements. Candlesticks were made by folding the cover of a school book, and cutting a hole in the middle of it to receive the candle. A college servant was sup- posed to sweep the rooms daily, to make the beds, and in winter to light the fires ; but this was all, and he did not sleep on the premises. 1 In point of fact the lower boys always had to make the beds of the 1 6 seniors, viz. the i o collegers in the sixth form, and the 6 in the " Liberty " at the top of the upper division ; and also to fetch water for them overnight from the pump in Weston's yard. They themselves, and members of the fifth form, had no chance of washing in college, for they had neither washstands nor basins. A deputation which waited on one of the authorities about the year 1838, with a request that a supply of water might be laid on in college, was dismissed with the rebuff, "You will be wanting gas and Turkey carpets next." A boy who passed unscathed the ordeal of a colleger's life must have been gifted in no common degree with purity of mind and strength of will. Without dwelling longer on this painful topic, it should be recorded that in 1834 the writer of a pamphlet entitled The Eton System of Education Vindicated, was obliged to admit that, wherever the fame of Eton had 1 Writing to his brother Theodore in 1873 on trie question of necessary school expenses, Thring says : " A great deal can be saved by the cheap and nasty in training, e.g. by such proceedings as we had in college at Eton one ill-paid servant to 70 boys." 22 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1832- spread, the name of Long Chamber was "a proverb and reproach." l In a paper apparently prepared for some school magazine, there is a slight but graphic picture, in Thring's own words, of the Long Chamber, and the chances it gave to boy life. After speaking of Ilminster and the school methods pursued there, he says : At the opposite pole to this, perhaps the old Long Chamber at Eton, now done away with for years, may be placed, with its seventy boys locked up from 8 P.M. till next morning, utterly without supervision, left entirely to themselves in the great, bare, dirty room in which they were supposed to live and did sleep. Who can ever forget that knew it the wild, rough, rollicking freedom, the frolic and the fun of that land of misrule, with its strange code of traditional ' boy-law, which really worked rather well as long as the sixth form were well disposed or sober ? Oh ! the unearthly delight of the leaping matches at the end of each school time when, all the mattresses spread on the hard oak floor to pitch on, and one to take off from, the collegers celebrated their Olympic games. Then the squibbing matches, and that memorable night when suddenly, in the midst of a well-contested fight, dimly descried amidst the smoke, the headmaster appeared, like " Titan on the misty mountain top," blazing with wrath, calling, as well as the dense cough mixture of vapour would let him, for the captain of the chamber, who was judiciously absent. Then the suppers, when they could be got, and the closely-packed set of boys seated on the beds round the fire- place. . . . Surely for ever this orbit of the memory holds sacred one beefsteak, which, plate on knee, was just beginning to disappear, when a malicious squib came straight at it ; up went the plate ; to lose the steak was not to be thought of ; up went the supporting legs ; a squib in the lap was also beyond a thought, and what was to be done? Too broad a surface still remained exposed to fire, the heroic sufferer held to his steak, the squib burnt out, and he resumed his 1 Maxwell Ly te's History of Eton College, pp. 411-13. 1841 ETON 23 seat slowly, victorious, though not unscathed, and solaced the wounds which no breastplate covered with mouthfuls of homoe- opathic beef. Shall song be silent of that Decius who slipped down the stairs on his back with his messmate's and his own pot of beer in his hand, and did not spill it, sternly upholding his steady hands in spite of each successive stair touchingly appealing to his bones? The endless tide of adventures comes streaming up as those days are recalled, days full of incident that rival anything in Tom Brown's experiences and the pleasant histories of his graphic pen. And all the time side by side with this went on the oppidan house life on the whole in a satisfactory, humanising, effective way. This wild college life was certainly a very different type from the sneak- as-you-please, but never- wet-your-feet existence of the private school, and it was the better of the two, for freedom is better than slavery ; but, alas ! for the waste and ruin in the future, the wretchedness, and coarseness, and idleness at the time which it brought on the majority of those cast into its whirl. It was not training, for training does not mean some boys turning out well in spite of disadvantages, a bit more than farming means the growth of grass and corn in spite of not draining and bad ploughing. Again in a paper published in 1862 he says: A mob of boys cannot be educated. Not five-and-twenty years ago, with open gates up to eight o'clock at night all the year round, and sentinels set the winter through, as regularly as in the trenches before Sebastopol, to warn us of the coming master, the boys of the finest foundation in the world starved their way up to the university. Whistle or hiss marked the approach of friend or foe. Rough and ready was the life they led. Cruel, at times, the suffering and wrong ; wild the profligacy. For after eight o'clock at night no prying eye came near till the following morning ; no one lived in the same building ; cries of joy or pain were equally unheard ; and, excepting a code of laws of their own, there was no help or redress for any one. Many can recollect this. In a note from his most intimate Eton friend the 24 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1832- late Bishop Mackarness there is a reference to the same subject : I will not pretend out of my less generous nature to pour forth the same hearty enthusiasm which comes from your perennial fountain. But I may say, without hypocrisy, that I do heartily sympathise with you in your untiring efforts to raise the business of education into a loftier sphere, and in your wish to banish the meaner elements of the work, as we have known it at Eton. Recollections of " My Dame's," and of " Jacob's Ladder," etc., and of various episodes in the daily life there, do not recall the nobler side of boyish character and feeling ! I trust that things are better now. A friend and contemporary of Thring has furnished some reminiscences which throw further light on the life in college at that time. He says : I remember he messed, that is to say, breakfasted, in private lodgings used by day, with a King's scholar like himself in honesty, muscular strength, and high -minded peaceful courage, John F. Mackarness (late Bishop of Oxford), then President of the Eton Society. . . . This privacy was a set-off against the noise and squalor of the " chambers " in which the college made us spend the winter evenings. In the chambers it was not easy even for a Thring or a Mackarness to read or write studiously. Once a year the eldest boys had to write a sort of compilation called an " Essay," and they began it in the last week. To secure silent hours they waited till the others were in bed ; half of them wrote by the fireside for the first half of the sleeping time, and then called the other half. I state this to show how unfit our dormitories were for students. But there were three recesses in a tower, of which two were dangerously damp; there were also about eight wooden cupboards with space for a writing-shelf, a seat, and a book- shelf or two. These, like the three recesses, were called studies ; students who could bear cold sat in them on winter evenings, locking out all uninvited boys. We sometimes paid rent to schoolfellows who had by seniority a right to these cells, and who were not studious. 1841 ETON 25 Then besides the studies we had by day the rooms in lodging-houses, 1 where we breakfasted, washed ourselves, kept our clothes and books, and received our visitors. These were real sanctuaries, known to exist, but never invaded by our teachers, much less by the Provost and fellows of our college. In the inviolability of these rooms we had a great advantage over the oppidans or non-foundationers. When not interrupted by the stupid class-lessons which we had to sit through about fifteen half hours a week, we could spend our day there in tranquil study and unobserved enjoyment of literature. The contempt here expressed for the ordinary class- work of the school, which was all upon which the collegers had to depend for instruction, seems fully justified, not only for them, but for the mass of Eton pupils. Wretched as were the appliances for giving the collegers a wholesome and comfortable school life, the provisions for giving instruction throughout the school, if we omit the private work to which reference has been made, were even more inadequate. When Dr. Keate became headmaster he found himself in sole charge of a class of 1 70 boys, and later the number increased to at least 200. This intolerable state of affairs led to some attempt at reform, but even then the headmaster was left in charge of 100 boys. We learn that in 1833, the year after Thring entered, there were only 9 masters to 570 boys in the Upper School. Manifestly no pre- tence even could be made of giving adequate individual training to the boys. Private work could not remedy a defect so great, except for a very few, and a tutor who was at all popular and successful was as much paralysed by numbers in the pupil room as in the public schoolroom. Classes so large that a boy could 1 In Thring's Diary occurs this entry, written twenty-five years after leaving Eton : " Sent .5 to-day to Mrs. Joel, where I had rooms at Eton. I hope she is alive. She was a good woman and kind. I should like to give her a little pleasure." 26 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1832- only reckon on being called up to construe two or three times during the half could scarcely seem otherwise than stupid. As a matter of fact, while the clever and willing had opportunities to learn, while the efforts of private tutors sent up pupils to the universities to win the highest distinctions, numbers of the careless and weaker boys were left to shift for themselves, without any serious effort being made to give them training. It has seemed necessary to outline at some length the conditions under which the lad's school years were spent, since they undoubtedly gave direction to the whole future career of the man. It was his own ex- periences as a boy which kindled in him that desire to make schools better, which finally became the one aim of his life. Already at Eton the leaven was beginning to work. A school-fellow writes : " I remember once hearing him talk against a particular point in the Eton system in a way that made me think that, though in- dustrious and ambitious, he was still very independent in his ideas of education." A few slight personal touches of his Eton life we have, more or less suggestive of characteristics which were to show themselves in the man. One story comes from his old school friend Witts, afterwards a fellow-worker at Uppingham. The spaces between the buttresses of the school chapel at Eton were used as fives courts ; indeed, from them the game is said to have had its origin, and the courts commonly in use their form. Thring, a very small fellow, had one day gained in the usual way, by early occupation, the right to use one of these courts. A big and bullying senior ordered him to give it up, and tried to enforce the order by the usual methods of schoolboy coercion. But threats, kicks, and blows could extort 1841 ETON 27 nothing save " I'll die first " from the lad, who had thrown himself on the flags, and in defence of his rights refused to move. The incident seems to have been public enough to impress the minds of the boys, and the cognomen of " Little Die First " is said to have clung to him for several years. Rev. Charles T. Hoskins, who for some time shared his rooms at Joel's, mentions that " at fives he would almost invariably choose the sharer of his room to ' take off' any other two on the 'four-wall,' however good they might be ; and so inspiriting was his resolute manner of playing that even his companion played the better for it, and he was seldom beaten." And another Eton contemporary, who has already been quoted, writes : " There was a game, then peculiar to Eton, played with one ball by two or four boys on flagged slopes between the buttresses of the chapel. In deference to ancestral arithmetic it was named after the two sets of fingers ' Fives.' Thring was a capital fives player, and this, I think, did much for his health both at school and afterward at college. I remember he used to make a good fight on the fives court with the captain of the cricket club, who had more reach. . . . His pluck and muscle were peerless." These reminiscences will interest many an old Uppingham boy who remembers how the headmaster and his friend Witts year after year chal- lenged the school champions at fives, and till near the age of fifty were never beaten. At cricket and football, in both of which he after- wards freely joined with his boys at Uppingham, he played a vigorous game, though not with such striking skill as at fives. His delight in athletics continued throughout life, and for more than a quarter of a 2 8 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1832- century his Diary, among all its records of more serious matters, rarely fails to mention the chief features of every athletic contest that occurred in the school. One of Thring's most intimate Eton friends describes him as a boy overflowing with fun and mischief. Another says : " The epithet which I would apply to him is ' sturdy ' sturdy in build, in mind, in principle, in fidelity, in antagonism to all that was wrong and false." A third notes : " I remember that as an upper boy he was in the habit of going, when school hours permitted, to an evening service at Windsor (very unusual for boys) with the late Bishop of Oxford. He bore a high character for integrity and honesty." Some sides of the free life which he lived at Eton always appealed strongly to Thring's individual char- acter. In his later life there was a current opinion that his aspiration was to make Uppingham an " Eton with- out Eton's faults," but he himself denied having con- sciously had such a thought in his mind. Love for the place and antagonism to the system as he had known it may be taken as his permanent after-feeling about his old school. When, during his Uppingham career, the headmastership became vacant, and a leading London journal had put forward his name as a suitable person for the post, the comment in his Diary is : " Were such an offer possible I could not accept it. I could not cure what I believe to be the evils of the Eton system, and I could not work on what I believe to be false lines." After spending nine years at Eton Thring's career at the school closed with an event very memorable in the life of a boy. As senior colleger and captain of the school he became captain of Montem in that year, the last occasion but one on which this once famous 1841 ETON 29 Eton festival, now become a vague tradition, was celebrated. In one form or another the institution of Montem is believed to have existed at Eton from the early days of Queen Elizabeth, probably having its origin in the ancient custom of electing and installing a boy bishop. Celebrated at first yearly and later biennially, it became during the last seventy years of its existence a triennial festival, and gradually developed into a great social function, and probably the most gorgeous spectacle which has ever been seen in connection with school life. The Sovereign, when in residence at Windsor, was usually present with other members of the Royal family ; ministers of State came down from London ; parents and friends of the Eton boys attended from a distance ; the equipages of the country gentry far and wide around Eton increased the throng and added to the brilliancy of the spectacle. At Thring's Montem in 1841 the newly-opened railway to Slough made it possible for great crowds of outsiders to reach Windsor, and add themselves to the mob of local sight -seers. The newspaper reports of the time mention the arrival of numerous London trains bringing as many as a thousand visitors each. The materials for gathering a clear idea of what the great Eton festival was like are probably more com- plete in the case of Thring's Montem than of any other. The presence of the newly -married Queen and the Prince Consort, who then saw the festival for the first time, led to the proceedings being very fully reported in the local and metropolitan journals of that date. Two pictures, painted at the time by Evans to repre- sent the chief figures among the boys who took part in it, are now in the possession of Lord Braybrooke. 30 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1832- Both of these have been engraved, and are probably well known to old Etonians. A very graphic descrip- tion of the festival, chiefly based on Thring's Montem, is given in Blackwood for September 1891, by the Rev. G. C. Green, who took part in the Montems of 1841 and 1844. Among Thring's papers is a complete col- lection of his Montem bills, showing all the receipts and expenditures in connection with it, and a letter from his mother to a relative, giving a pleasant description of the day's events. This full information makes it possible to sketch with some accuracy the main features of this great school function. Mr. Green, after describing Thring's Montem as " probably the gayest and most magnificent that had ever been seen," says : The spectacle itself was such a gorgeous one, and it was associated with so many old memories and associations of the past, that all old Etonians throughout the country, and all the friends and relatives of Etonians from far and near, strove to be present on that day, and curiosity drew immense numbers besides, who were perfect strangers, so that a greater crowd assembled at Eton on that day than has probably ever assembled there since its discontinuance, and every single person who was present was asked to contribute something, large or small, according to his means, and all the money so collected was given to the lucky boy who happened to hold the proud position of captain of Montem. The captaincy of Montem was decided as follows : Each year at the July " election trials," as they were called, the boys who had passed their eighteenth birth- day were placed in order of merit, the first on the list being captain of the school. Whenever vacancies occurred among the seventy members of King's College, the news was brought at once to Eton, when the head 1841 ETON 31 boy was required to proceed to Cambridge. Twenty days' grace was allowed him to make preparations for leaving school. " If the grace should happen to expire on the very eve of Montem day, the right of being captain would lapse to the colleger who was next on the list, so that the twentieth day before Whitsun- Tuesday in that year was a very critical day for those two boys, the captain and second colleger at that time. Till midnight it could not be known for certain who would be captain. We called that night ' Montem-sure Night.' We sat up late in our long dormitory, called Long Chamber. Just before midnight the ends of all those heavy wooden bedsteads were raised high in the air, the large wooden shutters were held by ready hands, and then, as the last stroke of midnight sounded from the clock tower, the shutters were slammed to, the bedsteads let fall on the floor with a thundering sound that could be heard in Windsor Castle, and ' Montem sure ! ' was shouted with all the power and energy that the excited young watchers could exert. The right of being captain was now vested absolutely in the senior colleger, and preparations for the event could go on uninterruptedly." These preparations undoubtedly interfered sadly with the work of the summer half, and offered many temptations to extravagance and drunkenness. The gorgeous dresses used on Montem day had to be ordered and fitted ; the captain was bound by custom to entertain his chief supporters at preliminary break- fasts and " tasting dinners " at Salt Hill. The boys themselves had to practise their parts ; and the expected inroad of visitors with its attendant excitements made serious work difficult or impossible. The nominal object of Montem was to make a col- 32 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1832- lection of money to be given to the captain to assist him in his university career. This collection on Mon- tem day was entrusted to two " salt-bearers " and twelve " runners," who, splendidly attired in fancy costumes, and usually protected by armed attendants, were stationed with their collection bags at various points : in Eton itself, at Maidenhead Bridge, Windsor Bridge, Datchet Bridge, Colnebrook, Iver, Gerard's Cross, Slough, and Salt Hill. Here they levied toll on all passers-by, giving in return to the contributors the Montem ticket, with its justifying inscription, Mos pro lege. Meanwhile the procession of the boys marching in military dress and array to Salt Hill (ad Montem} was the picturesque feature of the day's proceedings. With a royal bodyguard of regular troops drawn up and military bands playing, the boys marched around the school yard, under the eyes of the royal and other distinguished visitors who looked down upon them from the Provost's Lodge. " A long line we formed," says Mr. Green, " as may be easily imagined, being over 600 strong. So we streamed out into the Slough road on our march for Salt Hill. The procession was swelled all along its route by the thousands of visitors from all parts of England, on horseback, on foot, in every kind of conveyance, ladies in their gayest dresses, all com- bining to make such a picture as will never be seen again." At Thring's Montem the crowd was greater than had ever been known before. His brother Henry, 1 who had come down from Cambridge to be present at Montem, mentions a circumstance which illustrates the density of the throng. At the entrance to the inn at Salt Hill the crush in the procession was so great that 1 Now Lord Thring. 1 84 1 ETON 33 he became anxious for Edward's safety. On pointing out the danger to one of the soldiers on duty the tall grenadier leaned over, lifted the lad from the throng, and passed him on to comrades over the heads of the crowd till he was in a place of safety. The festivities among the boys began more than a fortnight before Montem day. Bills for large breakfast parties at the White Hart Inn appear as early as May 1 4th, and continue at intervals, while confectioners and cooks seem to have been busy supplying the captain's table at his own lodgings. For Montem day itself W. Atkins sends in accounts for: 160 gentlemen at breakfast at 6s. 3d. 50 o o 330 do. dinner at 6s. 6d. . . 107 5 o 60 polemen at 55. . . . . 1500 These charges only include the solid portions of the two chief banquets of the day. Botham, the landlord of the Windmill Inn, sends in a supplementary account. Some of the items must have furnished weighty argu- ments for the abolition of Montem. I select a few : 84 bottles port 5 returned . . ,^23 14 o 84 sherry 16 returned . . . 20 8 o 72 cider 30 returned . .440 48 do. steward's order . . . 4 10 o 48 porter . . . . . 280 96 champagne 14 returned . . 35 17 6 36 claret 10 returned . . . 13 o o Lemon juice . . . . 0180 Sugar 0180 Lemon and nutmegs . . . 070 2 bottles brandy . . . . i o o i barrel ale i 16 o The captain entertained his principal supporters D 34 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1832- among the boys at special tables, and for these there are separate bills 20 dinners (captain) . . . ^"1619 o 32 do. (salt-bearers) . . . 24 15 o 12 do. (runners) . . . 8 13 o The additional wine bill for these latter tables in- cludes 69 bottles of champagne, 1 3 of claret, 9 of hock, 1 1 of sherry, 3 of port, and 1 2 of cider, at a cost of $o : 1 6s., or an average of more than I 53. per boy for wine. After this it is not surprising to find the accounts closing with pretty large charges for broken glass. When dinner was over it was a custom for the boys to adjourn to the gardens of the inn, and there use the swords they carried in hacking the currant and goose- berry bushes, or decapitating the cabbages and other vegetables. A bill for damages of this kind seems to have been a regular item in the Montem charges, but none is found among Thring's accounts, and one of the journals of the time mentions that on this occasion the landlord of the inn recouped his losses by charging an admission fee to the grounds. This was paid by great numbers of people in order to watch the boys at their work of destruction. 43 : 12s. was paid to the band of the Life Guards ; 3 1 to that of the 6oth Rifles. The two hired attendants of the captain, Atkins and Goodchild, must have been gorgeously arrayed in their suits of blue and gold at 5 : I2s. each, "superfine beavers " at a guinea, silk hose 1 2s., gilt buckles i : i os., and so on. These charges are sufficient to show the extravagant expenditure which marked the festival. The authorities 1841 ETON 35 seem to have felt powerless in attempting to check the expense and the extortion of tradesmen. In enclosing to Thring's father Montem bills to the amount of 640 : 1 2 : 1 1, the headmaster, Dr. Hawtrey, says : The whole of the bills are now paid. There remains only the sums usually given to the runners and salt-bearers and the ^50 which made the bargain between your son and Gouge. 1 These sums being fixed payments, and not entering into the bills over which any control can be exercised, I have left to you and him to settle. It is provoking to find more could not have been done to lessen the expenses ; but I believe it to have been impossible. Mr. Botham's bill seems to me exorbitant, but he has tickets to produce, and I do not see, therefore, how it can be disputed. Still after all the extortion of the day, and the large indispens- able expenses, there still remains a sum which will be a valuable addition to the next three or four years' college life. With every good wish to your son, and a most sincere testimony to his successful exertions and irreproachable character, I am, etc. On Montem evening the headmaster reports that after a counting which occupied two hours, the bags of the salt-bearers had been found to contain In cheques . . . . ;io6 3 o In notes . . . . . 265 o o In sovereigns and guineas . . 396 i o In half-sovereigns . . . 165 10 o In crowns and half-crowns . . 132 15 o In shillings . . . . . 135 17 o In sixpences . . . . 43 10 o In fourpences . . . . 4160 ^1249 I2 o 1 This fixed payment is explained as follows : Since the captaincy was undecided between the first and second boys in college until twenty days before Montem day, it was the custom for these lads to mutually agree that whichever was captain should pay the other 36 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1832- A sum of 1 9 : 15 : 6 received later raised the whole collection to 1269 17:6. At the three previous Montems in 1832, 1835, and 1838, it had been respectively 873 : O : o, ;ioo6 : 14 : o, and nS6 : 13 : o. Large as the sum was in 1841, it appears to have been below the anticipations formed from the multitude of visitors present. Dr. Hawtrey writes, in announcing it : "I am sorry to say that the sum collected appears to fall surprisingly short of the amount which was imagined. . . . However mortifying this result may be after such an account as we had heard, still the collection must be considered a good one." Mrs. Thring, who had driven up with her husband and a large family party from Somerset to attend the festival of which her son was the chief figure, writes the following account of the day's proceedings to a relative : My DEAR MADAM The Morning Post which I sent you on Saturday as soon as I returned would give you a much better account than I can possibly do of the grand features of the Montem, still we think that you would like to hear our pro- ceedings, which Gale desired me to give you. The business of the day begins very early, for before I was dressed at half- past seven, I was called to look at one of the salt -bearers come to the lodging for his " salt," as the money is termed a very handsome youth (the captain of the oppidans, a son of Mr. Piggott of Brockley Combe), dressed in a most splendid Spanish dress with hat and feathers. The captain of the collegers, the hero of the day, Edward, wears only a captain's uniform with a star on his breast to distinguish him, and he really did not look absurd, though so little. We went at nine o'clock to breakfast with Mr. Goodford, one of the masters, who, as such, has the power of admitting his party to the school yard, which cannot otherwise be obtained without a ticket from the headmaster. We then were taken to the College Hall, and soon after entered about 200 of the youths, 1841 ETON 37 all dressed either in fancy costumes or in scarlet, to breakfast, whilst a military band played and the whole area was filled with genteel people. Through Mr. Henry Woodhouse's introduction, we next got admission into the Provost's Lodge, and were in the first row of a line in a room through which the Queen and her suite passed, so that we saw her fully and closely. The Prince Albert is a gentlemanly, good-looking man, with a pleasing, but rather melancholy expression. After the Queen had passed we returned into the school yard, and had a front view of her from the open window bowing to the boys, who paraded before her, cheering her most vociferously to the extent of their power. This done the procession of Etonians moved in rank and file to the mound at Salt Hill, and we got into our carriage and went up the road. The Queen passed us in her carnage quite close, and we arrived in time to witness the waving of the flag at the top of the mound by the boy ensign, and the renewed cheering the Queen. All the youths then went to the dinner given by the captain to the whole school, and as many private friends as he chooses to invite, and during their banquet the company adjourned to the gardens of the inn, where the band continued to play, and where you have again a well-dressed mob. We then returned to our lodgings, where we had ready for ourselves and friends abundance of cold chicken pie, etc, and from that time till eleven at night we had a constant succession either of visitors or boys to enjoy it. We took a turn, however, in the evening into the beautiful playing fields of the college, which are in themselves worth seeing, independently of the multitude of well-dressed ladies and beautiful fancy dresses of the boys. In the evening we saw these last to perfection, as between twenty and thirty came into our lodgings to supper at different times. The day was delightful for the purpose, and the collection the best ever made upwards of ^1250; the expenses are enormous, I believe ^800. But still Edward is a lucky fellow, as he is now gone off to King's College, Cambridge, as a scholar, and goes on regularly to be fellow in course of time. It was a source of great gratification to us to find that he had not only secured the approbation of those in authority, but was likewise extremely popular with the juniors. We have, indeed, abundant cause for thankfulness, and are, 38 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1832- I hope, truly grateful for the blessings conferred upon us. ... We all separated next day Theresa, Gale, and Theodore for town Miss Hood, daughter of Sir Alexander Hood, whom we had taken with us, returned with me to Alford Miss Thring to Clifton Henry and Edward to Cambridge. . . . Henry was very anxious that we should have gone to the installation at Cambridge, but that is now postponed in con- sequence of the intended dissolution of Parliament, which will find employment enough for many of the visitors. . . . I enclose one of the copies of the Montem Ode, 1 written by a friend of Edward's, according to custom, in which he has 1 Any account of Montem would be incomplete which omitted mention of the doggerel verse here referred to as the Montem Ode. It was sup- posed to be the composition of a person (quite fictitious) styled the " Mon- tem Poet. " The ode was printed at the captain's expense, and distributed during the day, as a broad sheet ballad, by a man usually dressed in char- acter, to whom the sale was a somewhat valuable perquisite. Thring's Ode was written by a friend of his own class, his lieutenant for the day. A few lines will be sufficient to illustrate its character : Step out, strut well, before such great spectators ; Show off, smart lower boys, before your " maters," You cock your chins up pretty well, but still You'd all of you be better for a drill ; Though legs be cased in duck, and toes in boots, Our regiment is full of raw recruits ; Eyes right though sisters giggle, ' ' Don't you see John, How you kick up the dust?" though Gov'nors wink, Threatening to draft you to the Spanish legion Unless you make your mark. But, pray, don't think That I would such aspersions fling Upon our stately, portly Captain Thring, That stern Caucasian chief, who rears Behind six files of mountaineers His proud, majestic figure ; His well-bedizened retinue Almost, alas ! obstruct the view ; However well they be attired, Perhaps it were to be desired Their lord were rather bigger ; But yet his purse we hope we know Will beat in length his person, And ladies can't expect each beau To stalk as tall as Curzon : So drink his health and praise bis feasl, And, when the holiday has ceased, Say, one and all, with grateful heart, Thring has played well the captain's part. 1841 ETON 39 remarked pleasantly enough on Edward's littleness. Will you please return it, as it is the only one I have. Obviously Montem was a celebration which was likely to put a severe strain upon the character of a captain. One of Thring's old school and college friends writes : Edward Thring was the last but one of those who had the luck to be captains of Eton, or eldest of the foundation scholars, when the triennial festival called Montem was held. I have known three others ... all of whom suffered morally from being supplied with the inordinate credit given by innkeepers and shopkeepers to Montem captains, recipients of many hundreds of pounds collected as toll rather than free gift, and squandered on parasites or drink. He alone in my time escaped the evil effects of the absurd institution. He went through the summer school term as a schoolboy and the subsequent three years at Cambridge in perfect sobriety and purity. This did not strike me at the time ; it was a matter of course. . . . But afterwards when I learned why Dr. Hawtrey abolished Montem, I began to see the danger from which Thring's very strong character had preserved him. The magnificence and extravagance of Thring's Montem, and the increasing popularity of the festival, which, in Dr. Hawtrey's words, made Eton on Montem day little better than Greenwich Fair, practically sealed its fate. After an ineffectual effort in 1844 to mitigate its worst evils, the authorities of the college decreed its suppression. We have now followed Thring through his school- days. From the time when he went, at eight years of age, to Ilminster, to the period when, at nineteen, he left Eton as head of the collegers and captain of Montem, he had certainly tried the heights and depths of schoolboy life. His varied experience had left on his mind a profound impression, the results of which were to be developed in his subsequent career. CHAPTER III COLLEGE AND CURATE LIFE 1841-1853 MONTEM was celebrated, according to ancient custom, on Whit-Tuesday, which in 1841 fell upon June I2th. A week before, on June 5th, Thring had been formally enrolled as a scholar on the foundation of King's College, Cambridge, and he entered upon residence in October of the same year. Three years later, on June 5th, 1844, he became, in the regular course of succession, a fellow of King's. Altogether he was in residence at Cambridge as scholar and fellow for six years. Of the undergraduate portion of his college career there is little record, save what is furnished by the college lists and by occasional references in his Diary and letters of later years. His private classical tutor at Cambridge was George Kennedy. Under the system which prevailed at King's, Thring took his degree without university examination, and so could not be placed in any tripos. His tutor expressed the opinion that the place of first classic of his year at Cambridge would have lain between Thring and one other competitor. 1 1 In 1 844 be obtained one of the highest distinctions of the University, 1841-1853 COLLEGE AND CURATE LIFE 41 Writing in 1875 to an old pupil, Rev. A. H. Boucher, of his undergraduate life, he says : I think you were better off in your set than I was when I first came up. Nevertheless, on the whole, looking back at the time, I spent a very quiet, powerful three years at Cambridge, and can now think of it as one of the best periods of my life. In the turmoil of work afterwards the hours which had no other care but how to make the best of one's self in literary training come back with a very peaceful flavour. And again : I never enjoyed any time more in my life than the two Longs I read at Cambridge. There is something particularly fascinating, so I thought, in the quiet, uninterrupted reading and perfect mastery over one's time. Some of my strolls about midnight in King's, in the summer night just before going to bed after work, still live in my memory ; so also do some of my walks. He continued in residence three years after taking his degree and obtaining his fellowship. These years of Cambridge life he described, in one of his public addresses, as " now heavy with labour, now buoyant with hope, bringing great searchings of heart, and much balancing of right and wrong, much anxious weighing of the value of education and life, and their true use." A pregnant sentence, which he speaks of as a prayer, remains to tell us one main drift of his thought at this the Person Prize (for Greek iambics). He mentioned to a friend that for this prize he made sixteen distinct translations of the passage set (Second Part of King Henry IV. Act IV. Scene vi. 93-117) before deciding upon the final form his composition should take. His college prizes were Glynn Prize in 1842 (awarded for learning and regularity of conduct); Latin Declamation in 1842, 1843, and 1844 ; Classics and Divinity in the annual examination, 1842 and 1843; Cooke Prize, 1844 (awarded "to those scholars who have deserved well by application to their studies and general orderly behaviour "). 43 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1841- time of the dream and ideal of his own future which was forming in his mind : " Work till the end of my life, and life till the end of my work." This was the prayer, written out at Cambridge and preserved, into which the "searchings of heart," of which he speaks, became crystallised. Never, surely, was prayer in both its alternatives more amply fulfilled. A junior at Eton, who had followed him to college at an interval of some years, says of him at this time : When I came up to Cambridge he had nearly finished his course of reading. He had improved his scholarship by very determined hard work, the more creditable as his succession to a fellowship was a mere matter of course. . . . He was very enthusiastic over his classics, and had a high standard of morality and industry. I remember his telling me that an up- right, steady character was in itself a silent rebuke of vice. He was rather out of spirits when I first saw him at King's, as he had been working exceedingly hard without much encourage- ment or reward (King's men did not then go in for the tripos), but almost directly he was cheered by gaining the Porson prize, much valued by scholars. But what seemed to me to cheer him most of all was when he made up his mind to be a clergy- man. He was active and athletic, an extremely good " fives " player, full of energy in everything he undertook. I was rather afraid of him while I admired him. At Cambridge he was already beginning to be re- cognised outside of his immediate college circle as a man of exceptional ability and force of character. Writing to him in 1868, Alexander Macmillan says : It is very nearly a quarter of a century since I first knew you, and since my dear brother and I used to speculate on the line in which you were to become eminent, for you were among 1 853 COLLEGE AND CURATE LIFE 43 the first of Cambridge men whom his clear eye determined as fitted to do world work in one line or another. Within the college the reforming instincts which were afterwards to carry him so far had already led him to take an active part in a struggle of much importance which was then going on. Reference has been made to the anomaly which had long existed at Eton, whereby scholars were sent on from that school to college at King's, and to the enjoy- ment of valuable scholarships there, not by any special test of merit, but merely on the ground of seniority. The conditions under which King's College itself at that time carried on its work presented an anomaly even more extraordinary. By an agreement, dating from about the middle of the fifteenth century, between the university and the college, King's claimed for its scholars the privilege of exemption from the university examination for degrees. The only test submitted to by the men was one that satisfied their own college-tutors, who then presented them as a matter of right for the university degree. Hence the names of King's men never appeared in the class lists, and they were thus excluded entirely from the greatest object of university ambition at Cambridge, a high place among the wranglers of the year. Competition for a limited number of university scholarships or prizes was the only path to university distinction which offered itself, and for this naturally only a few of the ablest men would enter. The result was that the great majority of King's men took their degrees and passed on to the enjoyment of college fellowships without having undergone any university test. Thring recognised clearly the temptations to idleness and the limitation to ambition thus imposed upon 44 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1841- King's men. While yet a fellow of the college he threw himself with great heartiness into the agitation to do away with this system, and wrote two vigorous pamphlets upon the subject; the first in 1846, the second in 1848. New College, at Oxford, had lately abandoned a like privilege, and had sent its scholars into the schools in the ordinary way. Eton, too, had begun to reform its practice. " The College of Eton," he says, " has lately introduced a complete reform with regard to the succession to King's ; for whereas formerly the boys came up at random, the oldest, like cattle waiting to be fed, standing in the first rank now the trials which decide their order are no longer a dead letter, as some have found to their cost ; but the most meritorious in a constant stream come up to Cambridge, in some cases only to stagnate there." The action of New College he quotes as an example for imitation ; the change at Eton as a guarantee, from the better class of men sent up, that King's need not fear the test of the university examinations. The true value of ex- aminations is touched upon. " The College," he says, " has rejected that fair and open university trial, which, working on the sense ot honour in the good and the sense of shame in the bad, infuses vitality into the mass on which tutors and lecturers are to act. ... If the men are men of ability, they are (if left without ex- amination) pent up in an unnatural stagnation ; if the contrary, they hold their station by an equally unnatural tenure." He dwells upon the duty of taking away all temptations to idleness in great foundations like King's which he describes as " charities without the sense of dependence ; men hold them as their own, yet as having a service to render for them ; that which they have received they are to pass on undiminished, if not 1853 COLLEGE AND CURATE LIFE 45 increased ; the dead have hired them for a wage to serve the living." An objection put forward by the opponents of any change was that as Eton and King's were strongholds of classical learning, their men would be at a disadvantage in an examination which required a certain amount of mathematical knowledge. On this point Thring writes to his mother in 1849 : I had a letter from King's yesterday, saying that they are going to make a great effort to separate the Classical and Mathematical Tripos, so that a person will not have to go in for mathematical honours before he can try for classical. I don't know when it will come on, but I shall go up and vote for it from any place and at any time. King's will be regu- larly stumped if the measure passes, their last excuse for idle- ness entirely cut away from them, to the great delight of many of us. The arguments pressed by Thring and others were so completely successful, that when the question finally came up for decision in 1851, the vote of the Provost and fellows of King's was unanimous for relinquishing the anomalous privilege of their society. To the great and admitted benefit of their college, King's men have since that time submitted to the usual university tests. Thring was ordained deacon in 1846, and priest in 1847. Soon after the first of these dates he accepted a curacy at St. James's Church, in the city of Gloucester. His vicar, Mr. Hedley, who died in 1855 at a com- paratively early age, was a man of exceptional power and character. Thring often said that no other man had ever exercised so much influence over his thought. It was during this period at Gloucester that the intense religious convictions, the vivid conception of personal 46 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1841- relations to God, and the consecration of all his powers to God's service, which afterwards became the ruling motives of his life, seem to have become definitely formed and fixed. Writing to Mr. Medley's daughter in 1871, after he had been eighteen years at Upping- ham, he says : I can assure you no epoch of my life has made half the impression on me that my Gloucester stay and your dear father did. He of course was my great star, though I loved your mother too, but he was the most single-minded Christian I ever met, and wise and intellectual withal. He stamped himself deep on me ; much of my life here is indebted to him, how much I cannot tell. Night and day he is present in my prayers. I often think of him still, and love to look on this work as part his. You know partly what a great work I have been blessed to do here. Even outwardly it is very great, but in spirit I trust better still a deep, true, unseen laying of foundations of better education. Two letters from Mr. Hedley to Thring one on his appointment to Uppingham, the other on his marriage, remain to throw light upon the relations between the two men, upon the nature of that influence over his life to which Thring so often alluded. They are the letters of a man who lived only for the things of the spirit ; who valued success and happiness for his friend only as they enlarged the sphere and willingness for Christian service ; who welcomed failure and suffering for himself and others, so that they drew the heart nearer to God. They explain and fully justify the reverent affection which Thring entertained for the writer. Of Thring's directly religious work at Gloucester little can now be gleaned. It is interesting, however, to note that in later life at Uppingham he looked upon a clergyman's work in a parish as an excellent prepara- 1853 COLLEGE AND CURATE LIFE 47 tion for the duties of a schoolmaster. In appointing masters he frequently took this into consideration, giving the preference to men who had parish experience, or advising young men from the universities to get it before entering upon teaching duties. It gave, he thought, knowledge of the human heart and experience in dealing with various dispositions. " It keeps the heart open, and so makes the head sound," he writes to an old boy who was still at Cambridge. And again, to his Cambridge friend, Luard, he says : I am rejoiced to hear of your approaching ordination. Be sure my heartfelt prayers shall go up for you both now and then. I think you will find yourself much happier if you get in a good parish, and many a theoretical difficulty gets quite disposed of in good work by God's blessing, as one learns to see how in all times these (difficulties) have been much the same, and how little the practical object of evangelis- ing a lost world has to do with the speculations which in the study appear all-engrossing. At least so it was to me, endeavouring to fix my heart steadfastly without personal feeling on what would promote or injure my work or use- fulness. But it was here at Gloucester, in the National Schools, that he began to teach, and in later life he always looked back upon this period as the very pivot upon which turned all his later educational work and thought. Speaking of his career as a teacher in his inaugural address to the Education Society, of which he was chosen President in 1886, he said: But the curate life was the foundation of it all in practice. Never shall I forget it, with its teaching work, almost daily, in National Schools. Everything I most value of teaching thought, and teaching practice, and teaching experience, came from that. Never shall I forget those schools in the suburbs 48 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1841- of Gloucester, and their little class-room, with its solemn problem, no more difficult one in the world : how on earth the Cambridge honour man, with his success and his brain- world, was to get at the minds of those little labourers' sons, with their unfurnished heads, and no time to give. They had to be got at, or I had failed. They tried all my patience, called every power into play, and visited me with much searchings of heart if they did not do well. Never shall I cease to be grateful to those impractic- able, other-world boys, and that world of theirs which had to be; got into. . . . There I learnt the great secret of St. Augustine's golden key, which, though it be of gold, is useless unless it fits the wards of the lock. And I found the wards I had to fit, the wards of my lock which had to be opened, the minds of those little street boys, very queer and tortuous affairs ; and I had to set about cutting and chipping myself in every way to try and make myself into the wooden key, which should have the one merit of a key, however common it might look, the merit of fitting the lock, and unlocking the minds, and opening the shut chambers of the heart Oh ! how hard it was to get into shape, their shape, and fit the twists and corners of blocked and ignorant minds. But it was glorious work. There was wonderful freshness in those schools, a most exhilarating sense of life touching life, of freedom and reality, after the heaps of knowledge, which, like sheaves of corn on a threatening day, had had to be loaded up and carted in against time at school and college. That the lowest teaching work requires the highest teaching skill is a truth which Thring was never tired of affirming. It was one he had learned from experience. He writes in 1883 to a teacher chiefly interested in elementary schools : I learnt my teaching in the National Schools in the parish of St. James, in the suburbs of Gloucester, where I was curate and used to take a class. In fact, the whole of my English Grammar up to moods is simply a verbatim sketch of 1853 COLLEGE AND CURATE LIFE 49 the lessons given in that class, in which I questioned all the ordinary grammar in and out of the little boys without their looking at a book, as any competent teacher can do in the same way. You may guess from this how thoroughly I agree with you in your aims. It was not only in teaching the children of the National Schools that Thring's educational experience was being enlarged during the period of his life as a resident fellow at college and as a curate. His College appointed him one of the " posers " at Eton for four successive years 1850, 1851, 1852, and 1853. The University sent him as an examiner to Rugby. At Cambridge, in 1850, he was examiner for the classical tripos. After leaving Gloucester he read with private pupils for two years. Thus he was probing English teaching in various directions, and gaining an experience of schools and teaching methods which extended all the way from the top to the bottom of the educational scale. He had thrown himself into the work of his curacy at Gloucester with the same vehemence of effort which characterised his later life. The strain proved too great, and a breakdown in his general health, the influence of which extended far into his school life, combined with serious throat weakness, made it neces- sary to take a year or more of entire rest. This enforced cessation of parish duties was at the time a bitter disappointment and trial. The work for which he had prayed was denied him. Unconsciously to himself the preparation for it was still going on. I have before me a note descriptive of his life at Great Marlow, whither, after a short stay at Alford, he went to make a temporary home after leaving Gloucester. It is written by one who then met him for the first E 50 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1841- time, became deeply interested in his character and career, and ever after remained a fast friend. The picture given of his energetic methods of taking relaxa- tion is eminently characteristic. He devoted himself to his garden, made himself especially an expert at budding roses, and was full of eagerness to give instruc- tion in this art to any one who was inclined to learn. " From his garden the cultivation of roses spread over the neighbourhood, and the effect on cottage gardens was very noticeable." The love of dogs and other animals he derived from his youth at Alford, and the taste clung to him through- out life. " At Great Marlow his educational powers were exercised upon his dogs with surprising effect, and his patient training resulted in feats of intelligent obedience which interested and delighted his friends." But what struck them most was the energy with which he devoted himself to the happiness of those around him. He would walk, ride, row, or do any- thing which contributed to their enjoyment ; he made their interests his own ; nothing seemed small to him. " Much self-control and training must have gone before to make him what he was in those early days," says this friend. " Manliness and courage are perhaps the two most prominent qualities with which one's mind recalls him, with unselfishness and steadfastness in his friendships. Probably it never occurred to anyone who knew him to doubt him, or to think that he could change." When a sympathetic listener was found, he talked with such entire unreserve and with such intensity of earnestness of his educational hopes and plans, that many who knew him then were quite prepared for what he afterwards accomplished in his chosen career. At Great Marlow he spent in all two years, living i853 COLLEGE AND CURATE LIFE 51 in what he describes as " a small pretty house, called Seymour Court." Some private reading with pupils was taken as his health began to improve, and on most Sundays he helped his friend, Mr. Powell, vicar of the neighbouring parish of Bisham, in preaching or in the other services of his Church. In 1851 he removed to Cookham Dene, a short distance away, in order to take the curacy of the small district of Stubbings, lately cut off from Bisham and Cookham Dene. Here he remained two years longer. The Vicar of Bisham remembers that at Stubbings he took the same great interest in the parish schools that he did at Gloucester. It was during this period of partial disablement that he wrote his first work on English Grammar. Meanwhile, both during his college career and later, he had been supplementing his work and studies by the education of foreign travel, on which he seems to have spent a portion of the money which he received as captain of Montem. In letters written to his mother vivid sketches remain of tours taken with his brothers or friends : one through Brittany and up the Loire ; another up the Rhine to Switzerland, and through the more important parts of Germany ; a third to Italy, where he spent several months in 1852. On this last occasion he had started from England with the inten- tion of going from Italy to the Holy Land. But during the months that he spent at Rome he met the lady who was to be his future wife, became engaged, and under this new impulse, with characteristic impetu- osity, changed all his plans, and returning to England, bent his thought entirely on getting work in the sphere to which his mind had been so long directed. His friends wished him to take a mastership at Eton. The proposal for his appointment seems to have been 52 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1841- made in his absence, and it was opposed by some of those high in authority at his old school, who took exception to his " manner." Of this Eton criticism Thring writes from Rome to his friend Luard at Cambridge : " I wish most sincerely that my manner was much softer always, still I feel sure it has been positive rather than aggressive." Whether this dis- tinction is correct or not, one scarcely wonders that an educational iconoclast, who had very strong convictions on school reform, and who never hesitated to express them, should have seemed a doubtful acquisition to many of the Eton men of that day. It is not clear that Thring himself ever seriously entertained the idea of going to Eton. When the offer was at length made to him it was declined, much to the disappointment of his father. Thring was manifestly anxious for an independent field of action. Before going abroad in 1852 he had applied for the principalship of the Diocesan Training College for masters in the diocese of Oxford. On his return he thought for a time of a preparatory school for small boys. He applied for the mastership of the school at Durham, then vacant. To Durham, in his new eagerness for employment, he went in person to press his application. He writes thence to Mr. Luard : I am here seeing canons, and trying for the school. I think I have a reasonable chance for it. My visits to the canons are by no means unsatisfactory, as if they are nothing else they are very pleasant people to talk to, and I can put my case quietly, and remove any little obstacles. His name was one of two reserved from the list of applicants for the second day's scrutiny. On so slight 1853 COLLEGE AND CURATE LIFE 53 a thread hung for that day the fortunes of the little Midland school which he was to lift to eminence. The decision of the Durham Governors was in favour of Mr. Holden, then headmaster of Uppingham, who received the appointment. Thring at once applied for the post thus vacated, and after a short period of anxious wait- ing, was notified of his election. He announces his appointment in a hurried letter to Cambridge on ist September 1853, and nine days later he entered upon his work. Before the end of the year, on 2Oth December, he was married to C. Marie Louise Koch, daughter of Karl Johann Koch, Counsellor, of His Prussian Majesty's Customs, Bonn on the Rhine. Thring aimed at creating a home life as well as a school life for his boys, and he was wont to attribute much of the character and success of Uppingham School to the ladies who shared the work of the masters. In his own household the loving sympathy and devotion brought into his life by his marriage, and the help of a powerful mind trained with German thoroughness to high educational ideals, were everything to him through the years of trial which he had to face. Many years afterwards he writes to an intimate friend, on his marriage : " I can only say I have found my marriage the most perfect earthly bless- ing, beyond my lover's hopes even, and worth all. I trust you will too. The ' help meet for him.' There is the spell of happiness." His marriage involved the resignation of his fellow- ship at King's. He writes to the Provost on ipth December : As to-morrow morning, before this letter is posted, I hope to be married, I beg to send in my resignation as fellow of King's College. On a review of the past, as I feel the 54 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1841-1853 strongest affection for the royal places of my education, so I trust, as far as my powers went, they will acquit me of having failed them wilfully. A sense of duty as well as affection kept up his interest in King's. Thirty years after the date of his resignation, in 1883, this note occurs in his Diary: Asked to preach at King's on the 27th. I do not like going to preach, but I have no choice. I have eaten King Henry's bread, and my services must be given whenever re- quired, if it can be done. CHAPTER IV THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM I8S3-I859 THRING entered upon his headmastership of Upping- ham school on loth September 1853, when he was in the thirty-second year of his age. A few days before, a friend had met him as he was returning from taking his first look at the place. To some casual question about his journey his reply was, " I think I have found my life-work to-day." That reply furnishes a keynote to his after career, and the explanation of his feeling in taking the appointment. Not as a stepping-stone to something else, but as a sole purpose in life, did he enter upon the work of a schoolmaster. Not as a post to be held till something better offered, but as a field for a life-long educational experiment, already clearly outlined in his mind, did he go to Uppingham. Thenceforward till the close of his life, thirty-four years later, that place was to be the centre of all his thought and effort There he was to find the amplest realisation of the prayer into which at college he had concentrated his dream of life. The field of work which he aimed at creating for himself a great public school is the best that Eng- 56 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1853- land offers for effective educational experiment and striking educational result A few such schools have held a conspicuous place in English history, and have had immense influence on English life. It is not too much to say that, under the impulse given to it by a powerful headmaster, a great public school may, even in a generation, have a very perceptible influence in moulding the national character. Through it is con- stantly passing a stream of several hundreds of boys, who come from the better homes of the country, and go on to the universities and to professional life to prominent positions at the Bar, in the Army, the Church, the Civil Service, the teaching profession, the higher organisations of commerce and industry. To influence public school life is therefore to modify the highest social and intellectual forces of the country. Such schools are expensive, and therefore limited in number ; the reaction of one upon another is great, even when least admitted ; and so to make a new and great public school on new principles could not fail to have a far- reaching effect. It is admitted that a school of this class, as it exists in England, offers the sphere in teach- ing life where individuality of character and vigour of policy in the teacher have the best opportunity of making themselves decisively felt. In the vast organised systems of popular education with which we are familiar in modern times, the individual teacher finds his efforts hedged in on all sides by official prescription of work and method. For his personal initiative little room is left It is the just pride of the great English public schools that in them a headmaster is usually left com- paratively free, save where tradition becomes his master, to do his work in his own way. It need scarcely be said that this fact places a premium on strong men as 1859 THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM 57 headmasters, and also makes the positions tolerable to men of force and originality. One circumstance especially gives a unique interest to the building of Uppingham. It was the realisation of a preconceived and carefully thought-out plan based on definite educational principles. I once asked Thring whether the structural and other ideas of the place had grown upon him as he advanced in his work. " No," he said emphatically, " among my papers I can show you the sketch, almost in detail, of everything I pro- posed to do, and which you now see here, just as I made it in the very first years of my mastership." The ideas which he had gleaned from his experience as a small boy at Ilminster, as oppidan and colleger at Eton, and as a student and fellow at Cambridge ; from his later work as a poser at Eton, as examiner at Rugby and Cambridge, or from his training in the National Schools at Gloucester, had all, in the years before he went to Uppingham, been wrought out into definite form, and he began his work there with a fixed concep- tion of what was necessary to be done of the ideal school which he intended to create. Let us glance for a moment at the surroundings of the place where his life-work was to be done, and the conditions under which it was begun. Uppingham is a Midland market town, the centre of an agricultural district in Rutland, the smallest of Eng- lish counties. The name indicates its elevated situation 500 feet above the level of the sea a circumstance to which it owes a bracing, healthful air. To the south the high ground sinks away with undulations to the valley of the sluggish Welland, which winds like a thread through its broad meadows in summer, or covers them with wide lakes of quiet water when the spring or 58 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1853- autumn floods are out. In other directions, highways, pleasant to ramble along, lead through the ordinary Midland scenery, beautiful, but somewhat monotonous. Beyond the school population, which comes with the opening terms, and for the most part flits masters with their families as well as boys in holiday time, the inhabitants do not number more than 2000. A sleepy little place it is when the school is away. Almost the only ripple in the local life is on market days, when the small square fills up with fat sheep and cattle, and the inns with sturdy farmers, butchers, or dealers. Rail- ways approach on all sides, but did not, in Thring's time, reach it. The nearest stations Manton, Gretton, and Seaton were all four or five miles away, an isolation inconvenient for the visitor in a hurry, but not without distinct advantage in the government of a large school. The straggling principal street is picturesque in its way. The church boasts the pulpit from which Jeremy Taylor preached when he was the incumbent of the parish. Beyond this and apart from the school there is little of ancient historical tradition to dignify the little town, or give to boys' imaginations the impulse which schools like Eton or Winchester may well draw from their surroundings. Take away from Uppingham as it is to-day the noble chapel and great schoolroom ; the ivy -covered schoolhouses which lie along the High Street ; the other handsome structures which, embowered in shrubbery and surrounded by gardens, are situated at intervals along the Rockingham and Stockerton roads ; the baths, the sunny playing fields, the gymnasium, the cottage hospital fronting on Fairfield ; the waterworks, which speak so eloquently to the initiated of sanitation 1859 THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM 59 and well-flushed sewers, of a terrible danger and a great deliverance ; and we are able to realise what the little Midland town looked like when Thring first came to it in 1853, to enter almost single-handed upon his educa- tional work. A picturesque but antiquated master's house, and an Elizabethan schoolroom, neither pictur- esque nor adapted to school needs, made up the exist- ing school machinery. A part of this house, now used as a library, and the old schoolroom, transformed into a studio, still remain to remind Uppingham of its day of I small things. A single assistant on the foundation, an under-master, and an "inefficient writing instructor," constituted his working staff. In some letter or paper he mentions that on first visiting Uppingham he " saw possibilities in the place." May we not think that the " possibilities " which he saw lay not so much in the place as in something reflected upon it from within the man himself? And yet Uppingham was an ancient school. No one delighted more than Thring in dwelling upon the fact that there he had found a point from which to start ; that the school was no mere trade venture, but that he had built upon foundations long since laid by a good man as a deed of large-minded charity and love. Through all his after work this thought runs like a golden thread of inspiration. As far back as 1584 Robert Johnson, Archdeacon of Leicester, had, " by God's grace," to use the first words of the old statutes, founded at Uppingham a " faire, free grammar school." To it was attached a hospital for the maintenance of a number of poor men and women. A like school and hospital were at the same time founded at the neighbouring town of Oakham, to be controlled by the same Trust or governing body. The 60 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1853- founder mentions in the statutes that he has " in the said towns purchased certain lands, and also built certain houses for the habitations of my schoolmasters and wardens, ushers and sub -wardens, and poor men and women, and have also purchased divers heredita- ments, revenues, and tenements, of the late Queen Elizabeth of famous memory, for the maintenance of my said schoolmasters, ushers, poor men, and certain poor scholars." To control the Trust thus constituted the archdeacon directed that there should be a Board of governors, of which his " right heir male " was to be hereditary " patron." l He appointed to be members of the Board the Bishops of London and Peterborough, the Deans of Westminster and Peterborough, the Archdeacon of Northampton, and the Masters of Trinity and St. John's Colleges, Cambridge, with their successors in office from time to time. It does not appear, however, that these were expected to take any active share in the government of the Trust, as provision is made for their voting by written proxies only in the case of the election of headmaster. The direct control was left almost entirely with the local governors, who were chosen, to complete the full number of twenty-four, under the following regulation of the statutes : "When a place of governorship which is not successive falleth void, the governors then living shall choose either a knight, esquire, or gentleman, well known and reputed of by them who dwell in the diocese of Peterborough, or some minister whom they 1 This provision of the founder's statutes was not interfered with when the new scheme came into operation under the direction of the Charity Com- missioners in 1875, an( * A. C. Johnson, Esq., the then patron, continued to fill the place. At the tercentenary celebration in 1884, the hereditary patron was present and took the chair. 1859 THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM 61 know to be a learned or pious man, a Master of Arts at least, and a parson or vicar within the diocese of Peter- borough, in Rutland, or of my schoolmasters of Oakham and Uppingham." It will be observed that, with the exception of the ex-officio members, the governors were an entirely self-elected body. The archdeacon appears to have himself preferred clergymen as governors, since his original nomina- tions were all the incumbents of neighbouring parishes, together with his two schoolmasters (probably also clergy- men) and two of his own grandchildren, " Isaac Johnson, Esq., and Samuel Johnson, Gentleman." The two latter were apparently the only laymen upon the Board. In later times the list of governors was largely made up from the country gentlemen and noblemen of the diocese. For 270 years the school thus founded and governed had kept on the even tenor of its way as a small county grammar school. Among its pupils were a few men who rose to prominence. The endowment, which produced, when Thring took the school in 1853, about 1000 per annum, furnished a small stipend (.150) to the headmaster; another (130) to his principal assistant, and kept the schoolroom in repair, but it was chiefly devoted to the payment of scholars' exhibitions to the universities, and in this way, no doubt, the charity of the founder did much good in assisting struggling students to a university career. A portion of the fund was still given to the almsmen provided for under the Trust. One more fact in connection with the composition of the Trust must be recalled in order to understand the difficulty of Thring's position. Archdeacon Johnson had provided for the joint government by the same Board of his two schools at Oakham and Uppingham. 62 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1853 These places are only six miles apart. The schools were intended to cover the same range of work, each taking boys of all ages and preparing them, if required, for the universities. Under such circumstances they naturally came into rivalry. In the centuries during which the Trust had been in operation the very moderate fortunes of the two schools had alternately fluctuated. It had become proverbial in the county that when one was up the other was down. With a Board drawn about equally from the neighbourhood of the two localities, nothing was more natural than that the squires and clergymen of each should watch jealously that no special preference was given to the other. Nor was this all. A purely agricultural community, dominated by a few large landowners country squires and conservative noblemen scarcely furnishes a soil in which we expect new and progressive ideas to rapidly and easily take root. Of the country clergy on the Board, with their keener interest in things intellectual, something more in the way of hearty support might have been expected. None of these, however, seems in earlier days to have had much weight in the counsels of the Trust, save one, who was Rector of Uppingham and Chancellor of the diocese of Peterborough. There is reason to think that the Chancellor, who was a man of intellect, was also of an ambition which led him to look with distinct antagonism on the growth beside him of a great school power which threatened to overshadow his own parochial influence. It was a strange chance which brought it about that an enthusiast like Thring, burning with a zeal which had been gathering strength for years, his imagination filled with a large plan for the bettering i859 THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM 63 of education, his iron will bent on its accomplishment ready to risk credit, health, life itself to gain his ends should have to enter upon his work under a governing body of this kind, which, far from entering with sympathy into his views, looked for years with suspicion and distrust upon every forward step, and even offered passive, if not active, resistance to the working out of his ideas. The evidence that this was for a long time the attitude of a majority of the members seems complete. Against the inertia of this body Thring's passionate earnestness and restless energy never ceased to chafe. While he felt that he was staking his life and fortunes for a great and holy cause, they thought and not seldom said that he was gambling with the money that he and others had invested in the school. Again, had he possessed a considerable fortune to expend upon his experiment, or had he had at his disposal large sums of money, such as have been given for the foundation of many modern schools, the attempt to which he from the first inwardly pledged himself would seem less audacious than it now appears to us. But all these conditions were wanting. He was a younger son, and could only look forward to deriving from the family estate the small portion of a younger son, 1 1 Thring always held, however, that the benefits derived from the law of primogeniture outweighed its disadvantages. " Much of the best work of England," he once said to me, " has been done by the younger sons of good families because they were younger sons. To us (speaking of his own family) it proved an almost unmixed good. After our school and college life we younger brothers were thrown out upon the world to win our own way. Education and instinct alike pledged us to use every effort to maintain the credit of the family and the old home. That home, meanwhile, was being kept together as a centre of the family life, and to it we could all return from time to time. In influences such as this lies one of the secrets of England's achievements." 64 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1853- upon which, meanwhile, as long as his father lived, he had no claim. His family, indeed, had little sym- pathy with his ideas, and scant faith in the enterprise upon which he was entering. It was under these circumstances that Thring, practically single-handed, undertook and carried out the work of establishing a great public school. In doing so he had to enter the lists against the old and rich foundations, like Eton and Winchester, Harrow and Shrewsbury, with their centuries of tradition and long-established connection. At about the same time, also, more than one foundation was being started, backed by munificent gifts of money or powerful social influence. Only a few miles distant from Uppingham was Rugby, then at the height of its reputation, and with the memory of its greatest headmaster still fresh around it. Against such competition he could only match an intense conviction that in fundamental particulars public school life had nowhere yet in England been established on any system educationally true in prin- ciple, and so capable of general application by average workers under average conditions. It was to framing such a system and securing for it recognition that he consecrated his life. So far as ambition entered his thoughts it was to leave behind some "constructive memorial " of his conceptions of educational truth. "A school," he writes in 1859, "may enshrine the in- dividual in their hearts, but it ought to have a monument of him in his system. There are times when a man must build his ship as well as be able to command her. It may dazzle men more to watch a great man's success under adverse circumstances, but it benefits society more to have a good 1859 THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM 65 strong system set on foot which any average honest man can work." He wished to establish a school based on true principles. But in his mind these principles themselves rested upon and grew out of what can only be described as a passionate conviction that education was, in a special sense, a work for God. No one can gauge Edward Thring's work and character unless he under- stands the supreme influence of this belief on his life. From the time when he came to Uppingham a young and perhaps over-confident enthusiast, through years of work and weariness, of mingled success and dis- appointment, to the day thirty-four years later when, suddenly stricken, he turned away a dying man from the altar of his noble chapel with the words of the communion service upon his lips, this thought that he was doing a work for God, and under His immediate eye, never forsook him. In every crisis of an anxious life it was the central and sustaining thought which gave new courage. It was marked by the fixed habit of always devoting a moment to private prayer before leaving his study to go to his first morning class. It shone out in the morning Scripture lessons to his sixth form, recalled by many a pupil as memorable in the awakening they gave to higher views of Christian life. It appears on every page of the Diary, written almost daily for well-nigh thirty years of his school career. Here every note of true work accomplished, every step in school progress has, in Greek, or Latin, or English, its brief ascription of praise to God, as to every beginning of work he gave its dedication of prayer. Not only did the thought run through his school sermons, as might have been expected, but it also gave a solemn earnestness to his ordinary talk on school questions. F 66 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1853- This feeling, indeed, that in training young lives he was doing a special and direct work for God dominated his own life and all his views of school life. It gave him his starting-point for practical work. " Thring was the most Christian man of this gen- eration," was a remark made to me in the House of Commons soon after his death by a well-known public man. One was curious to know the genesis of a thought that seemed to savour of exaggeration. " Be- cause," he went on to explain, " he was the first man in England to assert openly that in the economy of God's world a dull boy had as much right to have his power, such as it is, fully trained as a boy of talent, and that no school did honest work which did not recognise this truth as the basis of its working arrange- ments." This was in effect the essential element in his school beliefs. It is the best starting-point for any discussion of the ends he had in view. Two extracts will serve to illustrate his position in theory and practice. The first is from a paper written at an early stage of his school career : Englishmen say they are fond of facts. . . . Here is a fact of the greatest importance: Englishmen of the upper classes send away their children from home to be educated by strangers. No theory which does not distinctly recognise this fact to begin with is of any value in England. No practice which does not thoroughly and fairly meet this fact ought to find acceptance from the practical English mind. Children leave home to go to school. In theory they are sent to a place which is better than home, to be under men who train better than fathers and mothers. This is a large demand. ... A place better than home ; there is much in this men better than father and mother as trainers; there is much in this. Of course one obvious " better " is at once seen. The children require lessons and skilled teaching, and 1859 THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM 67 few homes can give this. But whole nations Germany, for instance bring skilled teaching within reach of all homes. The English school in all instances started in early days as a local school, and has been pushed out of this by the judg- ment of the English people. . . . This teaching want, there- fore, clearly can have little to do with the present fact. England has not chosen to have its education carried on at home, but deliberately prefers, when it can be had, a boarding- school. Accordingly the mere teaching . . . does not satisfy the better-than-home claim. For the teaching might be had and the home kept . . . The difference between merely teaching, and teaching and training, is simply immeasurable. The introduction of the training element at once makes a different world. This different world, if it is truly adapted to its purpose, demands, indeed, to begin with, everything that the other does, with the addition of everything necessary to provide for the whole life of every boy in and out of doors on the best training principles. It will simplify every school question to get rid at once of the idea that the actual teaching and knowledge part of the matter is the main thing from the English point of view. . . . The decision has been made and is a fact. The wealthy English neither bring teaching to their houses which they might do, nor go into the towns for it which they might do, nor found schools on this plan which they might do. ... As a fact beyond dispute, Englishmen of the upper classes send their children from home, and the reason why they are sent from home is not the teaching. . . . This at once brings us to the necessary conditions of a board- ing-school as a place of training. It must be better than home. But every boy comes from a home, and a thousand families do not want, if they understand their wants, 10 per cent of their 1000 boys to be turned out brilliant knowledge caskets and prize-winners, while 90 per cent take their chance. The class list does not satisfy the training demand for each boy at all ... Every boy who leaves home ought to go to a better than home place. . . . It is an absolute necessity in training, a self-evident truth, that every boy, whatever his abilities may be, should be intelligently cared for and feel that he is so cared for, 68 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1853- Again, in a statement made to the trustees of the school in 1875, when his theories had been thoroughly worked out in practice, and had been crowned with success, he says : The two main facts on which the present school has been built up are very simple and easily stated. They are these two truths : Firstly, the necessity in a true school that every boy, be he clever or stupid, must have proper individual attention paid to him. If he has not, the boy who has not, so far as he is neglected, is not at school. Secondly, that proper machinery for work, proper tools of all sorts, are at least as necessary in making a boy take a given shape, as in making a deal box. Out of these two axioms the present school of Uppingham has grown by a necessary process of reasoning and practical business. Let it be said at once that these two truths, if accepted as axiomatic and fundamental, meant revolu- tion in all the well-known schools of Thring's time. When understood they are seen to fix the ideal towards which schools have since been slowly moving under the compulsion of public opinion without or reforming energy within, but which even now comparatively few have reached. They furnish, it may fairly be claimed, the ideal towards which further movement in structure and organisation should be directed. The facts with which his school experience had made him familiar will best illustrate the lines of his reforming work. The conditions which prevailed at Eton have already been referred to. The barrack life of the Long Chamber, with its seventy or eighty boys left practically without supervision or the possibility of comfortable life, was no doubt its worst feature in the matter of residence ; and the headmaster's classes of 200, which reformation had only reduced to 100, 1859 THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM 69 the worst in point of teaching. But the ordinary houses for oppidan residence had numbers so unwieldy, the class-rooms and tutor-rooms were so crowded, that due attention to each boy was a practical impossibility, and was scarcely attempted. If we turn from the extreme case of Eton to the school where reform was then believed to have done its utmost the facts are still such as to arrest attention. We are told that in the headmaster's house at Rugby there were between sixty and seventy boys. Of the class-rooms during about the same period we have the following account by the late Dr. C. H. Pearson in the Contemporary Review for August 1893: I remember three forms at Rugby that averaged sixty pupils to the master, and these forms came one above the other in the school course, and took the boys in the important years between twelve and fifteen. Naturally the masters, who were conscientious men, were grievously overworked, but the finances of the school did not allow of their numbers being supplemented. Thring believed that conditions such as these made truth in school training impossible, and that out of them inevitably grew what he regarded as perhaps the . /] greatest heresy against educational truth ever expressed, viz. that "the first, second, and third _duty of a school- master is to get rid of unpromising subjects." Not ' that he doubted the sincerity and the good intention of any master of a public school who took this view. But to leave in a system structural defects which com- pelled neglect, made individual care of all boys in the house and individual training in the schoolroom im- possible for even the ablest and most conscientious teachers, and then by dismissal to get rid of the failures 70 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1853- created by such impossible conditions, seemed to him a flagrant defiance of justice and common sense. Bad conditions might make the policy of dismissal a tem- porary necessity, but statesmanship in school life would aim primarily at changing the bad conditions to good. To the argument mentioned by Dr. Pearson, that able men can even now be adequately paid at the great schools only when class-rooms are overcrowded and boarding-houses large, his answer was ready. Either parents should pay fees sufficient to provide for the training of each boy, or they should be frankly warned that the school could not undertake to give it. Truth, he said, cannot be taught to boys where truth is not the practice of the school. But he himself firmly believed that schools could exist which make justice and a fair chance for each boy the very corner stone of their system. To prove this in practice was the task to which he addressed himself. After the ordinary system of country grammar schools of its class, when Thring came to Uppingham, the headmaster alone was allowed to take boarders. One common and obvious method by which an able and energetic man could hope to draw large pecuniary advantage from a position of the kind, was to retain this boarding monopoly, enlarge his house as the numbers of pupils increased under vigorous administra- tion, and employ unmarried and more or less temporary masters, who can always be obtained at low salaries, to share the teaching work. Very large incomes have been made and are now being made by headmasters out of schools managed in this way. But it was repugnant to every educational principle that Thring had in his mind. He had conceived a system which i859 THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM 71 he believed to be the only one on which perfectly true and honest public school education could be carried on, and he was bent on creating a great school which should serve as a permanent illustration of certain clearly- defined principles. The main features of this system can be easily stated. In the first place, there was to be no barrack life, with its barrack discipline and the lack of individual care which were the necessary result of excessive numbers congregated in a single house. Much observa- tion and thought upon the point had led him to con- clude that about thirty boys were all that could be adequately dealt with in one house. This original opinion was ratified by many years of practical experi- ence, and to the end of his life he saw no reason to change this maximum. With thirty boys, a master and his wife were not over-matched by numbers, could make their houses home-like, and could know intimately and therefore influence the individual boy. The care of the individual was thus secured, but another im- mediate and important result of this limitation of the numbers permitted in a house is, that it secures for the school the largest possible proportion of masters who are not birds of passage, but having homes in the school are permanently interested in its success, and have the strongest inducements to make teaching a fixed pro- fession. This point he deemed fundamental. " The first great distinction," he said, in a statement made to the governors in 1859, "between a first-class and second- class school is this, whether there exists a permanent staff of masters or not ; this is the test of the class to which a school belongs ; without this, no other advantage can lift a school into first-class rank. 72 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1853- " These masters ought, also, to have incomes dependent on their own exertions, and not to be paid fixed salaries. " The number of boys apportioned to each master must not exceed his ability to teach that is, pay individual attention to, not simply deal with in classes. Every boy must feel himself known if either affection, truth, honour, or intellect, or intellectual progress are to have fair play." Next to the number of boys, therefore, who can be efficiently cared for and managed in a house comes the question of how many can be efficiently taught in a class. On this point his view was equally definite. He held that in a great public school, doing the classical and other work which prepares for the university, from twenty to twenty-five boys were all that could be taught in a single class if adequate attention were to be given to each. Nor should a class fall much below this limit, since competition and the interest of numbers are necessary to the greatest efficiency. It need scarcely be said that this judgment, new in practice and hardly ventured upon even in theory in his time, has now the endorse- ment of all teachers of weight. The settlement of the numbers which could be adequately taught in a class led him on by a natural process of reasoning to a further important conclusion. He held that the limit of numbers in a first-rate public school training boys for the university could be almost as rigidly determined, if sound principles were adhered to, as the limit of numbers in a house. Ten or eleven houses with thirty boys apiece constituted the maximum beyond which it was not wise to go ; any considerable drop beneath this number was also at the expense of efficiency. With this maximum of boys, a staff of house masters, strengthened by additional i859 THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM 73 masters for special subjects, could deal. A sufficient number of classes could be arranged to secure easy upward movement in the school for the number of years during which boys usually remain. No class was too large to interfere with individual training, while each was large enough to give the necessary stimulus of competition. The moment that a school rose above this number the classes became overweighted, and the work proportionally inefficient up to the point where the staff could be doubled, and a system of parallel classes established from the top to the bottom of the school. But against a school thus doubled or trebled in size the objections were fatal. The following state- ment, made in reply to a request for an opinion as to the comparative working efficiency of a school with 500 boys and one with I ooo, will show his point of view on this last question : It is certain that a school which undertakes to work each boy cannot be in a true state of efficiency if its numbers exceed 400 boys, and for the highest average excellence that is too much. The numbers that a headmaster can know personally form no slight item of calculation in a question of efficiency. As long as the headmaster knows every boy he is head- master ; the moment he does not, the man who does is so far headmaster. The working of this is not unimportant If a headmaster does not know each boy, and is unable to give an opinion on each boy, his assistant master B comes before him with a complaint of a boy C, whom he does not know. The headmaster has no choice ; he must take B's opinion as final, and act on it. In other words, the headmaster sinks into the position of B's policeman ; B is entirely independent of the headmaster in his treatment of boys, and knows it. This makes B an autocrat in his own class, and breaks up the school into a number of small sections. The effect of this is that as no unity is possible, the individual masters are in a great degree free from restraint ; and great laxity of discipline 74 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1853- and great unevenness of treatment is the result The boys cease to expect uniformity; the masters drop into slack habits, or are martinets, according to their disposition ; charges of favouritism are rife, and punishments are set according to individual caprice. All real organisation is gone. I attribute in no small degree the efficiency of this school to the fact that no serious punishment is ever inflicted without consultation the headmaster, house master, and class master always dis- cussing the matter. Every master always works and acts with the consciousness that his whole system and the application of it to individual boys has to meet the judgment of the head- master, and that the headmaster knows the boys that have to be dealt with, and that his colleagues are also often called in to give an opinion. I consider these facts alone to be in practice fatal to the thorough efficiency of a too large school. There is no hard and fast line, but each boy added to the numbers over about 330 or 340 begins to act as a drag. Whereas every boy added to the numbers up to about 330 adds to the efficiency of a school, by securing a sufficient graduation of classes and a sufficient number for the training of the outdoor life. Therefore I need scarcely say that there is no choice, in my judgment, between two schools for 500 each and one for 1000. The two schools alone are worthy of the name of schools, and are alone capable of doing school work. . . . There are no principles more definite than the principles which determine that an efficient school must not pass certain boundaries in the matter of numbers. In addition to the limitation put upon numbers in a single house, Thring found in the structure of the houses themselves means to combat the evils of the barrack system of schools of which he had seen so much in his own boyhood. In building his boarding- houses, he provided not only that each boy should have a separate cubicle in the dormitories, but also a small study, from which other boys were excluded i859 THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM 75 except by special permission, and which thus became a little castle of his own. The suggestion of the individual study Thring seems to have found in the picturesque old schoolhouse quadrangle, but with intuitive per- ception of strategic advantage, he seized the hint and developed it into a working principle. In these studies each lad had a refuge for quiet work or thought. Thus while each house gave its inmates a substitute for home life, the independent study gave a boy an opportunity for a degree of private life as well. Thring believed that this much could be secured for the indi- vidual boy without sacrificing any essential part of that hardy training in a large boy republic which is the distinctive mark of the English public schools, and which has been the great secret of their success in preparing men for the actual business of life. No man ever valued this public training more than he did ; but he knew its dangers too. He knew that sensitive natures are often cowed or crushed by being left entirely at the mercy of a mob of thoughtless schoolfellows ; that even for the strongest a certain degree of privacy has its moral and intellectual advantages. Difficult as was the task before him of building, without means, and with but one boarding-house and an insufficient class-room to start from, Thring was at least happy in this, that he had no great structural mistakes of the past to get rid of. In noble architec- ture he delighted, but he never envied schools which possessed stately piles of buildings designed for archi- tectural effect, but with no reference to the training of boys. He saw clearly how often able men's work was hampered by defects of external structure. The thought with which he began was that every brick put in place in a school, every plot of ground laid out, 76 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1853- should be so disposed as to assist in making it easy to do right and hard to do wrong. That structure should lend itself to the master's work, and not thwart it ; that nothing should be left for men to do which could be done by machinery, he held to be essential. " The almighty wall," was the terse phrase into which he condensed the thought that structure, over any long period of years, is a final arbiter of schools, by its steady pressure elevating or lowering the life within. But to secure training for each boy other questions than the structure of houses, the limitation of numbers in the house, the class-room, or the school, must be considered. A great school has to deal with a wide variety of tastes and capacities. " Every boy can do something well," Thring used to say. A good school which aims at making the most of each boy should be prepared to give opportunities in many directions. A boy who cannot hold his own in purely literary work may command the respect of his fellows, and, what is even more important for healthy growth, may maintain his own self-respect on other lines of effort. Games were a matter of course, and on them he laid great stress, aiming at as perfect an equipment as possible in cricket and football grounds and fives courts. It seems strange, in the light of present practice, to find that the gymnasium opened in 1859, a d the gymnastic master put in charge of it, were the first possessed by any public school in England. A carpentry and a shop for metal work, each with skilled instructors, a garden where plots were assigned to pupils, and swimming baths, in default of any convenient natural bathing-place, were among the other appliances which, sooner or later, he adopted to carry out his general 1859 THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM 77 idea of giving variety of interest or useful training in leisure hours. On a higher level, and at the time more singular as an innovation, was his introduction of music as a regular ^ part of public school training. This must be spoken of at greater length in another place. But a fully employed staff of seven highly- trained music masters, whom he lived to see at work in the school, bore witness to the success of his experi- ment ; the fact that the subject has now a recognised place in the majority of the great schools shows the far-reaching influence of the example. Thus far his plans looked mainly to the welfare of the unit in the school. But they had another aspect and direction. The peculiar influence of the English public school in moulding character depends in no small degree on a singularly subtle, but also singularly powerful sense of unity which gradually comes to pervade the school community. A long history and its traditions, common worship, common discipline in work and sport, the close contact which comes of common residence, similarity for the most part of social sympathies, common successes or failures in contests intellectual and athletic all these seem to be factors in generating among the boys this strong sense of a united school spirit. To the strengthen- ing of this feeling, with its silent but powerful compul- sion on the character, mind, and manner of the individual, Thring attached the greatest importance. So while he planned the domestic and teaching machinery with a special view to the training of each boy, he knew well that a great school must have the appliances for collective treatment. Chief among these were a school chapel for common religious services, and a speech-room 78 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1853- or large school-room where the whole body could meet, and thus be made conscious of their common life, on public occasions. From the very first these large and expensive buildings were included in his plans. From what has been said, it can now be understood what was the constructive work, to speak of brick and mortar alone, which Thring had outlined, not merely in his mind or in conversation with friends, but on paper, when he set himself the task of constructing a school which would satisfy what he conceived to be true principles of education. It has seemed best to make this clear first of all that the after struggle may be the better understood. After his end was gained there was a disposition to look upon the rise of Uppingham as something parallel with that of other schools, and to accept it as in the natural order of events. But the friends of those early days speak of the utter incredulity with which they heard Thring unfold his plans ; of the surprise they felt when his splendid audacity, without a parallel, so far as I know, in the history of English public schools, began gradually to be crowned with success. He himself, however, had as yet little idea of the long and painful path he would have to tread in working out his plans. "Yes, I have a work before me," he said to an old Eton friend a day or two after his appointment, " but you know, my dear fellow, self- confidence is not a deficiency in the Thring family." That self-confidence was to receive many a rude shock, but behind it were a pluck and persistent faith which gave it final justification. He had been nearly five years at Uppingham, and had passed through the most severe crisis of his early struggles, when a friend, struck by what he saw at the 1859 THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM 79 school, and impressed by the headmaster's plans for the future, suggested that some record ought to be made of a constructive work so important. Acting on this suggestion Thring began, as he says, " to put down some memorials of the events connected with this great educational experiment and its success, before I have forgotten the struggle and its bitterness, and from day to day to note down such circumstances as may be likely to be useful in time to come." The brief retrospect of the first five years, with which the Diary begins, is the chief clue that remains to the events of this first period. He begins to note down his recollections in December 1858 : On the loth September 1853, I entered on my headmaster- ship with the very appropriate initiation of a whole holiday and a cricket match, in which, I recollect, I got 15 by some good swinging hits, to the great delight of my few pupils. . . . The Trust had allowed the previous headmaster to vacate his post a month before. The school was in full operation, if a small rebellion deserves the name. ... I found myself in an unfurnished house ; my own bed, and a table and a few chairs literally the only things left ; two boxes of books of my own were all the things I had time to bring. A set of troublesome servants, all of whom in the course of the year I dismissed. I was alone, not being yet married ; very far from well . . . and thus without books, servants, or furniture, had at once to enter on a new school, and make a start. There were only twenty-five boys, mostly old, waiting for the exhibitions, my predecessor having taken to Durham eleven of the younger ones. And so the work began. There was one master, Mr. Earle, on the foundation here, and one salaried under-master a very good fellow, but not up to his work with an inefficient writing-master. I dragged through the dreary months as I best could till Christmas, changing the school work a little, and putting the domestic status of the boys on a better footing somewhat, but little could be done then. Two things, however, were very evident : that there never would be any good work 8o LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1853- as long as the system of a headmaster unsupported was con- tinued ; and, secondly, that the foundation was worthy of better things. I determined at once, in my own heart, to begin the present work, to give up the exclusive right to boarders, to engage by degrees able men, to limit them and myself, in number, so as to be able really to educate our pupils, and I felt confident that if the work was blessed there would be no want of numbers in time. I kept this to myself, as I should have been set down as mad if I had disclosed my real views, and I knew that nothing but this success could by any possibility remunerate me for the change. But my trust was in God and that it was His work. Alas ! I was yet to find out that though theoretically I admitted this, yet practically I was too ready to worship my nets ; believed that to get good men with high degrees would make a good school, and was in great danger of becoming self-confident and shallow in work During the first two years, though the growth of the school was very slow, he appointed three new masters, in each case personally guaranteeing a large part of their salary. But he soon found himself in difficulties which would have broken the courage of a weaker man. The appointment of a colleague, who had come to him highly recommended, and of whom he had hoped much, proved a bitter disappointment, and " brought every- thing to the brink of ruin " ; entries fell off ; the guarantees of salaries which he had undertaken fell upon him with crushing weight, and he began to be involved in debts which weighed him down for years. " Well did I learn," he says, " the lesson which he was sent to teach me not to trust to human means. With many bitter tears, and weary days of pain of body and heart, almost in my heart's blood were the foundations of this school laid almost out of my grave in that prolonged agony." A statement made in 1857 of the debts he had i859 THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM 81 incurred for the school throws light upon this strength of language. They then amounted to 2680. His intense earnestness, however, and his faith in the cause to which he had committed himself, soon began to kindle enthusiasm in other men. Foremost among these was the Rev. J. H. Hodgkinson, who was appointed to a mastership in 1855. "I must record," Thring says, "my great obligations to Mr. Hodgkinson, without whose liberal, faithful efforts all would have perished. ... At that time of difficulty and deep pecuniary embarrassment he threw his whole patrimony into the scale, set up a first-rate house . . . risked his all, in fact, in faith on the principles on which the work was set on foot, and by so doing prevented everything from collapsing, as it must have done." Another man to whom Thring always expressed deep gratitude for his faith, sacrifice, and loyal help in this time of crisis was his old Eton friend, Rev. J. Baverstock, who joined him a little later. These two adhesions seem to have turned the tide of battle which was running against him, and gave him the courage to go on. A few years later, as will be seen, another old Eton and Cambridge friend, Rev. J. Witts, threw himself into the work with a courage and liberality which gave a great impulse to the growth of the school. The second master whom he found at the school, Rev. Wm. Earle, for some years hesitated to fall in with Thring's plans, and he records that " it was not until after Christmas, 1857, that I succeeded in gaining him over as a friend and fellow-worker." " One of the most pleasing circumstances that has occurred since my taking office," he remarks of this event. Thus he was drawing to his side the men who knew him best and recognised the spirit of his work. G 82 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1853- For some time the growth of the school was slow. There were twenty-eight boarders at Christmas 1853 ; at Christmas 1854 there were forty-six. Already Thring felt a singular confidence in the ultimate success of his large plan, and one of his chief objects was to get the Trust to take some interest in the growth of the school. He writes to General Johnson, the hereditary patron, in 1855: I am sure, sir, from the fruits we are already reaping, that should it please God to bless us with health and strength a few years will make this school rank among the best of England. The numbers in the two years I have been here will probably more than double themselves, and by the system of first-rate and permanent under-masters taking boarders, there is a power of expansion to any desirable limit ... I confess to being desirous to obtain some tangible acknowledg- ment from the Trust of having been painful in my post, and of their interest in the progress of the work some definite proof that may be a sort of Victoria Cross to us, if nothing more. But the Trust had no such inclination. The chief obstacle lay in the relations of Oakham and Upping- ham. Thring saw clearly that the two schools could not prosper side by side if doing the same kind of work, i.e. preparing pupils for the universities. He therefore proposed a plan by which this work should be reserved for Uppingham, while Oakham should be put on an efficient basis as a preparatory school. This plan was doubtless a good one, since it received the approval of the headmaster of Oakham, who joined with Thring in recommending it to the governors. So far, however, from accepting this proposal, the Trust seems to have spent a large sum in rebuilding at Oakham as an offset to the push which Uppingham 1856 THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM 83 had received from private hands. The following letter from the patron, written in connection with this pro- posal, shows the nature of the local hostility which Thring had to confront : GENERAL JOHNSON TO REV. E. THRING. 1856. If I understand your wish and intention rightly, it is to make Uppingham a first-class and more extended school, and Oakham a second or minor one. Now, my dear sir, suppose you were to succeed in the first of these objects, which you appear to have every prospect of doing, you will never be able to obtain the governors' sanction to such a distinction. You are not aware of the very strong local feeling not only of the governors, but of the two towns of Oakham and Uppingham, and of the jealousy that has always existed between them. I do not think either the governors of the Trust or Charity Estate, or the inhabitants of the county at large, are very anxious for a further extension of either school than the locality so clearly defined by the statutes. REV. E. THRING TO GENERAL JOHNSON. February jth, 1856. I am, unhappily, only too well aware of the difficulty ol moving any body of men not practically engaged or interested. For many years it was my lot to be occupied at King's College, Cambridge, in the endeavour which finally triumphed to put the statutes on a better working footing. The fact is, in these days, unless this is done, an external power which none of us will like will come and settle matters with a high hand, for the present practice is very wide from the statutes. However, as regards myself the case is quite different. No responsibility rests with me as it partially did at King's, and though I could not bear to see this noble foundation wasted and imperfect without laying the case before the proper authorities, having done so it is no duty ol mine to agitate further unless en- couraged to do so. The responsibility of the use or abuse of such high powers does not touch me, and I think it would 84 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING' 1856 even be wrong in me to move beyond a certain point. But it certainly is my duty, as one of the two main workers of the Trust, not to withhold a working plan at this critical moment when such lasting interests are at stake. . . . With respect to the money spent here which you so kindly mention, I can assure you it has been laid out on no hy- pothesis that the Board will give any help, though I shall not easily believe that the first gentlemen of this county take no intelligent interest in the great Charity, and the mere hearty support of such a body of men in the county would at once decide the question of success in our favour. What we have done is based on the necessities of a good school which is not preparatory. I boldly affirm, whatever appearances may be, that there cannot exist a school first-rate in its work excepting on the basis on which this is now established. Immediately I was appointed headmaster here, I saw at once that this noble foundation had never been worked as it deserved. For the old system, under which the headmaster engrossed all the boarders, merely paying low salaries to a changing cycle of assistants, was manifestly an imposture, more or less, as the lower part of the school never could be properly educated, and also, as all depended on the head- master, there could be no permanence, since the character of the school must vary according to its change of head entirely. I at once determined slowly to alter this. ... I gave up all boarders, excepting thirty-two (there have been lately as many as fifty or sixty) ; sent to my friends at Cambridge ; guaranteed ^250 per annum to a first-rate man, handing over to him the rest of the boarders, with permission to take thirty. ... I also engaged Herr Schafer at a guarantee of about ;i2o per annum as a German master, and on my numbers rising, have again engaged on the same terms Mr. Hodgkinson, an ex- perienced teacher, for my lower classes. My guarantees therefore, including Mr. Clarke, and exclusive of Mr. Earle's salary, are not less than ^670 per annum, some of which is perpetual, and all must return but slowly, besides the great negative loss of so many boarders. I trusted by these means, as time went on, to make the school worthy of its noble foundation, and when I had surrounded myself with a per- manent staff of first-rate men and flourishing school, that 1858 THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM 85 the governors would not be unwilling to meet any proposals we might make, or the public to support us. I have said nothing of the sum of money I have spent in improving the school premises. I think, sir, if you visited my buildings you would consider that I had been at no slight expense, and that the improve- ments were very great. Coldness and opposition could not stop the growth of the school. The numbers increased rapidly under the impulse of the new spirit brought into the place. The governors, however, were still strangely indifferent to its progress. In 1858 the need for a school chapel had become pressing. In that year he writes to General Johnson : To GENERAL JOHNSON. Sunday night, August 22ttd, 1858. This evening has brought before my eyes more strongly than ever the very urgent pressure we are suffering under from want of a chapel. . . . The hall to-night, crowded as it was, barely held us at all boys and masters numbering 126, exclusive of day scholars, and more are coming at the quarter. . . . This week has been warm, and boys have fainted three times. . . . Really, sir, I am very sorry to trouble you, but this is no theory. If any governor will come over and be present, especially if the morning is warm, he will have evidence of a fact in this public school requiring to be dealt with at once. . . . All our private requirements both for boarding and tuition we have met and are meeting. We are furnishing even school-rooms whenever rented, but at this present moment we cannot build a chapel, or it would have been up by this time, without at least a guarantee from the Trust, and nevertheless we cannot conduct the school properly without one. Our Sunday worship (in the parish church) is a scandal. . . . The question is very pressing. If the chapel was begun to-day and carried on with all possible speed, I see clearly it would not be finished in time to prevent a temporary cessation of some of our most im- 86 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1858 portant work. When the history of the present rise and establishment of the school comes to be written, as it surely will be, if it lasts, these circumstances will scarcely be credited. These first attempts to win the support of the Trust had little success. The gallery of the parish church had at first met the needs of the school for Sunday services. When that was outgrown the use of the church for separate morning and afternoon services for the school was obtained. Leave for this seems to have been granted somewhat unwillingly, and so the building of a school chapel became an urgent necessity. He thus describes his application for assist- ance to the governors : At the June audit (1858) I laid before the Trust plans for a chapel, as the school had outgrown the parish church, with a guarantee pinned to it of ^500, signed by all the masters. The Trust left the plans and guarantee on the table, and gave no answer at all. . . . Yet the school was doubling itself in about two years. ... At the Michaelmas audit I previously sent round to every governor a memorial stating our case plainly, so at last they were obliged to listen. I went there and was certainly treated with courtesy, and explained to them during three-quarters of an hour the system of the school, why it had risen and would continue to do so, and asked them simply to guarantee ^rooo, we having already done the same. opposed me with his usual narrow bigotry. First, with regard to the numbers : " What could we want a chapel for 400 for when we only had 200 as yet?" This he kept obstinately repeating as if it was impregnable wisdom, as a sort of charm, till I stopped him by saying that five years ago they would have thought me a madman had I told them of the present state of the school, and yet I could tell them that had I not, humanly speaking, been sure of the whole from the very first I would not have moved my little finger, and now the hardest half was done the rest would follow as a matter of 1859 , THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM 87 course. . . . Then he began about the money. I told him that when we had expended ^10,000 already, and now guaranteed ^1000, we thought it a very small thing for the whole power and resources of the Trust to meet it with a poor ;iooo on their part. . . . They had a long discussion after I left, because General Johnson would not give up the effort to get justice done us, but finally refused our application with some complimentary varnish. In this connection the patron writes to him : October zoth, 1858. I am extremely sorry to find so little disposition in the governors to meet your very handsome and liberal offer respecting the building of a chapel for the school at Uppingham, and with regret signed the decree of which Mr. Day would send you a copy. ... I am glad that I some time back told you not to rely on the liberality of the governors, who really appear to me quite as tenacious of the public money of the Trust as they can be of their own, and do not see long before them. And again, in acknowledging a memorial to the governors : I wish you every success with it. But I would not have you raise your expectations too high upon it. I am not sure that the prosperity of the school is a first consideration with some of the governors. The patron had also advised him not to stake too much in the school, or any hope of support from the governors. To GENERAL JOHNSON. September ijth, 1859. I perfectly well recollect your telling me, when you went round our buildings, to have no dependence on aid from the Trust, and I am quite prepared to be on the same basis as Oakham in their eyes. But I am afraid now as then your friendly wish that we should desist from our work falls on 88 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1859 deaf ears. We regret nothing that we have done ; so far from it, that we are determined gradually to carry out all these things ourselves if we can obtain no help. But even if pecuniary support of the Trust was quite immaterial to us, I should still think it very wrong of me, with the convictions I have, to put them in so false a position as not to give them every information and every means of forming a judgment on a point which I feel sure will be the subject of so much attention. I had rather be thought presumptuous now, than that in time to come the Trust should turn round on me and accuse me of having brought obloquy on them and public censure or criticism without warning and without choice. Besides, in very truth, we want the active good -will of the Trust even more than funds. As long as the trustees as a body take no notice of us, so long will many people take their cue from them, and stand aloof and carp because the Trust stands aloof. If we can get a hearty decree for co-operation this audit, it will be of immense value to us, however slow the money may be forthcoming. TO THE SAME. December $th, 1859. I say nothing of my own feelings after six years of such work as has been done here at the share taken in it by the first gentlemen of this and the adjoining county. But I feel sure of one thing, and I will speak plainly, believing that truth is the best Things have now come to a pass here that make me, humanly speaking, perfectly confident of success. But grant we fail, we do not fail now without all England inquiring why, and learning why. Our friends are too powerful, our connection too wide for it to be otherwise. And when we succeed and, in the course of two or three years at the latest, appeal to the world to carry out our successful plans, I had fondly hoped that a series of years spent in this cause, and the great sum invested in it by our unaided efforts, would have interested the Trust, and that we should have had the gratification of proclaiming their honour at the same time. Let the future prove whether this is vanity or not. For 1860 THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM 89 the present we will bide our time patiently, and though bitterly disappointed I am in no way disheartened, and with or without the aid of the Trust am content to carry the thing through and see what will be said of this hereafter. My only great regret is that I have been obliged to write this to you, sir, whose hearty support has so often cheered my labours. I trust you will kindly consider what I have written of a public and not a private character. An appeal was finally made in 1860 to the friends of the school for funds with which to build the chapel. A splendid subscription of 1000 by Mr. Witts in 1 86 1, on taking a mastership in the school, made it possible to begin building in 1862, and in 1865 the chapel was finished at a cost of nearly ; 10,000, and presented, as a part of the permanent property of the foundation, to the Trust. An application for aid in building a schoolroom, made in 1859, met at first with no better success. Strengthened by large guarantees from the masters, it was renewed in 1860 and 1861, when the facts had become so overwhelming that resistance could no longer be made. He was then able also to take a firmer attitude towards the governors. He says in writing to the patron : September i8M, 1860. At that time the assistance of the Trust would have been of vital importance to us, fostering and nursing into life the then infant system. Had it been given it must have com- manded our lasting gratitude. But it was not given ; we had the mortification of seeing the whole power of the Trust diverted to other channels, and had to shift for ourselves. Now we are strong in success, and less inclined to make sacrifices to win a tardy recognition from the Trust, and with higher hopes, but still in a position to feel deeply and grate- fully any liberality on their part Of the money expended on this fine building, which 90 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1860 like the chapel, was built under the direction of Mr. Street, a considerable proportion was contributed by the masters. It was finished in 1863, and also presented to the foundation. It is now impossible to recover many of the facts connected with the prolonged struggle of these early years to refound the school on new lines. But the main features of the struggle can be easily discerned. As he was without any sufficient funds of his own, he had to find masters willing, on trust in his manage- ment, to invest capital in setting up boarding-houses. This was chiefly to be done by encouraging them with subsidies, or by relinquishing a portion of his capitation fees as headmaster. The unwilling governors were to be led or driven into taking some part in providing public buildings. Above all, the internal discipline and character of the school were to be fixed on firm foundations. Of the methods and principles from which the school had already received so decisive an impulse there is an interesting statement in his notes of 1858 : My first step here was to appoint good masters by degrees. . . . The next important step was deciding that priority of appointment should give precedence, but that this should be merely in matter of form. . . . What classes each should teach is decided by the head- master as according to fitness. To teach an upper class requires more knowledge a lower more skill as teacher. Again, instead of making each master responsible tuition- ally for the boys in his house, i.e. making him virtually head and sole master of a small private school, with many sets and many subjects to trouble his bewildered brain, each master is responsible for his class in school alone, and thus works only one set of boys and one set of subjects. These boys he superintends and helps in their lessons out of school also. i860 THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM 91 Thus there is no scapegoat to put any shortcoming on. If his division does well, it is his credit, not an alien tutor's ; if badly, the same. Thus, too, every master is not supposed to be competent to teach the whole school, but to teach his own class well, and in whatever house a boy may be he passes successively through the hands of all the masters instead of being thrown mainly on one, who is sure to treat some part of the school worse than others according to his tastes and main work. Thus, too, each master is enabled to discover thoroughly what each boy in his class can or cannot do. His pride and interest are concentrated on one object. If he fails in that, exposure is certain, and no excuse is to be found. . . . With respect to the boys we aim at truth, i.e. giving them the best of all things in their kind, and perfect freedom within such limits as curtail license. The great point of internal discipline is to make every boy interested in the conduct of his fellows. They are their own lawgivers, inasmuch as the more they show themselves worthy of trust the more rules are relaxed. . . . On the other hand, any infringement of the great rules is followed by the punishment of the indi- vidual, his division, and the whole school. Giving great liberty, we deal with crime or treason with great severity. What can be done by anybody if not done is severely dealt with : faults of ignorance, want of ability, or accident, lightly. It is not worth while to tell a lie, as truth is often pardoned never punished in anything like the same degree. We mix much with the boys in games . . . many a boy whom we must put at a low level in school redeems his self- respect by the praise bestowed on him as a game player, and the balance of manliness and intellect is more impartially kept. . . . The complete way in which the school is in hand enables our influence to permeate it in a way impossible in a mob. Every boy feels that he is known.. The system of single studies and single partitions in bed- rooms, combined with the out-school teaching, allow as much freedom and as much help to be given as possible. We endeavour by encouraging subordinate studies, for the stupid especially, to make every one capable of doing some- 92 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1860 thing at least to give all some knowledge, and thus avoid the festering corruption of a heap of hopeless idlers. . . . Machinery, machinery, machinery, should be the motto of every good school. As little as possible ought to be left to personal merit in the teacher or chance ; as much as possible ought to rest on the system and appliances on every side checking vice and fostering good, quietly and unostentatiously, under the commonest guidance and in the most average circumstances. For example, the whole school with few ex- ceptions is engaged with their masters from seven to nine at night every evening. To the schoolboy eye and casual observer it is a matter of teaching and intellectual guidance, and it is this. But to me it is also that during the two most dangerous hours of the twenty -four every one is under the eye of a master. . . . Trust should be unlimited in action, suspicion unlimited in arrangement, and then there will be no need for it afterwards. When boys are thrown together under circumstances which no man could be safely trusted in, what is the good of whining over breaches of trust Let the government be protective, liberal, and individually felt. Then you have a right to expect individual honour, but not otherwise. A certain percentage of crime must result from inadequate machinery and neglect. Though the school was now growing fast under the operation of these principles, the governors were taking no part and apparently little interest in its progress. "To this hour," he writes in 1858, "with the single exception of General Johnson, no member of the old Trust has even been to see what is done here, although once a year they meet in the schoolroom. . . . General Johnson from the very beginning has been earnest and hearty with advice, sympathy, and support, and the knowledge of this has cheered many a weary hour." CHAPTER V THE BUILDING OF UPPINGHAM (continue^) 1859-1869 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY OF the vicissitudes of this continuous struggle during the first five or six years of his life at Uppingham but a slight summary is given by Thring himself, and only stray glimpses can otherwise be obtained. Progress was steadily made, but at a great expense of effort and suffering. A considerable sum of money had, in the first years of trial and disaster, been borrowed from his father's estate. Payment of this money was required within a comparatively short time, and he had ever upon him the sense of a crushing burden of debt. Meanwhile, the very success of his methods, shown by the rapid increase of numbers in the school, necessitated the appointment of new masters, and the assumption of new obligations for the purpose of supplying the needed school machinery. Thus when his Diary begins in 1859 to be a somewhat full though desultory record of his own life and of the progress of the school, it introduces us at once into the very heart of the struggle by which he gradually won his way to success. 94 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1859 Something should here be said of the nature of this Diary, of which constant use will be made throughout the following pages. As has been mentioned, it was commenced about five years after he began his work at Uppingham, when already far on his way to assured success, and it was carried on, except during holiday periods, to the close of his life, or for nearly thirty years. At first he seems to have intended it to touch upon the educational side of his life only, and quotations already made illustrate this point of view. But it soon became the repository not merely of facts connected with the school, but of his own inner feelings, his judgments of men and things, his alternating hopes and anxieties, his most intimate personal relationships. Thoughts and opinions for which he did not have freedom of expression in the routine of his daily life he put down freely here, and found a solace in doing so. Although he more than once expresses the hope that his experience may be of assistance or warning to fellow- workers, he apparently came to look upon the Diary as likely to interest chiefly his own children with its record of the struggle by which he had overcome difficulties and had lifted the school to success. Only selections from such a varied, voluminous, and in large part private record can be given. Dealing as it does with circumstances and feelings as they arise from day to day it is necessarily disconnected, but it furnishes the best available means of understanding Thring's work, the obstacles he had to confront, and the spirit in which he overcame them. Its complete spontaneity makes it more valuable as an illustration of character and purpose than any formal and continuous narrative, and I have therefore not hesitated to let selections from the Diary form a con- 1859 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 95 aiderable part of the biography. On one feature of this record a word of comment seems necessary. It is often marked by a strong note of weariness or depression. Many who knew Thring intimately have felt that in this it does not give a true reflection of the writer's most characteristic temper of mind, and that it even leaves a wrong impression of his prevailing qualities. In his everyday life Thring appeared the personification of cheerful courage and buoyant hope- fulness. Nothing seemed to dampen his ardour or quench his enthusiasm. To difficulties, dangers, and responsibilities he ever presented an absolutely un- daunted front. So true was this that to some it is difficult to conceive him looking at life from a different point of view. But thoughts written down for the most part in the last hour of toilsome and care-filled days, when the armour for the daily fight has been laid aside, while they strike a lower note, may present to us aspects of life as important as any others for the understanding of character. And if the trials of Thring's life seem at times conspicuous in this private record, the true point ol view will be obtained by remembering that in his public and working hours he kept them resolutely out of sight. Readers there may possibly be, again, who will regard the frequent expressions of religious feeling as overstrained and unreal. Thring was not a man who obtrusively thrust religion into the talk of everyday life, and no conversation was more completely free from cant than his. But none who knew him, or understood the atmosphere of faith and prayer in which he habitually lived, will doubt the perfect spontaneity and sincerity of what he says in the written record of his private thought. " He seemed to see 96 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1859 God with his eye," James Lonsdale writes after a country walk, in which memories of old Eton days spent together had drifted off into talk about present work and a future life. The remark does not represent too strongly the impression which the intense earnest- ness of his religious life made on those around him, and it may be taken for granted that in this particular the Diary reflects with accuracy the writer's ordinary habits of thought. To this Diary we now turn to get glimpses of the history of Uppingham and of its headmaster. January 6f/i, 1859. The difficulty of setting on foot new houses very great. I feel almost inclined to despair sometimes, and sometimes doubt whether I have done right in incurring such great responsibilities, which are so hardly judged by those who do not enter into my views. Are they right ? or am I ? Yet I would not grudge life in the cause, and why should I not trust Him who has brought it thus far ? Faith as a grain of mustard seed shall overthrow mountains. There are indeed mountains to be overthrown. But some have been pitched into the sea. The rest shall follow. Yet if God will let the necessary weight of a debt which brings in the interference of others be removed. February $th. Boys back again ; quite pleasant seeing their friendly faces. Fifteen newcomers. The studies and dormi- tories at the Red House finished. Settled about completing the dwelling-house at midsummer. To borrow the money from Wellingboro' Building Society, and pay off by yearly instal- ments in fourteen years. Shall insure my life for that time. The contract ^1950. Troubles with Alford going on about money. March yd. Wrote to offer Stokoe the Red House and yard attached for nothing, if he would provide himself with a boarding-house. He would also at 5 per cent gain ^50 per annum during his mastership by the arrangement. But any- thing for freedom from debt and slavery; anything, i.e. but give up this work. Yet it is very bitter the burden. Alas ! i859 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 97 that it should be necessary too. Must I bear this cross on and on ? His will be done who gave it. March 2otA. A hearty letter from General Johnson, saying that he will back our memorial to the best of his power, but warning us not to expect much, as some of the governors, he fears, have not the prosperity of the school at heart. I know that, but we shall ride over them in time if they won't move on. March 2$th. Made an offer to Baverstock to induce him to free me from all responsibility about his house, by which I shall lose a great deal, but in the present immediate need I must make the best compromise I can, as so large a sum must be provided at midsummer. April znd. An eventful week over. Stokoe and Baver- stock both accepted my terms. The last houses necessary for perfect working established. Henceforth we strive for perfect- ing, and improving, and maturing ; hitherto for the existence and establishment of the school and system. Laus Deo. gth. Once upon a time I longed for a sphere to exercise my powers in. God forgive me the thought. Would that I could now hide my head in peace. Both wishes, I fear, are about equally wrong and equally right. What will it all signify if I can but do my duty the grinding power and yoke that has been riveted round my neck ; the money chain on the one hand, and on the other the work and pain, and pain and work, boys and masters, and masters and boys. Truly I feel, sincerely I acknowledge, the dark ignorance and blinded self-will which has made this thraldom a necessary physic. Yet mercy, for we are but dust, O remember whereof we are made ! May igth, Most unexpectedly the Cross Keys 1 premises, reaching from my garden to the street, for sale at a moderate price, and the key of the position for future school buildings. The masters met and bought it on the spot Now we are pretty safe. I have always felt and protested that the right thing would come at the right time, and now just as we were on the eve of getting plans, and much debate about sites, 1 Three public-houses in all were suppressed and built upon for school purposes. H 98 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1859 this sudden event takes place and gives us the mastery of the ground we mainly want, besides putting it out of the power of the townspeople to screw us, in a great degree. He will bring it to pass if this is His work How marvellous, if the daily fluctuations and struggle could be unfolded, would ( the pro- gress of this work appear ! Opposition where most interest in success ; blame and strangulation where most love and help might have been looked for ; but the plant thriving from inward strength and unexpected help from divine blessing in spite, nay, in consequence of the human impediments. Laus Deo. September io//fc. This day six years ago I began life here, and all day long have my thoughts from time to time come back full of gratitude and a strange dreaming at the past. " With my staff came I over this Jordan, and now I have been made two bands," I may say with Jacob, and I may say it like him with much of what is menacing and difficult about me. How faithless one is ! I now understand by myself, alas ! how after every miracle God's people were as distrustful almost as ever. Yet there is trust. Let no one hope that enthusiasm or any earthly reward, or love or solaces of work, will keep him fast and true in a really arduous undertaking. I believe I am successful here, at all events men think I am, and at this moment, as I sit here, after six years' experience, I must say that every personal hope of joy in the work has withered. With much to encourage there is so much of doubt, that all the feelings have to be kept in hand and sternly closed up. Whilst the eye and heart uplifted to Heaven alone bring real comfort or the support required, so far as this world goes I think I could heartily welcome a poorer, quieter lot. I am sure that there is no compensation excepting in God's blessing for the toils of this anxious, but responsible, noble, and there- fore happy life. Six years. 0e 8ocu October 2$th. A cheering letter from Mr. Acland, not the first time he has given us a lift. Greatly interested in the statement. Told me to send one to Gladstone and Judge Coleridge. . . . Truly "the work goes on and slacketh not." What a change from six weeks ago ! Yet how I now rejoice at the humiliation. It was needed. Now all seems fair and more than fair. We are being brought into the first educa- 1860 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 99 tional notice in England, and I think the truth of the work will bear the scrutiny. November z^th. Opened the gymnasium to-day a great boon to the school. The boys crowded in in great glee. November 2$th. Strange what a perpetual struggle this life is. The masters now are engaging in a contest for power with me, and carping daily at something. ... I am in the habit of hearing and consulting much, but not one hair's-breadth will I ever give way where it is claimed as a right. It is fortunate for them that there is some one to look after common interests. . . . Here am I after six years of incessant work, head and chief of this school, ^3600 in debt still, and the plea now is that they have advanced on our joint security somewhat under ,300. I told if that was all, I would give cheques for the amount to-morrow ; that I was not going to admit for a moment any plea of a few pounds when I had sunk hundreds and thousands in the cause. . . . Yet these are excellent fellows in many ways. Alas for poor human nature ! . . . November 26th. Had a letter from exposing strongly the shocking immorality of the principles there from a master in the school. Felt with pride and happiness how sound and true our men are here. There may be little vexations, but sound and true they are, honourable, good men at heart in spite of my yesterday's trouble. N.B. We all get rather sulky in these short winter days. It is periodical. Christmas Eve. A calm review of this trying half-year very satisfactory. Immense progress has been made in discipline, in government, and in the external world. February itfh, 1860. The school reopened Saturday. A good entry sixteen at once more likely. . . . We begin in good style. Indeed, to my mind, this is the beginning of the school on its new footing the first time we have started with a perfect staff in full swing. All the masters very pleasant and in good trim. I feel much what an honourable, earnest set they are on the whole. In writing these lines, principally for my children by and by, I leave untouched my earlier feelings and opinions, however momentary or untrue even, in order that they may guess a little the daily trials of this work, and not merely because the result is good think it has been all smooth. Little cares, when the heart is weary and the body ioo LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1860 faint, coming incessantly, have a very absurdly disproportionate effect in a bystander's eyes. When strong and well and fresh things look and feel very differently. Reading or hearing of toil in great heat is a mighty different thing from being at work on a very hot day. Nothing but feeling can make many of the trials of life felt, as many of them turn on states of body, and the mind can only guess at them even when it has once felt them, and how little is that possible if it has never felt them at all. March i$th. (After an account of sports, and details of the athletic events.) A most satisfactory afternoon. Every- thing so genial and pleasant ; one feels one with the boys. Another satisfactory thing to-night. The sixth form have met and have made some resolutions for the better ordering of the school in various little matters of discipline, which they have given out in every house, and it has been very well received. The government is beginning to work, and the principles to leaven the mass. This is the first public identification of the upper boys with the system in ordinary routine. I feel so thankful. Laus Deo. "The work goes on and slacketh not" They have now taken the matter in hand and made the cause their own. It will not stop here. April 2nd. An important day. Proposed to the masters that each of us should take a boy gratis, and thus establish two scholarships yearly of jCl each, tenable for five years. They all took it up warmly, and to-morrow we shall decide and legislate for it. Thus we shall secure the setting of a stream of intellect into the school, no slight matter, judging from the average of the material we have hitherto had. April zgth. First service in our schoolroom very satis- factory. Nothing marks our progress more to my mind than the changes in our church position, when I recall our painful beginning in the gallery, and the parish service. May loth. It has been a great comfort to me in this last week to find that is a real disciple in teaching, and that, though I have failed almost entirely in any actual teaching reform here, the idea will not die. The failure does not seem the same thing now I know that the seed is consciously sown, and the distinction between the rule world and the principle world growing into rules thoroughly grasped. 1860 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 101 June ist. Took a stroll with . Talked education and the lectures on composition and the artistic eye that I had been giving my boys : how literary education if true is not book-worm work, but the giving the subtle faculty of observa- tion, the faculty of seeing, the eye and mind to catch hidden truths, and new creative germs. If the cursed rule-mongering and technical terms could be banished to limbo something might be done. Three parts of teaching and learning in England is the hiding common sense and disguising ignorance under phrases. October 1 2th. Summoned to the governors. I really believe they have taken our schoolroom in hand. A great thing for us if they have, and a great thing, I may say, for them, as it is the last time they could with real credit take up this school. If they act now they will be fairly entitled to credit. They were very courteous, and we now have some friends amongst them besides the General. October i ith. I have had much talk with Mr. Warbrough (from Bristol). I think they will found a really fine school on our system. He seems very sensible, liberal, and earnest, and has entered very fully into our work. He told me he intended to draw up a much more extensive report for his colleagues than he contemplated at first, and wished to submit it to me when ready in order that he might not misrepresent our views. This is a great thing. I cannot but feel greatly strengthened by such a tribute, at the same time that it will be an immense engine of power for reforming education. October 2 $rd. Could not help feeling bitterly, as I was writing to a man to-day about the proposed Bristol scheme, at the zeal and liberality there contrasted with everything mean, petty, and obstructive here, the governors setting the example, which has been well followed. October 2gth. Mr. Warbrough's report for Clifton College came for me to review, and also a very nice letter from Mr. Acland, both of which give us a great lift, and fresh openings for getting out our principles. Mr. W. speaks in very high terms of Uppingham. November 2nd. What a weight and an awe life and its work is at times! O Holy Spirit, do Thou keep my heart. One feels such a tendency to harden, to lose feeling and 102 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1860 settle down into grinding work, and be the slave of work and not its master. The greatness of the work here, its dangers and difficulties, sometimes oppress me much. How manifold, how complicated, how unassisted by ordinary aids, every hand almost against us whenever we move ! Yet " Put not your trust in princes." The living power of this true principle is becoming a mighty thing. Its walls have risen, as they fabled those of Troy did, to the music of Faith, like a cloud out of the ground, by no mortal power. God grant we may not complete the fable, and when successful, in our pride defraud the Immortal Builder. Give us humble hearts, O God, humble and faithful, and then I need not pray for strength. November \\th. I clearly see in the other great schools how the tutor system keeps them going. One good tutor and ten bad, i.e. one good private school and ten bad, the one good will be successful enough to shield the ten bad, whereas in my system, as it is a system, a thoroughly bad manager might almost spoil all, as the parts must more or less work together, and no one master turns out a boy completely inde- pendent of his fellows, as with them. Thus though we are not so likely to get to so low a pitch as they, and under favourable conditions must be at a far higher average, some good work might be done with them when ten-elevenths were bad, whereas that would be impossible with us. November i^th. A most refreshing note from mother to- day, saying that Fitzgerald had heard from the bishop that the Bristol people were going to adopt our system as the best of all the public schools. So it is getting pretty widely known in Somersetshire. Under the pressure of great outside private cares, he says : November i8//%. I felt deeply thankful for being engaged on a real, true work, I trust for God. These sorrows probe and test the heart and motives not a little, and knock about most rudely the fair weather thoughts and feelings. When the waters come in even unto one's soul, how glad one is of a plank from above ; how thankful for the feeling of working for Christ, in some degree at all events ! It dwarfs at once, too, into its proper proportions the baby frettings of foolish coad- jutors. . . . November 2\st. Had a little bit of good from General 1860 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 103 Johnson, who, in returning the Clifton College document, said if not marked "private," and he did not see why it should be, he should like all the governors to see it at the meeting which he hoped would take place almost immediately. I sent it back at once, adding the bishop's news, and some information about what the Bristolians were going to do ; the sum they had already spent, ,13,000, in a site, and what they intended next, a fine schoolroom ! This will work in no small degree, I trust, reassuring some and frightening others of my trustees. What should I have done without the old General ? November z6th. Wrote to General Johnson, as he had given me the opportunity, to state positively that if we had any share in the schoolroom we should not be content with less than we had asked for, and also to put before him how others recognised the work if the Trust didn't, and that we were now in the front rank of English schools, and were not afraid to appeal for help to the public, or inclined to put up with half measures from the Trust. . . . November $oth. This night I stand victorious at the top of the breach. For seven years the Trust has been before my eyes as a massive wall in the way, foiling effort after effort to make any real impression on it. To-day they have decided on building our schoolroom, submitting the plans for our approval before they are carried out. General Johnson was there. What has he not been to us ? To my great satisfac- tion I saw my strong letter to him on the table for the edifica- tion of the trustees. Not the least part of the victory is, that it is a victory, not a thing sneaked into ; every step of ground has been won inch by inch, not quarrelsomely, but in war, as an independent power, since from the very first I have used the same tone and said the same things. It may be now they have yielded they will take a pride in the school. . . . Indeed my mind has run upon it very little, yet I do feel a strong sense of I trust righteous triumph, and trust in Him who gives the battle to whom He pleases, and who has enabled me to over- throw the stronger. The Psalms this night came in wonder- fully with the events of the day. My heart is full of gratitude and my hands feel strong for the future, though there is much heavy work before us. ... December 2oth. When I look back on this half-year the 104 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1861 stride we have taken seems wonderful. It has been very heavy for me, but I never felt so distinctly triumphant and to have gained so much as this time. . . . The school in excellent order, and on their mettle in scholarship at last. The governors beaten into a new schoolroom. All the cottages wanted to complete the new site bought, excepting one. . . . This has long been a dream of mine. Clifton College and the honour that brings us, in Somersetshire too, where I most desire it. All these things fill me with thankfulness, and praise, and faith for the future. . . . 6ey 8oa. December $ist. The last day of a very eventful year. Much good, much bad ; a hard year, but with much progress. The debt still heavy on me, but the main work completed externally. Much unpleasantness among masters, but the rebellious spirit put down, or nearly so, and the main work put on a firm basis there too. Much evil in the school, but still just as above, resulting in a settling and consolidating the in- ternal government. So 1861 opens with the brightest pros- pects I have yet had. May God be with us whatever comes. On looking back a full year I can hardly believe this is the same place, so great has been the outward stride more visibly great than in any preceding year. Not perhaps in mere num- bers, though that has been good (we number 169 in all, I be- lieve), so much as in power and firmness. February zist, 1861. Lecture on education in the school- room from Mr. Warren interesting to me worth anything ; I trust to the school too. I had been praying to-day to be relieved from my heavy debt, or at least given strength to bear it, when, lo ! to-night the lecturer finished his account by an anecdote illustrative of school which had made his heart beat high; saying that a boy had been travelling in France last summer full of life and spirits, and had been asked by his companions to start early on Sunday to have a long day, and he refused. On being pressed he said, No, he wouldn't do it, the headmaster would not like it. They laughed and told him his headmaster was a good five hundred miles away ; what would that signify; 'twas nonsense. But he was all the more firm at this. Then the lecturer turned round towards me and said, " That boy was from Uppingham ; that headmaster was you, sir." I could have burst into tears, I i86i EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 105 was so touched. The school cheered vehemently, greatly pleased. When it ceased I rose and said I was sure they would all thank Mr. Warren ; that they must feel what I at all events felt deeply. I thanked the school for having given one such ; I thought there were many among them ; I trusted there would be all. O God, I do thank Thee. This may well nerve me for many a weary, anxious, money careful day. It is not all lost. (Bartholomew was the boy.) February 22nd. How faithless one is; here to-day my heart has been weighed down utterly by money cares and debt. It does seem so hard to toil and toil and toil, and still to be so trammelled, so anxious. Often the words come into my mind : " The children are come to the birth, and there is not strength to bring forth." I am just one year's income behind my wants and needs, and utterly crippled, and ever pained by it. ... Yet I fear my heart is too rebellious, too faithless. I know the blessing there has been on me here and on this work, and nevertheless cannot shake off or bear this agony, and am ready to say any burden but this when doubtless another burden would wring out the same faithless cry. Or if not, the very fact of the cry shows the fitness of the burden. Yet, O God, have mercy ; remember we are but dust. February 26th. How I feel the good of young people being bred up with affluent notions, even when in after life their existence is quite different, they are ready if they have principle to engage in large works which a more grinding ex- perience would blight before starting. This seems to me to compensate very much the disadvantage it sometimes is when lower natures require accustomed luxuries. Even then they are not so petty as a more trying and sordid training would have made them. Selfishness is not the worse for being a little less coarse. April nth. One learns by experience how different it is being able to do a thing once and many times ; to walk one or thirty miles without stopping. Much of the secret of life turns on this ; it is endurance, God-given endurance, not intellect, which does great things. How often I feel as if I could sit down and let all go, so incessant is the struggle. Just as at Tenby, when I climbed a very steep slope under a burning sun for half an hour or more, crawling over gorse 106 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1861 bushes with my naked hands, and death to let go, so is life now, very much. It is the prolonged strain and the turning yourself body and soul into a pincushion that is so trying. One gorse grasp is nothing, but a series is no joke. April idth. Had a very nice proof though to-day of the school working. I found in my study an exceedingly genuine expression of penitence from E in a letter to me. He has also done the same to H . To reclaim a boy seems to me the most heavenly proof of true prin- ciples. April 2yd. The audit. Came in about two o'clock and was very courteously received by the governors, and at last the whole thing is finished. They buy all the cottages, about ;8oo, and guarantee us ^2500 to be paid in eight years. We raise the money and pay the interest, so that in fact we have our new Quad and a schoolroom given us on our paying rent for eight years, which is what it comes to. And I trust all unpleasant audits are come to an end. It seems like a dream ; we have at last got more than we hoped for, and there is no unpleasantness, but all smooth. Scott is appointed architect. Butterfield, if he cannot at once undertake it. The old General was there. Q# 86ga. April 2<)th. This morning a letter from Witts, whom I have twice asked to take a mastership here, telling me that his brother is dying and probably in straits, and asking if I would renew my offer. How wonderfully things are brought about ! Of all living men I had rather have him as a colleague, and now he asks me when I thought it was all over, and if he comes will build a house and set himself up. I am exceed- ingly cheered and strengthened by this. ... I know no more conscientious, hard-working, nice-minded fellow than Witts is, full of information and with a great connection. May 6th. The J affair ended to-day. The boys are to leave the day after to-morrow. Certainly one learns to form charitable judgments. Taking our experience I do not see how a second-rate school can stand the pressure of ingratitude, folly, ignorance, insolence, and meddling of too many parents. Moreover, unless one tries hard to keep one's heart untainted and fixed on religious motives, the tendency to harden and get reckless, to lose depth of feeling and earnest i86i EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 107 sympathy, is very great. I pray God keep our hearts child- like and gentle. May 22nd. Witts came about twelve, and I think is sure to take a mastership here, and so at one swoop all my main difficulties vanish away. I get here the best working man I have ever known, a man of wide travel and varied accomplish- ments. He will build a house at once ; he is eager to buy up Lord Harborough's land, which it seemed such a pity to let go. He will start a chapel subscription with ^"1000, and . . . will be a support to me in age and standing. It is wonderful ; it is a miracle. How I prayed over some of these points, seeing no way by which they could be brought about, when, lo ! they are brought about in this unexpected and more than hoped for manner. Or at least if it is not to come to pass, I have been shown how God could grant it if it was good, and I will try to school my heart in case He judges it not to be. Yet I trust He will bring it to pass. 6e(j> Soo. June isf. A letter from Witts practically deciding to come, though not quite the formal conclusion. Since I have been here nothing more marvellous has happened to comfort, assure, and strengthen me. How I prayed for help this half- year, and now at once " they had rowed hard all night and made little way, when all at once He came and they were at the haven where they would be." Even such is His sending of Witts to me. June $th. Witts comes for certain. My heart is full of thankfulness, but as yet I hardly realise all it is to me. This is a full compensation for this weary grinding half-year. I do feel grateful. I hope to see him here to-morrow or next day. 0e^T 8oo, Amen. August $th. Came back on Saturday night after very satisfactory holidays ; for the first time since I have been here with no master cares on my hands. . . . The schoolroom still drags on its slow length. I accepted the proposal of the governors, with the exception of giving a smaller bit of Hodgkinson's garden up, viz., that they should give ^2500 and the old schoolroom, and that we should undertake the building. Then they had another meeting, and made a final decree to this effect apparently, only that it was open to the interpretation that we bound ourselves to spend io8 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING t86i ^3000 in building. I accepted their decree, declaring that we only bound ourselves to spend 2100 in actual building, as the Cross Keys and cottages cost ^2000, and I am now waiting to hear whether my interpretation is correct. Scott in the most handsome manner, in his report, repudiated taking the work out of Street's hands, and practically snubbed the governors soundly for their behaviour in thinking of it. August 2$rd. Words cannot tell the intense relief the present state of things is to me. For one thing I have a thorough appetite for my meals now, which I have never had before under the perpetual load of care and anxiety which was always on me, though less felt sometimes than at others. Now, though money is still tight, I feel quite light-hearted and unoppressed. We are in all main points so united, and the work is progressing on a sure basis. September yd. H proposed an excellent scheme this morning to fund the schoolroom debt, and to keep the whole schoolroom in our hands, which was agreed to nem con. I went and got my bank-book, and am greatly dismayed at finding how much the debt has grown on me this last two years. My heart is very sad. God knows best, but it is very bitter to be trammelled so many years. I feel very harassed. Marie and I knelt and prayed for deliverance if possible, and I have promised, vowed, I might almost say, to undertake no fresh responsibility or expense till free. God bless us in both. If it is Thy work, O God, do Thou uphold us. Is it my impatient want of faith that has plunged me in debt ? yet surely the coming of here was Thy visitation, O God, and that began it. O save and keep us, and perfect this work, we beseech Thee. September \oth. We all signed the agreement, and those of us who were to, the bond for the money for the trustees ; all as smooth as can be. September i6th. The schoolroom plans came yesterday, and are very beautiful. I only hope we may be able to carry them out. . . . Wrote a circular to be printed, and sent to all the governors to ask them to act on the Chapel Committee and to subscribe. ... It amuses me to think what a squib in the midst of them it will be, and how it will puzzle some of them to know what to do. 1861 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 109 September i%th. Sent off our appeal, but I no longer feel anxious about these things, all will come in good time, though not perhaps the way we think, and I have a sort of feeling that the work will have to be carried through by self-sacrifice, and that the riches and power of the world will not be permitted to take much share in it. ... September iqtA. Nothing but fears about the schoolroom, and what we are to do if the contract is not taken. It seems hard to give it up, but I had rather do that than put up an inferior building. September 27^. This afternoon a most welcome letter; the Dean of Westminster will be on our committee. . . . This morning received a ^5 note from Mr. Gladstone, and leave to put his name on the Chapel Committee. All the masters are delighted. October \st. I feel so happy at having again at least a hundred communicants in the school real communicants, who come of their own free will. . . . This week has been a week of great blessing to us. First Bishop Chapman's visit and his blessing the school, and then our confirmation. I feel deeply the peace and confidence of such divine aid. October i ith. Governors' meeting. Numbers shown in 175, 171 boarders and 4 day boys. October \ith. Delighted by a letter from Mr. Acland, most hearty and thorough, giving me leave to put his name on our committee, and telling me he has been strongly advising my being examined by the Public School Commission. I am glad of his name. He was the first public man who gave me a cheering word here ; I shall not forget that as long, I think, as I remember anything. Rawnsley was the first friend who sent his son, and dear old Newbolt the first family neighbour who announced his intention of backing me by sending his. November $th. Would to God our debt was wiped off. I have been thinking much of it to-day. His will be done, and certainly I have much reason to trust it, but, alas ! debt is very bitter. Have been talking to my wife to-night about it. She thinks of the children. I am not afraid for them. If ever I believed anything, I believe God's promise that if we sought Him first He would repay it. They will not want, no LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1861 or if they do it will be blessed to them. And it is just want of faith about children which stops many a man who is not afraid for himself. Had a very cheering letter forwarded me this morning by the guardian of one of the boys, who wants to subscribe ^5 on account of the good the school has done him, and who quotes with pride my declaration that to have been at Uppingham must be a passport for honour, integrity, and manliness. He is a heavy, ill-educated fellow too. It he has felt this so strongly the leaven has been working. God be praised for this. These things cheer the heavy heart weighed down by earthly cares and money gnawing anxieties. November 2oth. I heard to-day that the governors openly proclaim their disapproval of our having changed the system here and raised the school. I could laugh when I recollect my childish dreams when I first came, of how I would be liberal, and not ask them till I had proved my sincerity, and the goodness of the system, and then how they would meet me in funds and gladly help us on ! December ist. Witts back from London, and gives a most successful account of his visit to Street. We are to have the windows of Oakham Castle for the great schoolroom. So the governors will understand that. Street is quite up to them. He told Witts that a son of one of them told him in Oxford that the fact was the governors did not approve of the change in Uppingham, and wished it to remain in its old state. December 6th. Much cheered this morning by Lord Gainsborough giving us a promise of ,50 for the chapel. December i$th. The main body of the school gone and all well. Thank God for having got over this half-year quietly. . . . This has been a wonderful year. What a miracle the whole place is with all its buildings and power ! . . . The school is now wonderfully clear of direct evil. There is not now one bad boy here of any age. Christmas Day. Another come round again, and (except- ing money burdens), how free from care ! What a noble band of men are now united with me here, and what an unceasing help my own dear wife has always been ! Never have I had a discouraging or reproachful word from her in all my great ventures, and its heavy money burdens, and the 1862 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY in way in which all her work is well done is an inexpressible support to me. Had not my home been capable, helpful, and happy, I think I should have died in these sore years. On Monday I rebought Matthias' late house, raising the money on mortgage and bond for 2000. May this be blessed, and not a stone round my neck. January tfh, 1862. Came back yesterday after a pleasant visit at Shiplake. A momentous year ended. It is impossible to overrate it to me and the school. . . . Witts and Rowe have come, and two fine houses set on foot The school- room controversy nearly brought to an end, and a chapel fund advancing steadily, while the school internally is in first- rate order. To set against this the expense has been crushing, and I am nearly at my wits' end for want of money. To-day my heart well-nigh failed me as I thought of our debt and the difficulties before us, and earnestly and bitterly I prayed to God for help and deliverance. Next week there is a meeting of the governors about the schoolroom plans. ... I never began a year with so much promise, and at the same time things are very critical too. May He who best can bless, keep and sanctify us in this sore trial and severe strain, and turn the evil to good. Cloudy the year begins to me, full of clouds, but the sun is visible behind. O may He burst through this barrier, and shed light on our work. Must I always work in chains, O God? If so, give me heart to say, "Thy will be done." January ith. Heard yesterday morning of the death of dear old aunt at Clifton. This alters all our plans. I go to Alford for the funeral on Thursday. . . The long journey is both sad and expensive. January \$th. An eventful week over last Saturday; one of the most eventful, as far as visible facts go, in my career. I went down to Alford to Thursday, and my father was exceedingly pleased I had come. To my astonishment, for I did not know my old aunt had anything to leave, I find myself with a legacy of ^500. This wonderful answer to my prayers, this help and deliverance in part has greatly comforted me. Then on Friday I hear both the school plans and the chapel have been passed by the governors, and I hope now all serious difficulties on this score are at an end. 112 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1862 In the meantime the J affair : has assumed gigantic pro- portions, as I have been honoured with scurrilous leading articles or notices in sundry of the low papers. . . . Private letters of the vilest abuse come in, and one can but sit still and bear it all as one best may. . . . Some harm it will doubtless do, but I trust good also. I feel so sure of being right, and the malice and lying are so bitter that I trust in God against such iniquity, and were it a thousandfold what it is would still do so. I may truly say in this matter, " God is on my side, I will not be afraid what man can do unto me." Sunday 26M. The last day of my holidays. Have been reading one of the Christian Knowledge little books, Alice Gray. Blessings on the simple little stories of my generation. If the day is hotter and the burden heavier, these little fountains and breezes keep the heart refreshed and pure. How much I owe to them ! February znd. To-day has been quiet, and I have felt strong in purpose and endurance. Yet a strange shadow of awe and imagining has wrapt me about very much to-day ; glimpses of eternal purposes, and my own weakness and shrinking mixed up with faith and prayer, and readiness to do and act, stirrings of unknown futures, strange contradictions of humility and power, strength and defeat, or seeming contra- dictions clashing within ; a desolate, chilling sense of the wickedness of the world and the difficulty of doing good combined with a quiet perception of Christ and His working, and the need of working like Him, and that these earth chills arise just because the work is His. In a wintry land the brilliant ice- shapes spangle and shine unthawed and also unhurt by night. But when the sun draws out life from the earth darkness raises fogs to blight it. An evil success rouses no enmity in the evil, is applauded by the world, but truth must face the storm. 1 Several boys had been flogged for want of punctuality in returning to school after the Christmas holidays. The father of two of the boys protested, and published his correspondence with the headmaster. The public discussion of the matter gave Thring a reputation for severity in school management, but in the end greatly strengthened his position in the school. 1862 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 113 February tfh. Another very malignant article sent me has rather clouded my day. The Dean of Ely l brought his son to-day, and sundry parents have occupied my time. I feel very weary-hearted again, perhaps simply because I am tired. ... I really feel to-night so jaded, and badgered, and faithless, and hard, that a little (or much) of the old Adam rises, and I almost long to plunge into some fierce reality instead of holding on in patience and power . . . instead ot the long restraint, the bearing the quiet daily efforts, the self- control, the real, true life of Christ. February 8M. In the afternoon I was exceedingly cut up by finding a most sarcastic satire on me in the Saturday Review. I am not ashamed to confess that to find educated gentlemen joining in this scurrilous attack was a very bitter pill, not only personally, but more and more making me fear for education generally. However, I defy the devil and all his works. . . . There is a stern reality about this life, its trials and tempta- tions. I feel Scripture so. But yet would that I had more faith. February qth. A quiet day ; the Holy Communion very comforting. Preached in the afternoon for an Uppingham missionary in Australia, Mr. Greaves, one of Holden's most valued pupils. That and the offertory came to 12 for him. February loth. Hateful as the turmoil is, I am much supported and very little cast down. The greatest nuisance is expecting every post to find one's self pilloried in some fresh newspaper. February \2th. It seems most strange to me that the depth of interest in the work here, and all that appears calculated to draw out feeling and love for it, should be suffered to be so rudely swept away and blighted. May it not be that this feeling is of self and human, whereas Christ would have an unselfish and heavenly motive for work. I know not. The fact is certain : the reason I believe to be this. For assuredly He does train us in the best way. February i tfh. Was asked to play football to-day ; the Sixth against the school. Did so, though I have long ago given up regular playing ; it is too severe. Had a first-rate 1 Harvey Goodwin, afterwards Bishop of Carlisle. I 114 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1862 game. They play a great deal better than when I left off, indeed they play beautifully. I could not help thinking with some pride what headmaster of a great school had ever played a match at football before. Would either dignity or shin suffer it ? I think not February 22nd. Played football again to-day. Am read- ing with two of my first form for the Christ's scholarships. I must say the terms one is on with the older boys are simply delightful. I am so gratified by the way they always bring me any little bit of literary news they think will interest me. February 2^th. I have felt very happy to-day. I paid the rector the last instalment of our ^500 subscription to the church. ^170 and rather upwards of it has come out of my own pocket ; for S 's and M 's departure made it fall very heavy. Wednesday, April 2nd. The beginning this new book (of the Diary) fills me with solemn thoughts. What will its records be, shall I ever finish it ? The first day of it has begun with an auspicious event, as yesterday we gave a concert to the town which went off exceedingly well. I rejoice exceedingly, and look on it quite as an epoch in the school history. For, first of all, it is of infinite advantage to have been able to find a way of publicly knowing and benefiting the town. The choir has been much raised in dignity by it too, and will be greatly improved in consequence of the increased zeal. Sunday, 6th. A quiet, peaceful day, though wet and dreary in the morning. What a blessing the Sundays are ! How much vexation and care I bury on them, resting, and worshipping God, and often receiving of His peace ! April igth. I am sick of parental jaw. When will people learn that in nine cases out of ten they only hear half the evil against their children. Honesty is a very hard thing for a schoolmaster ; self-interest in these carping days of shame and delusions makes it a brave man's work to face his duty of punishing evildoers, whilst the great anxiety and grind of the work may make even an honest and brave man pause before he draws upon himself the fresh evil and annoyance of an angry parent in these days of lying and publicity. May loth. A trying week over. Some of the boys very busy collecting money for the chapel. It is very pleasing to 1 862 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 115 find the honest interest they take in the things. I value their zeal more than all the rest. This has been a very eventful half-year, perhaps the most eventful externally that we have spent, but God is bringing it to a successful close. 0e 8oa. May nth. A quiet, calm, pleasant day, with a sort of feeling of coming battle about it, " the lull before a tempest," a far-off murmur of schoolrooms, and chapels, and governors, and commissioners, and brothers, and masters, all blended together as about to wake into noise and strife. I pray not. Would that life was but work and the fighting away. But what matters the pictures on the slides if at the end there is something real. May i^th. I feel very weary day by day. Bed, as at Ilminster, has become to me again the best part of the day. Debated this morning whether we should lay a first stone for our chapel at all. I get very tired of the perpetual friction or dread of friction. I understand what men meant in past days by the " cold shade of the aristocracy." To do hard, anxious, and responsible work with a dead man tied to you, Mezentius-wise, is no joke. I am full of care, too full p) fjKpifj.va.Te. Yes, but where is there such faith? Would to God I had it, I am very weary. We make a beginning this week in the schoolroom. One pleasure to-day, a beautiful copy of English verse translation from Nettleship minor. 1 He will indeed be a star if he goes on, and a steadier, nicer fellow never breathed, or more trustworthy. May \ith. Saturday seems to be a day of important news and doings for me. To-day I signed the schoolroom contract, and Witts and I signed the first contract for the chapel. May the blessing of God rest upon it and complete it. The schoolroom is to be finished by 3ist March 1863. The step itself is very weighty, and full of daring and anxiety, increased indefinitely by the temper of the Trust, and the uncertainty whether we shall ever be free from molestation from them. It is doubtless good, but every stone here is laid in sorrow and fear, and mortared with sweat, and blood, and perplexity. God help us. Sunday, May i8//fc. A fine day, quiet and peaceful, ena- bling me to consecrate somewhat yesterday's work by prayer 1 Lewis Nettleship. n6 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1862 and praise. Indeed I have been singularly free to-day from care and thought. May zith. A talk this morning about the theory and practice of elementary teaching, and what is the object of school-work, which I hope may bear fruit. I insisted strongly on the collecting material being the first thing, and that the necessary grind in the lower classes ought to make a boy acquire enough in a fair time, whilst as regards teaching, that too much should not be attempted, but the worst class of faults weeded out first by strong measures, others being passed over till then with mere correction, and also that it is good to have a special lesson for grammar explanations and questionings, making the other more acquisitive of material. Sunday, June \st. A very friendly letter from the Dean of Peterborough this morning again, really very friendly. It has comforted me much. It is really the first genial recognition I have had from any one in this country, and I value it accordingly. June nth. Money cares heavy on my heart to-night. Debt is a fearful burden, and with a younger brother's position in a family, with no common feeling on life, but with plenty of touchy love to make them anxious, a yoke most painful most heavy. It is my cross. I dare not pray for its removal, and yet I cannot bear it. O may He who alone can comfort and help. August <)th. How strange that with an obstinacy which can face anything there should be interwoven a sensitiveness which can face nothing. Let there be want of sympathy and tact, and any power in one of the family, and it makes me ill to have to meet it. How strange, too, is life ! Men look on it as a straight path of right or wrong, whereas in its higher complications right and wrong get very doubtful in many things as higher and lower laws clash and mingle. Tis easy to go on in a straight path when there have been no false directions or wandering, but get out of the path either will- fully or by being forced out, let the relations or bearings of life be as it were dislocated and out of their respective positions, be oppressed and wronged, and have the woe and the work and the struggle then. Oh, not to do any wrong amidst a tangle of such a kind ! Nay, even to know which i86a EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 117 is right and which is wrong, when like David we must eat the shew-bread or die ; this is what I seem to have known. . . . August i$th. My want of faith is very distressing; here am I, after nine years of preservation and wonders, yet so weighed down by the weight and burden of the life, so crushed by the constant roll down of the Sisyphus stone of the world and its power on my head, that I feel I fear less strong in spirit instead of more strong from all that has been done. One thing, I now know the weight ; then it was only to come. I have now felt the battle, then I was but marching into it. ... I want the patient power of a leader. August 2%th. Then Atlay cheered me greatly by his help- ful good sense, and he is going at once to set about trying to get security to raise ^2000 for the second contract of the chapel. I felt greatly his thorough-going aid. Then in the evening I had a talk with Holden, who showed me in many ways how strong a hold the principles of the school have on some, and filled me with hope of establishing here a character for honour and truth. I was cheered to my very heart from it. September 2ist. Have been taking leave of Willis, Nettle- ship, Anstey, and Bartholomew, and have been intensely comforted in parting by their quiet, honest goodness. I do feel the grace of God to-night in sending out these spiritual sons of mine. Anstey especially asked my judgment about his profession, and after a little talk said he wished to be a missionary, and thought his father wished it too. I had a most interesting talk with him about life, and am indeed strengthened by these visible proofs of noble purpose, so sober, so quiet and calm, but so steadfast and pure also. . . . Years of toil are repaid by these moments ; clouds of doubt and sorrow clear as I see the reality of what is doing, and I cannot but glorify God. September 29^. Yesterday I went over to Kibworth. Osborn had asked me to meet F. D. Maurice, who had been taking duty in the neighbourhood, so I was tempted. Maurice is a little man with a fine head, large above and lessening to the chin, thoughtful-looking, and acute, a mixture of both, reminding me slightly in some ways of Essays and Reviews Williams, but looking more powerful and less gladiatorial. He talked pleasantly, but not very much, gave me the im- Ii8 LIFE OF EDWARD THR1NG 1863 pression of observing men rather than displaying himself, withal gentle in manners and quiet, a man seemingly who had rather teach than fight, and rather fight than give way. October ist. I spoke seriously, though very friendly, to N to-night about the necessity, if he is to be made praepostor, of his being thoroughly trustworthy as a helper of the helpless, a doer of justice, and having the spirit of order and true open life. I said that something more was wanted for a praepostor than mere negative qualities, and that if I did not feel this in him I should not make him one, as would naturally be the case in about a year. October $th. Mrs. Macmillan said this morning, that coming to church as she did with her impressions formed from college chapels, she was almost overcome to hear the singing by all here, and that she shall send every one to see, for that it is impossible without this to have any idea of the place and all its tone and character. October 2ist. My teacher of carpentry came yesterday a most intelligent, respectable-looking young fellow, quite the thing for the work; thoroughly trustworthy looking. Have been making arrangements with him to-day. November 2&th. Had a letter from Sir Stafford Northcote himself, asking my opinion on an important educational question qua Eton. Wrote a long letter in reply. I do feel most grateful for the great proof this is what way the school here and its principles are making in the country. It is wonderful how God is bringing us out, and making our work here bear on unexpected ways on the great schools. January &tA, 1863. Went to Rawnsley's on Friday last and spent two very pleasant days there. Came back on Monday. Since then have had on one of my debt fits of illness and anguish ; it is fearful having to drag on in this way. I find myself exceedingly involved at the present moment, though the school is, thank God, flourishing, and I am very harassed again and downhearted. It seems so endless. It is a fearful thing having to conduct a great work of this kind without capital. What shifts has not one been reduced to ! How dearly sometimes has the advance or not going back been purchased ! What a load is on my head and heart ! . . . 1863 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 119 January list. I am inexpressibly tormented, quite ill, at the thought of my debt. The want of 1000 at the present moment not only poisons all this prosperity, but almost drives me to despair. I cannot get out of it ; it wraps me round like a plague mist, and yet there is no real cause for such anguish, I believe. Certainly things have been far worse for the present, and never so bright for the future. Yet prolonged pain breaks down the strongest ; repeated wounds cow the bravest. Then I was fresh, however great the pain ; now I am weary hearted and worn. May God strengthen me. One thing I find : I must not stay home again till I am more free. How shall I face the half-year if the holidays gnaw my vitals so fearfully ! January 2$rd. This afternoon's post brought me the pleasant surprise of a cheque for ^50 from my father to mark his approval, he said, of my staying at home this holidays. My poor father will never know the needs of different lives, or anything about mine. How gladly would I have stayed at home often, if work and worry and care would have let me, and it is only on the last page that I have recorded the im- possibility of doing it long ! However the $o is very welcome, and my father well pleased. January $ist. This evening all the boys back. I quite rejoiced at seeing the pleasant, friendly faces of my upper pupils, and at their hearty greetings. This is the pleasure of our life, that we live with them and they with us in so kindly a way. I do feel cheered and strengthened at finding myself amongst them again. Certainly if being liberal and true has brought much pain in some ways, it is an exceeding great reward in all things pertaining to life. Qftp S6a. February \st. I have been reading to-night one of those refreshing little story books which from time to time keep my feelings clear and simple and nerve me for life, a book my mother has sent to little Margaret, edited by Mrs. Gatty, seemingly by a child of hers, at least the initials make me think so. ... February 2yd. I sometimes think this record will seem a strange querulous sort of affair, but nevertheless in a journey the heat and fly-stings are very serious, and what I feel to be the burden of my life is just the unnecessary bloodsucking of 120 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1863 these absurd but deadly little jealousies, tempers, and perpetual baitings. . . . What is done and the success by and by will want no history, but I cannot but think that the difficulties and vexations that have secretly hindered and embittered the work may prove no useless knowledge to true workers, even if it be in their judgment only the record of my own short- comings and inefficiency. For the success of a great work becomes all the more valuable as an example when it seems to be God's blessing on the true effort, rather than any out of the way excellence in the human instruments. February 2$th The Sixth Form are thinking of starting a magazine in the school. I shall encourage it. Anything which gives life and occupation is good. March 1 2th. A (who has not been at all satisfactory here) came to see me, and with many tears confessed that he had been having help in his verses given him, and that he could not bear to go on doing wrong in this way any longer. I had some nice talk with him and comforted him about the future, and after praying with him a short prayer, and telling him to begin and end the day with the same sort of short special prayer for help, sent him away much relieved in heart. But these are the blessed glimpses God sometimes vouchsafes us of truth working and leavening, lifting up the veil a moment to show us the secrets of inner life, and that it is not in vain that we struggle and strive for truth. To think of a little boy, voluntarily, in no row, but quite unsuspected and un- accused, coming of his own accord to the headmaster to get the painful burden of a secret dishonesty, which in most schools is considered nothing, and of necessity is made to exist, to get this off his mind and to be comforted and seek help and advice ! It is a glorious reward. This is indeed the impres- sion I have wished to give the boys : of one ready to help, and gentle to comfort the earnest, however clothed in power and obliged to use it often. Thank God, they do think this of me those who are in need and can come to me for sympathy. March \$th. I now see what has puzzled me, why despotic rulers so persistently and seemingly madly resist and struggle against popular reforms. No man who is responsible can stand the pettiness and selfish folly of semi-responsible advisers. 1 863 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 121 There is no medium. Such a ruler must either be like our Queen, relieved of almost all responsibility, or he must be despotic. To be responsible and have to yield and veer about with the semi-responsible and officious, no living being could stand. April yd, How much I feel at these periods [a pupil was seriously ill] the reward of true work ! I do not fear meeting our pupils before the Judge. April gth. I should like to carry out my theory of teach- ing more perfectly, but that, excepting in enumerating general principles, I have not succeeded in establishing as I hoped. The men are not trained enough to appreciate fully either my views or the rules of obedience. So I am obliged to leave them to do what they can, and to be satisfied with a fair graduation of subjects and fair uniformity in the general plan. A really well-taught upper class school, where all classes are being worked on a graduated scale of teaching as well as of subjects, is the work of another generation. . . . April 2 1 st. . . . One of the governors, in the course of this discussion, said " it was a mere money speculation of ours ; " I turned full on him and begged to contradict him most emphatically, and to assure him that I knew at the beginning, as I know now, that it would never answer me at all events half so well as getting rich on the old system without risk. "Then," quoth he, "you did it for nothing." "No," I answered, " I believe in education, and the greatness of the work in supplying education in a country which needs it as much as ours does. And I was ready to stake my life then on doing it, and I am ready now. I admit," I said, " times have been when the magnitude of the undertaking has made me feel very weary hearted and weighed heavily upon me, but not now, gentlemen, not now, now we have succeeded. Even if I was ruined there are those gone forth who will never forget the system they have been under ; the seed is sown. I have no anxiety now." Mr. Finch said certainly as to the KvSos I might be satisfied ; I had enough of that. I said I cared for the work, that it was no money speculation. In the course of the discussion, they said their successors might bless them (curse) for the repairs of these large build- ings. I said I was prepared to stand the judgment of 122 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1863 posterity as well as they ... It was a sharpish encounter ; I can give but a brief though pretty correct epitome of it. One thing I rejoice specially at : the having borne witness before them with all my might that it was no money specu- lation, but an anxious desire to serve God. Whether they will hear or whether they will forbear, they have got it, and cannot repeat their calumny honourably again. I sincerely rejoice, and on the whole feel that I have borne good testimony on this day. But only to think of a body of English gentle- men venturing to assert openly that their successors would curse them because of the repairs needed for our noble buildings. They said also their successors might object to the largeness of the school. Proh pudor I What is the good of talking, what can argument avail, what impression can truth make on men who argue that their successors may curse them because of having to keep in repair the noble buildings we build ? May %th. The whole holiday for the school reaching 200. I spoke a few emphatic words yesterday very few telling them just to ask the question of themselves, " What has made us great ? Truth and liberty." The schoolroom which had been the outcome of so much anxious thought and work was opened on June 1 8th of this year (1863). Thring's speech on the occasion remains to illustrate the ends he kept in view, and how steadily he held to them : I know not what may be the feelings of the great company that has met together here to-day in this noble building. That a power has been at work in this place all must see. These buildings are its outward sign ; your presence here a testimony and a homage to it We claim that testimony that homage distinctly and boldly as given to the cause of truth and true work to that and to nothing else. This is the magic that in spite of all difficulties is doing what you see. No one can know the might of true work and faith in it till he tries. It is not genius, it is work and faith that prevails. Perhaps some may think that if I chose I could tell an exciting story. It may be so. But this I know the 1863 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 123 story of our life here is very simple and as prosaic as it well can be. An earnest desire to work out truth and faith in truth against any odds ; a belief that the young need not be false that is all. My colleagues and myself felt sure that to educate without machinery for educating was a sham, and that the result would be a sham and all false. Acting on this belief we began, and the rest of our life has mainly been one long series of laborious, commonplace days. Ten years ago, just ten this noble old foundation counted its twenty-five boarders and one house. You see to-day what a clear sense of honest work and patience can do with scarcely any external aid, and none of the glitter that usually dazzles mankind. . . . Something also I would say to the school on the subject of school greatness. I have observed lately no unnatural desire to claim a position among English schools. Now you cannot claim it. It must come. Indeed, we are very far from wishing that the school should come forward on the false ground of mere increase of numbers which may be an increase of shame, for a mob is not an army or of mere identity with other schools, which is not what has made us what we are. Yet be sure there is the means here of being great. Have you so soon forgotten the motto in your head room Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control, These three alone lead life to sovereign power. Yes, power must come, and there are two ways for it to come. Most of all, and first, the winning a character for truth and true honour. Most of all, that no lie in word or deed, no shams, no underhand deceits shall harbour here nothing that will not bear the light. Let this be the school character, as I trust it is, and fear not, the school is great. And, secondly, though it is but an offshoot of this the winning character for scholarship. There must be true, earnest, untiring work, and appreciation of work, renown for scholarship, and every one caring for that renown. Now we have had much individual excellence and much success, but it is idle to expect that there can be enthusiastic power, the tenacious grasp, the bull-dog perseverance, the eager grudging every moment as lost which is not clearly gained, the racer '24 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1863 elasticity that belongs to a truly great school, if all from the lowest to the highest do not hang on the reputation of their champions, and kindle in them living power by the conscious- ness of all eyes being fixed on them. No school will reach its full stature till this universal feeling exists ; no amount of deader work will make up for the loss of this living fountain of life and energy. Be then great, and fill out with daily growing power this fair temple of learning in which we are. Show yourselves worthy of it. ... Who shall set a limit to the power that goes forth from here those generations that so quickly pass out into the great English empire as a band of brothers ? Who shall stop it? It will grow and grow, and be a witness in all lands. When we look back a little and remember that a few years ago no language would have been thought too scornful to deride the possibility of what to-day is our reality, why should we doubt what is yet to come ? Why should the prophecy of the little that remains be thought a vain dream the prophecy that a few years yet onwards, and by God's blessing, when men think of their youth, and talk one with another of truth and honour and steadfast work, the name of the school shall rise readily to their lips, and deeds of patient endurance and a character hardly won for quiet, unassuming trustworthiness, shall fill with honest pride the hearts of those who then shall be able to say, " and I too was at Uppingham. Nothing is too great for the power of truth." August 2^th. Yesterday, to my great surprise, I received a letter from my dear father, saying it had occurred to him I might have a balance against me at my banker's, in conse- quence of the setting the school on foot with so many masters, and that if so he would help me to the uttermost of his power. I do feel it such a blessing to see his love thus coming out now he is so aged, and I have so prayed to be delivered from debt, and also to have my father's and mother's love and sympathy in this matter. I have written a letter expressing my great gratitude, stating that it is not a necessity, but would be an immense relief and sunshine to me, but that if it cannot be given in trust in the blessing that has been on the work here I could not take it. I have borne testimony to the i86s EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 125 motives which God put into my heart to begin this work with, that I cannot repent of it, and that they must not help me under false motives in this, and I have tried to show how much I loved and honoured them. . . . I do so love and honour my father and mother, and yet have had a life so different that it was difficult in any way to meet on any common ground. Now at last may God bless this and put it into our hearts to have this union. But God be praised for the letter itself, even if nothing more comes of it. August $oth. God be praised for Sundays. I have had a little time to-day to collect my thoughts, and feel my heart strengthened by recalling great realities of God and truth, and what life really is, instead of standing at bay against incessant work and no less incessant care, till I can think of nothing else. August $ist, A letter from T to-day full of congratu- lations about my having been practically offered Charter-house in the holidays, which evidently pleased my father much. . . . I felt particular satisfaction in my father and mother caring for this, to me, very trifling event. It is valuable as serving some- what as a stepping-stone to them to arrive at what is going on here and the importance of the work. September ist. Much comforted by a letter from my mother. My father was greatly pleased with my letter, and will send me a present of ;ioo, and if I wish it will apply to his trustees to let me have some capital. My dear father, what a great thing this is ! I do so rejoice at the pleasure my telling him about Charter-house gave them, and also at his being now satisfied with my work in spite of my not having made money. I would not for the world give him the trouble and anxiety of applying to his trustees. September loth. I have been dinning into the masters again the two great principles of constant communication with one another about teaching, but if not that, the paramount necessity of each master fastening tenaciously on common faults in class-work, and destroying them out of his class before dealing in the same way with others. October i^th. I heard to-day of the sad accident of old General Johnson. He has fallen down and seriously injured 01 broken his leg. The old man, however, when he found 126 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1864 this, would not rest till he had made Mrs. Johnson write at his dictation what he wished to be done at this audit, which he actually had intended to be at before this happened. All honour to the brave old man who has year by year from the very beginning done his best for the school and its improve- ments. Without him we should have been almost powerless, and the discouragement arising from the rest would have almost crushed us. October 27 th. Heard of General Johnson's death to-day. He has been a hearty, true friend, and worthy of all honour from us. What we should have done without him I don't know, with that cold and hostile phalanx of wishers of evil and prophesiers of evil trying to fulfil their own prophecies. But his presence and support cheered us in work, and gave us the means of expressing our opinion. Requiescat in pace. November $th, M reminded me to-day of our first beginning of the choir six boys in a little room behind the hall, and now the new schroolroom and half a hundred. How little the masters realise these things, or what it was to face the world then, to conceive the plan, and work it through ! How nothing but the immediate gift of God could have supplied the conception and the strength to work it. It is like a wonderful dream. November zg/A. Altogether to-night I feel more comforted by God than for a long time. How I smile at the feelings at the end of my curate time, when having fairly mastered my limited range of temptations by God's grace, I thought that nothing more could move me, so serenely it seemed could I face the great evils, as they are thought. And now I am like a reed. How absurd the judgment of man would be ! If my first I judged my second I what a calm pity he would bestow on the weaker character, when in reality I am a veteran in mind and soul endurance now compared with then. But such are circumstances and judgments. January $th, 1864. To-day I actually began to put in hand in a small way a book l on education which Dr. Beale started me up to doing in some degree, though it has flitted before my mind before. January i ^th. I certainly have been happier this holidays 1 Education and School. 1864 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 127 than I have been since I came here. . . . The sense of having got on a truer footing with my father and the family is very soothing. There is no more mean concealment, and my dear father has softened, and been able to trust me and feel for the work here. March 2yd. I made a statement of what had been done about the chapel, and proposed that those masters who choose should each be security for ^250, but not liable for any more. Five agreed to this as well as myself, and I have written to Burton accordingly with the absolute certainty now of being able to go on with the work. All passed off in the quietest way. April yd. The first proofs of my book came to-day. I wish it was well over. I am curiously drawn in different direc- tions. My lifelong feeling, my belief and wishes, as well as my personal desire for credit, all make me greatly interested in the book, whilst on the other hand, the fear of strife and criticism, and the longing to be undisturbed, all make me dread its coming out. I must say, though, on the whole, the interest greatly predominates. It seems to me such a doing battle for right, arid such a bringing out my life-work into the front ranks of this busy world. May God bless it. May i$tA. (Of his brother Godfrey.) Let not his faith in the truth of this work and Thy blessing be shaken. For in good and evil report he has believed in the wisdom of doing good here, and hoped against hope that the end would show who was right, and that blessing would be on honest work and self-sacrifice. I thank Thee, O God, for having given me the comfort of his faith. May 2yd. I was thinking this day what a fearful ten years I have spent here and am likely to spend seemingly, but strange to say, on honestly questioning my inner heart whether I would change this hard and bleeding life with its feelings and its truth for a softer one with less heart treasure gained, my heart boldly answered No ; boldly and decidedly took the pains, and let go the easier lot. I was myself astonished at the strength of the feeling. May 2t)th. This morning at 8.30 we signed the two deeds for the money for the chapel, and received ^1700. So now the chapel really is once more on foot I shall be very thankful to see it finished. 128 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1864 June %th. Gave out the praepostors' holiday this morning. Made a satisfactory speech. When they cheered at the an- nouncement I told them they might well cheer, as it embodied more than anything else our principle of life, that good was enjoyment and enjoyment good. Next we appealed to a national feeling of ambition, which was the same that made a man proud of his family or his country the ambition of being renowned for maintaining law and right, not for being traitors to it. That every half-year gave me less to say, and every half-year a true feeling that sneaking is sunk lower and lower in the school and reached lower strata. That we ought to care for the school as we do for our country. . . . We had not now to coin a character and a name, but we had a character and a name we ought to uphold and raise higher. It was easy comparatively to be renowned for university dis- tinction (though we were not as yet as we should be), but a character and name for truth and high tone was of slower growth, but lasting, belonging to all, not the work of a few. I trusted we should all strive so that no one should be ashamed of the name of Uppingham. These were the main topics. ... I hope this will tell. June z^th. In the morning Mr. S , a Manchester merchant, who has had a son here three years, but now leaving, came to me in the most feeling way, and said he felt it a simple duty to do what he could for the school, that all he could do was to give money, if I would but tell him how he could best dispose of it. I thanked him very much and asked him to consider, indeed I felt the manner of his acknowledgment deeply. At the recitation I saw him, and said I should like anything he gave to go to a general fund for carrying out our plans, if he would allow me to announce it. He at once gave ^"100, which I was accordingly able to give out in my speech ; he said, too, he hoped to give something again. This is a great light and encouragement, opening up a source of power which I trust will do much as time goes on, but above all cheering me immensely from the way in which it was done. August 2 is/. Little F , who has been here a year or so, on getting moved up into a higher class, rushed home after school to his house, knocked at the drawing-room door, and ran in, and finding Mrs. R - on the sofa, kissed her twice, 1864 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 129 and told her the good news. A touching little bit of school life. August $ist. Yesterday the match with Mr. Finch's eleven. I never saw our boys play worse, half of them don't try, and have no spirit. That annoys me. There is no doubt, I fear, that the hard, rough life we led at school, whilst very harmful in all the finer feeling, did in many instances produce vigour. October loth. Took leave of to-night. Am greatly pleased with him ; he has been an honest, manly fellow, and I am proud of his taking those feelings from the school. He said he could not do much in classics and work, but he hoped to represent the truth and manliness of the school, which was the great thing. I told him that indeed it was, and that I had as great an affection and respect for him on that account as if he could get the Balliol. October i^th. De Winton's report in; speaks highly of my division ; says Nettleship's Greek prose was the best of its kind he ever looked over. November \st. A splendid essay from Nettleship. I hope he and some of my pupils in years to come will play a great part in upholding God's truth. November 6th. Another boy entered yesterday. A great weight off my mind not having perpetual anxiety about entries. God be thanked for this. It is very cheering in reviewing the past to see and feel how purely an instrument 1 have been ; how all the good work has been His, and how invariably any mere human devices for good or evil have come to nothing. God's guiding hand bringing the things to pass. November i%th. I sent Nettleship off to Oxford this morning not without prayers on my part. ... I saw him last night and told him not to be too anxious ; that life was long and scholarships short, and that in one sense, and that the best, I really did not care whether he won or not, only let him continue to do his best. November z\st. A great day over a day of blessing, I hope. The bishop this morning confirmed 56 boys for us. The whole school attended, and the service was very quiet and impressive. The bishop gave a most earnest address to the boys, pressing on them with much power truths they have K 130 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1865 heard from us. I have been very comforted by the bishop's visit as well as Mr. Osborne's, who preached yesterday for us. For the first time something of the exceeding desolation and solitary feeling which has been so hard to bear has passed away, as now we are getting friendly help in the neighbourhood. The bishop said he should try with the Bishop of Oxford to get a private bill passed to enable us to consecrate our chapel ; only think of that ! I asked him to preach at the opening, and he has consented. In every way he is eager to help us, and he strikes me as genuine. November z^th. To-day most unexpectedly by the after- noon's post received the news that Nettleship had got the first Balliol scholarship. There were three to be given away. A most pleasant letter from Rawnsley giving some par- ticulars. November 27 th. The first Communion; about 120 boys attended, a happy scene of peace and trust. Recommended Nettleship's victory and myself to God. December $th. For the first time these eleven years the end of this half-year sees me with no great care, and able in some degree to be at ease. It is a strange feeling ; I keep expecting that something must come. Yet there is much debt still, but the school is so prosperous, and no draws now on my income coming, that my heart is fairly at rest. Neither is there any childish nonsense amongst the masters any more. The days of nursery rebellions seem past. December 2%th. This holiday for the first time now in eleven years, no great weight of care, danger, and pain is on me; God be praised. The first time. I feel so peaceful. The papers for the New Commission on Schools reached me on Saturday. Last night a sort of new world opened to me in my prayers as the conviction that to be humble, patient, and true was the highest earthly lot, came home to me in a way it had never done before. January itf/i, 1865. J. H. Green been here about building a 15 house. I put before him in the strongest possible way, that whilst I allowed him to do it I should not consider myself in the least tied as headmaster by his doing so, and if I ever had to sit in judgment on him as a master, 1865 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 131 should not let it have the slightest weight in my decisioa He must do it entirely on his own responsibility. February 2nd. I feel less a coward to-night, but awe- struck at the coming time ; yet how blessed is my home ! I do believe a happier home is not to be found. This is a great support. All the cares, however bitter or deadly, are outside. March $th. Life is certainly at very high pressure with me ; even in the holidays I am very little free. Many ties as well as want of money fetter my movements. My work has to be done with a thumb and finger ; my annoyances and distractions with a hand and three-quarters ; my pleasures to be taken by fits and snatches ; my bores by the daily bushel. I get quite puzzled as to the moral effect of all this. For self-conscious culture it is decidedly unfavourable, but how far the unconscious character is shaped for good whilst one thinks one is simply being banged about, is as unknown to the man himself as the same sort of thing must be to the wool which is flung in at one end of a machine, carded, torn, worried, washed, entangled, disentangled, pulled, squeezed, thumped in the darkness, and comes out cloth at the other end. I hope this is so. I feel in some sort it is, but I think I should like more time to ponder my ways, try and mend them, reflect and work. Incessant carding may be good, but it is certainly unpleasant. March i6th. The entry is getting wonderful, 14 already for Easter, and 18 for Midsummer. We shall be crammed. April \\th. To-night the quarter is virtually over, the happiest I have spent for these eleven years. Not that there, have not been many cares, but still I find the whole impression has been of happy work, no quarrelling, and no gnawing heartsore going on. I cannot help admitting that on the whole I have spent a happy time. April 2ist. The chapel is beginning to look finished. . . . Street was here to-day. He is evidently greatly pleased with his work here, both in the result and because I have trusted the whole management to him. I assured him I thought he had carried out my idea as near perfection as might be. ... It never seems to strike men that able workers who devote their lives to subjects ought to be trusted, and 132 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1865 produce better work if trusted. I am sure the having put the work unhesitatingly in Street's hands has had much to do with its great excellence. April 2$th. The audit day. Showed in numbers, 282, 274 boarders. A ist Balliol scholarship and the ist Trinity scholarship at Oxford. Not a word from any of them. . . . A schoolmaster never wants a slave in his triumphal car to tell him he is mortal. The school chapel, the outcome of six years of anxious thought and work, was consecrated on 27th April. May ist. (After speaking of the ceremonial and the speeches). ... A glorious day. . . . We have now cast behind us much of the petty annoyances of our earlier life here. Yet it was most curious to remark amidst the general admiration and high encomiums passed, the total ignorance of our real work, objects, hopes, and success. Curious and not encouraging. ... I can scarcely credit the having the chapel at last, and the escape from the hurry and discomfort of our unwelcome occupation of the church. Now a new epoch begins. Qe^ Sda. May ^oth. It is curious what idolatry of land and game there is in England. A man may be excellent, religious, genial, sympathising, anything, but if he is a landowner, and you have not tried him on land and game, you know nothing of him. . . . :< Scratch a squire" and you get to clay at once. August \6th. Took leave of the ; of the elder with pleasure and praise, of the younger with words of solemn warning on his half-hearted work and life. Clever, ambitious, and keenly alive to praise, he is too unstable and selfish to excel. August 2gth. Gave a holiday to the school on the occasion of reaching 300. Old boys' match. The school was beaten easily, but the team against us was very strong. ... A letter from C. E. Green to the E s in great glee ; he had bowled out the Rugby eleven for twenty-eight runs. He was the captain they sent the insolent message to, offering to send a house eleven to play us. This had stuck in his mind ever since, and now he had wiped it off. 1865 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 133 September \st. Got in my banking book to-day for the first time for many years without trembling and sickness of heart, though there is much arrears yet to bring up. ... September tfh. A memorable day. This morning I spoke very strongly to the school on the disgraceful affair on Friday, on impurity in word, thought, or deed, and lastly, on the fact that our liberties here and pleasant life depended on truth, and that whether they liked it or not, they must choose whether they would support us and the good amongst themselves or the felons. And then I cut off the holiday. I had not been long home when I heard a noise of voices in the passage, and found a deputation had come with our " Charter." I said at ten o'clock in the face of the school, when I should read it out and demand whether they would abide by it, and then they should claim, as I had promised, the remission of the punishment. The culprit, though, must be given up. So at ten o'clock they came. I read out each head, and asked to each, " Do you abide by this ? " and to each came back a full answer, "Yes, we do." Then I remitted the punishment, and spoke on the living power of such a profession of truth. It is a glorious thing. The most glorious thing that has ever happened in a school. Thank God for it. Now we have the whole school appealing to their love of truth as a charter, and the charter itself established in their minds as the deliverer from shame and punishment It is a glorious thing, a happy, memorable day. September ^th. . . . To-day the masters played the school. I got a o, and 37 was our whole score, but we rather collared them after, and got them all out for 87. It was good fun. It is a wonderful proof of our substantial unity thai masters and boys can thus contend as two sides. It is something to be able to play with them, but far beyond that, to be able to play against them. ... I do feel so happy in the state of the school, its public profession of faith. It makes me feel so among friends, and that God has blessed it. October 2nd. Heard to-day of poor Blyth's death. He begged to be remembered to me in his last hours. One of the greatest comforts I have felt in the trying work here has been the feeling of union hereafter with our dead. Not tearing to see them in that other world, but longing rather to 134 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1865 be there with them. Will they not meet us? and be our teachers in the new glories which they first have entered on ? Surely hereafter we shall be full of happy communion. October tfh. The school is quite full. I rilled the last vacancy to-day. And yet such is common success that I almost forgot to note this great external fact. October yth. I am quite getting back my old elastic working power now the awful strain of anxiety and jaw is gone. I am reading Casar and Chaucer, besides writing exercises occasionally, and can really take interest in the actual work, as I am not overwhelmed by other cares and heart-tearings. . . . October \zth. A sad day for one thing. Baverstock, my old and valued friend, has sent in his resignation and goes at Christmas. Though long expected, like all long-expected things, it has come suddenly at last, this, the first break in the band of true workers here. It is like cutting off a piece of myself, warning me, too, for it is really death that is separating us, that I too am drawing nearer to my goal, one more of my generation passing, not prematurely, but in his appointed time, a friend of my youth departing. O God, have mercy and help us in Thy hand. It is a great grief. October zoth. To-day I filled up the last vacancy in my house for next October, this time year. When I remember the event every application used to be, it is like a dream. November ^rd. Preached yesterday on almsgiving. The offertory in the morning most unsatisfactory from the little given by the masters. How men expect boys to give liberally when they don't I can't understand. I had the gratification, though, of sending ^60 to India, the first worthy offering as a school we have made. I trust it will be a great living power in the school, as boys see the reality of the help they can give. November \zth. A glorious day, like King Josiah's passover; at least 160 voluntary communicants from the school, a most thrilling sight and service. Thank God. All went off well yesterday ; 80 confirmed. The bishop made two good addresses, and the boys looked very nice. Two hard days over. . . . Have had a summons to London on Tuesday to be examined by the Schools' Committee. I detest 1866 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 135 it. My work is broken in on, which I hate. I hate the travel- ling. I don't believe in committees. To be sure they assume they wish to know, but then one is to have the work and harvest of a toilsome life curiously handled and appraised by a wise, authoritative inexperience. . . . What a fool I am, too, to be making grievances and drawing ink sketches on the evening of this glorious day of hopes fulfilled, and grace given, and assured blessing. November i$th. Back from London, on the whole immensely gratified with my examination. All the main points and principles I care for were well brought out November i6tA. A perpetual feeling of a new world rolling into sight for schools, and of our work here being sanctified and blessed beyond my dreams, so strange does it seem to my mind to find my long-cherished scheme for English schools going to be brought into Parliament and pushed with power. November 2$th. My birthday, 44 years old. ... A busy day in various ways. The boys of my house gave me two very handsome volumes as a birthday present. I have thanked them, telling them my true reward will be in their lives, in their true work, in their honest devotion to the cause in which I have staked so much. Gave out the praepostors' prize this morning. Made a speech, expressing my conviction of the progress of true principles in the school, that they get wider and deeper, and that though I suppose we must have fools and beasts sometimes, that they are less and less worshipped, that there is less " donkey worship." I gradually got my speech round to this phrase, and I think have settled for a season the mock heroes. . . . December zgth. I have been engaged, and am still, in carving four medallions, likenesses of the children, for M 's workbox. They promise well. I quite accidentally discovered I might be able to do it owing to having wasted some work on a bit of wood I then found out had been broken, and whilst the other bit was getting ready, trying a profile of Margaret on it with some success. March 2$th, 1866. I am reading Mendelssohn's Letters, a noble book which has done me much good. I feel very nerved for work, and in much better order than I did. I must cast 136 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1867 all personalities, all things out of my mind and heart, but the cause, and the cause as in Christ's hands, in faith and hope, but not anxious or down-hearted come what may. June $th. Life is beginning to be very happy with me ; God seems to be all around me in blessing, blessing work and blessing rest, and giving wisdom and new fresh thoughts. June igth. The impression made by Nettleship at Oxford seems very great indeed, quite extraordinary. I can well believe it, as his knowledge, thoughtfulness, and receptive humility are very striking. Thank God for letting me see this first. August i ith. The Bishop of Brisbane here, and gave us a most excellent lecture to-night on missions in Australia. It will quite bring new life and ideas into the school. I am very thankful for it. He proposed that the school should build a parsonage house at a poor station he named. I hope we may do it, but we have got much good, that we cannot help having done. September 2nd. Looked over my banking account yester- day. Thank God for His goodness. For the first time in many years there is a balance in my favour after payment of all my debts, excepting the ;i6oo advanced by my father years ago. Thank God. I wish to give one year's clear profits as a thank-offering with Marie's consent. I have spoken to her about it January 17^, 1867. A fearful ice accident yesterday in the Regent's Park. Some thirty or forty people drowned ; the numbers not known yet. Among them poor Woodhouse, one of our boys a good fellow. It is a great reward for true work, or trying to work truly, the not being afraid to think of those who have departed from us, but being comforted rather. . . . February gf/i. Had a letter from Mitchinson this morning with a scheme for a union amongst the better grammar schools for a joint annual school tripos, as it were. I see it won't act, and I don't want in the present state of school politics and knowledge to get mixed up with any party or movement. But I do not mean either to throw cold water on the thing. I shall go quietly to work. March 24^. Skrine has won a Corpus. A very nice 1867 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 137 letter from Conington this morning giving me an account of his performance His translation was "exceptionally good." There were fifty-seven candidates, and the excellence of them beyond all preceding years. This is pleasant.' March $oth, The welcome telegram to-day that Lewis Nettleship has won the Ireland. This is glorious. To-day I really felt a happiness in results. Before it has been rather a sense of deliverance, of drawing breath with a danger passed, blessed and greatly needed, but too serious for enjoyment. To-day I felt a rest and enjoyment as well ; for these successes quite put us in the first ranks of winners. God has rolled away the reproach from me, and I feel at the right time. . . . It will please my old father, too, so much, and dear mother. I hope my letter will give them the first news, as it is Sunday to-morrow and no newspapers. How many great things have happened to me on Saturday and Sunday. It is a thing I love to think of, then I can thank God better. I do thank Thee, O God. The race is not to the swift nor the battle to the strong ; that I feel and know, as years have brought wisdom, and I rejoice to feel and know it. ... It is so hard to remain simple and untarnished. There is a certain surface power in beginning that when one has penetrated through the crust in life work and sees the weakness and iniquity of one's own heart, as well as the strong powers against good, that seem utterly to break down and leave one like a creature with its shell changing, soft and feeble and defenceless, the old gone and the new not come. Yet it is not so, the invisible has come, but it is hard to be sure of it, hard to let go the visible, hard and a thing of time to walk with God. But I will not fear. April \st. Made a very strong and I think good speech to the school this morning (apropos to some fool or fools having defaced the notices of their own Game Committees), on the want of law and honour in the school, and what really made a great school, clenching it with giving out Nettleship's great triumph, and telling them it was worthless compared with the individual truth and love of law and good of the boys, by which the meanest amongst them in age or rank added to, or diminished from the character of the school and its true glory. I trust this fortunate coincidence of Nettleship's 138 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1867 splendid feat just when I wanted to pitch into them aboul their mean, disorderly doings will add weight to what I said. April loM. There has been a great controversy about the championship, in which I have acted as arbiter and legal adviser of the Games Committee, and all the parties concerned are pleased and satisfied at the unravelling of the tangle and final decision. It is curious, but I have no doubt this power of getting to the inner boy life, and their trust in me in matters of this sort, is more potent for real good here than all the rest of my work almost put together. April \\th. A nicely-written paragraph in the Guardian about Nettleship and our success, just what should be said if it was said, probably by W , but I wish they would let matters alone, and not stick things into the papers. As long as fame meant bread and escape from ruin it was different, but now it doesn't ; the less we are noticed the better. Those who care will know, but the praise and glitter of popular fame is a great snare and drawback to true work, particularly among boys. They are too apt to be led by what people say, and to look away from true unconscious work into a glittering mirror of distorted self. September i oth. Walked out with Anstey and Rawnsley in the afternoon. The former asked me point blank whether I was satisfied with the school according to my theories. I answered on the whole " yes," very decidedly, and then went into the petty causes which somewhat interfered with a more perfect result, and explained pretty fully how things went on. November 2&th. To-day I have authorised Street to take the tenders for our beautiful west gallery, ^641, i6s. Field, of London, is the contractor. Our appeal for money is going on well as yet compared with the former one. I shall be so glad to get a finished bit of ornamental work in the chapel. December ist. The Holy Communion. About 135 present and 25 went out; a glorious sight, make whatever deductions can be made. Yesternight two boys came in to me to ask advice how to settle a bad boy in their house, and uphold morality and right. This is very cheering. They tell me to-day they think they can manage it. December yth. My home and work have become very happy. In spite of much toil and surface vexation, inseparable 1868 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 139 some of it from a schoolmaster's life, some of it a speciality of this county, life has ripened into a very happy lot. My heart feels at peace, and all the crushing care and bitterness has been succeeded by a calm of completed tasks and blessings vouchsafed on them. December 2$th. A happy day on the whole, beginning with a very complimentary letter from Dr. Craik, who has been Moderator of the General Assembly in Scotland, on my book. As I know nothing in the world about him this was pleasant. Then I put up the beautiful engraving of Holman Hunt's "Finding in the Temple," and very beautiful it is. Wrote on the back that the signatures are autographs. January 22nd, 1868. A most gratifying letter from Lewis Nettleship, speaking very confidentially to me about his views, and opening out his heart ; giving me at the same time very warm thanks for what I had been to him in religious matters, which is an inexpressible comfort to me. February 26th. A beautiful day, and a day to me of much blessing. First of all I actually sent off the real last proof of my Grammar. I am so glad. Best of all I walked out with Anstey, and in the nicest way he offered ^100 to the chapel, and, on my expressing the wish, allowed me to divert it to the garden. So that will be begun at once. I shall, however, again ask him to-morrow whether he had not really rather devote it to the chapel. In any case I feel cheered and blessed. . . . March \st. Heard from Witts to-day that the report of the Commissioners has come out, that there was an abstract of it in the newspaper. So in a day or two I shall have it. I am rather curious to see it, but do not expect much. " Put not your trust in princes," especially in parliamentary princes, who have to look after themselves and their own balance a great deal too much. Still it is another step in the education question. If I could but feel my heart sounder and purer I should not mind anything else, but it is hard to keep calm and work with depth and fervour when half one's work is gnat catching. Hard, too, to be faithful when one sees the silly way conceited men and boys walk by their life-work with their noses in the air, and sip and spill and abuse the water bought for them, like that for David, with very life blood. uo LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1868 Yet it ought not to be hard. It is just what Christ sees us do, and yet He loves and helps us. March 2th, I was very pleased to hear to-day that Little, Earle, and Cornish start the subscription for the Old Boy window with ;ioo. This makes it certain that we shall be able to order it, as they will, I doubt not, get ^200 more, and by the time it is up be able to get the rest. This, with Anstey's donation, quite puts me in heart. It seems that the sacrifices made bear some fruit even in that way. . . . June i6th. My Scotchmen (Fettes Trustees) came to-day and I took them over the school, and showed them everything, and let a great deal of light into their proceedings, I think. They had been going about with no principle to guide them, and I gave them one. . . . What will come of it I know not, but some good, some more method in their proceedings certainly. I could not help contrasting in my heart their ^100,000 to spend in building, and their desire to do it welli with my own governors and their antagonism. August i6th. The school quite full; actually no room to take any more. Hodgkinson over thirty. August 2\st, Just now Miles came in to speak to me about his boy and his work, and I had a very interesting talk with him. He is a good fellow. I set before him that he must vividly impress the ethics of education. First, that it is valuable ; secondly, that each boy can certainly get it ; that the denial of these propositions, the worst evil the neglect of the great schools has brought on England, was at the root of most non-learning. Also that an idle, obstinate boy is a problem for an able man to master ; the worse the material the greater the skill in working it, and that he must not be baffled. October $th. During the last two or three years the constant recurrence of petty offences, without being able to fasten them on the school at large, whilst at the same time it was clear that the total absence of a common spirit was the real cause, has been inexpressibly trying. I have felt more and more that the old school feeling one strove for so long and under such difficulties was gradually slipping away, passing into air, and yet that there was no way to get at it and stop it All one said seemed empty sound, but now at last I have an occasion which the school feels, which I can punish heavily, 1 869 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 141 and which makes it natural and fitting to speak strongly and enter into full explanation. October 1 2th. I had a letter from Stogdon at Haileybury yesterday which I have made do right good service. He spoke of the keenness of the Haileybury sixth form for work. I just read it out to my class, and asked them each how far they recognised Uppingham in such a statement. I believe I really have stirred them up very much at last. I ought to have done so ; their dead-alive ways, with one foot in their work and the other in their own fancies, and head and body lolling between the two, are quite insufferable. October 2gth. The special offertory on Sunday for Australia was ^20. This was really very good. Another cheering fact. February 15^, 1869. Certainly the comparative freedom from care is a great boon. Happy the kingdom that has no history. 310 boys in the upper school, 45 in the lower ; quite full February 2ist. This morning the draft of the bill to be introduced into Parliament about schools came. It stirs up my thoughts. I had some idea of writing a letter to Beresford Hope, the Cambridge member, who sent it, but on second thoughts shall do nothing. But this keeps one anxious and expectant. I have no fears for ourselves. We can scarcely help being gainers, but it may bring me a great deal of awkward work and temptation and worry, and I have little hope on the whole question, which is sad and trying. April 2oth. It is flattering that whenever there is any talk of great schools under this bill, from whatever quarter, Uppingham is mentioned in the van. May isf. The day before yesterday we settled to buy an acre of land and set about our hospital immediately, and also to buy the two acres next at ^250 per acre. It is the only building land very convenient to us left, so I am well pleased. I have felt happy and strong to-day in spirit. I thank God with all my heart for His great goodness to us. May 26th. A capital letter from Mr. Johnson, ready to work heartily with me, acknowledging to the full the position of the school. ... I have written again to say I think we shall have little difficulty, and that the better men of the governors will be ready to join us, but if not, that it will not hurt 142 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1869 September \oth. This day sixteen years ago I first came to Uppingham as master, having never visited it till two days before, when I went back to Cookham Dene to pack up some books and come. What a wondrous change ! September 22nd. Have begun German again seriously, and hope to get on. Have written to the bishop to thank him, and ask for a confirmation in the spring. . . . Masters satis- fied with my scheme for the school. This is good also. September 2yd. Heard from Alington to-day that he has written to accept our missionary post in London under Mr. Boyd at the Victoria Docks. An excellent thing for us ; I hope good for him. September 2ith. This morning I spoke to the school on almsgiving, and announced to them that the arrangements about our mission were completed, and that Wynford Alington had accepted it. October <)th. I feel so much being in health. It is wonderful. I cannot think I am so old as I am when the refreshment of this new health is with me All is well in work, except that I feel troubled in heart somewhat at my own feelings.. The work interests me so much less. I do not feel that deep inward hold upon it, and it on me, that I used to. I always said I must stick to this as long as I had work left in me, and I blamed men who left their spheres, but now the temptation gets very great. I long so at last to have a home, not to be for ever with boys in the house, and all the responsibility, unrest, and wretchfulness of this life upon me. . . . Yet if this longing is wrong, God grant I may not give way to it. I pray I may do right. I would fain work His will. October \$th. I am ashamed to say how very lonely and perturbed I feel to-night. ... A deep sense of weakness and danger comes over me as I feel my lonely, solitary stand in this land of exile, and on the other side the Commissioners with all their undefined powers and undefined principles ; what is defined, their non-religious character and their very definite yielding to popular cries for some subjects, etc., definitely against me. "I can only lift my eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help." November ith. . . . The week altogether has been a 1869 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 143 week ot strength and courage to me. My heart rises and 1 feel upheld, quiet and clear, and close to God. November zvth, Rather downhearted. The work, possibly, which is very constant and hard, and the double wound to my vanity and beliefs about my book, have brought home to me very closely how utterly I am without hope of really over- coming the gigantic confederacy of power, prestige, money, and ignorance, all so deeply pledged against truth in schools. As often as this gets pressed home, the work becomes more galling, and all the petty vexations, real and imaginary, swarm like flies. God knows how many hours of my life are passed in thinking over the situation of the school, and guarding in imagination against attack, and shaping my course in case things go wrong. Too many, I fear. ... It is hard to work on without any hope of the good cause conquering in England, with at best, as far as that is concerned, a faint idea of improvement in some of the more outrageous defects. Still on the side of comfort I feel God is with me. I feel He has allowed me to succeed in showing truth. I feel still more that He has given me to breathe it into living hearts, and to light a quenchless flame ; though where and how that flame will blaze up is hidden from me. This ought to be more than enough, and in the depths of my heart is, but, such is man, my surface daily temper and feeling sometimes feel little or nothing of this strong inward comfort beyond barren know- ledge that it is there. December $th. I have been reading Bishop Hamilton's life. He was a noble fellow. It has done me good, I hope. May God give me grace to wish for nothing but a true heart and a true work. We may pause here to take account of what had already been accomplished. In the years which had elapsed since Thring took the school in 1853 it had been lifted in point of numbers and reputation from the position of a small county grammar school into an acknowledged position among the best of the ancient English public schools. The twenty-five pupils with which he began had increased to more than three 144 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1869 hundred. Houses for boarders had been established in sufficient numbers, each adapted to carry out the principles which Thring believed essential for the right training of boy life. A noble chapel had been built as a centre for the common religious life of the school. A schoolroom large enough to hold the whole body on public occasions furnished sufficient opportunity for common life in other things. A lower school had been founded as an adjunct to the larger establish- ment. All the ordinary equipment for games and recreation usual in the best public schools had been secured, and to these a gymnasium, then a new feature in English schools, had been added. A carpentry, also the first of its kind in a public school, gave plea- sant employment and some degree of manual instruc- tion to boys with a turn in that direction. Music was cultivated as it had never been cultivated in any English public school before. These were the chief external facts. A resolute will and a clear purpose had enabled him to accomplish in a few years what in other schools had been the slow growth of many generations, or if more speedy, the result of splendid endowment. A will no less resolute and a purpose equally clear were required to deal with other and more public sides of his school life. CHAPTER VI SCHOOL COMMISSIONS THE main constructive work at Uppingham was barely completed, when Thring was forced to enter upon a prolonged and anxious contest to save from overthrow some of the fundamental principles on which it had been founded, and on which his educational beliefs were based. He had been deeply interested in the appointment of a School Commission in 1865, and when summoned before it, had stated fully his views on school structure and the best methods of developing the smaller endowed schools. His reception by the Commissioners had been very friendly, and he had been led to hope that their report would at least embody the gist of these views. They were not even referred to, but instead, he found what he calls "a great indirect glorification of the old and new shams." As the report is now known to have been chiefly the work of a distinguished headmaster of one of the very schools which Thring rejected absolutely as offering a standard for school structure, his disappointment can easily be accounted for. Of the Commission generally, he says : How ridiculous it will seem in years to come appointing L 146 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1869 a lot of squires and a stray lord or two to gather promiscuous evidence on an intricate professional question, and sum up, and pronounce infallible judgment on it. However, this is the English panacea now this witches' caldron and small hopes it gives. I do not feel downcast. God has helped us in spite of " princes " all along, and will do so, but it vexes and mortifies, and makes the future look very dark, and the present feel very cold. However, the work goes on ; that is not stopped. If Christ accepts that, what signifies the rest ? If I can feel this, what signifies the rest ? And I do in part feel it What he had hoped for from the Commission is shown in a letter to his friend the headmaster of Sherborne, who had suggested that an appeal should be made for new schemes on which to govern their schools. To REV. H. D. HARPER. January iSfh, 1869. I could not answer your letter before as I was absent from home, and only returned on Saturday. The report of the Commissioners was " a very heavy blow and great discouragement," but I do not see my way to action. Indeed, the heaviest blow, it appears to me, education could have received. I made quite certain that the question, " What constitutes a good school ? " must be raised. I was not hopeful, far from it, but I thought a Commission with so general a scope, examining all kinds of schools, could not help somewhat discerning, whether right or wrong in its views, the meaning of the word " School." And if this was done, attention at least would be excited, and this would be a gain. Alas ! even this very modest hope was found false. The Commissioners have not raised the question at all, but have tacitly assumed that certain schools not within their province of inspection are models, and that all the schools that fell within their net need only be like them. . . . There is no standard to appeal to. What great school, even in theory, has faced the problem of teaching and training each boy in the best way, with all the constructive skill and machinery involved in that problem ? i86g SCHOOL COMMISSIONS 147 For my part I desire to separate my lot entirely from the fashionable schools, and to cast it in, come weal come woe, with the earnest working men, and smaller schools, which one may hope to see doing honest work. But then the standard to refer to should be, " What work is each school intended to do ? " and next, " What tools has it for doing this honestly ? " Up to a certain point, and a high point too, the mere dead construction, the brick and mortar situation, etc., are every- thing. We don't want the governors to give us their old lumbering seventy-fours, or still worse their cheap imitations of them, as the models for our new steam fleet. But what is to be done? I confess I don't see. We have not got to the threshold of the inquiry ; what teaching really means and what training really means and what a school to teach and train each boy really means. Our authorities, to which the appeal must be made, have finished before they have started. I cannot make an appeal under such circumstances. It is a real fact that England is ringing with discordant cries and omniscient prodigality of suggestions as to what subjects should or should not be taught ; this is to be changed that introduced ; whereas any experienced man, I am sure you will agree with me, must cry, " For God's sake teach anything, only ensure that your great schools by their construction do not prevent true teaching, and afterwards it will be time enough to discuss subjects." Subjects can be changed at any time, new ones brought in, old ones cast out or recalled, but when thousands of pounds have been spent on wrong' principles of construction, and costly and sometimes beautiful buildings put up which, nevertheless, are second, third, fourth, or fifth rate in work and efficiency a yoke that cannot be shaken off that is a very different matter. I have entered into this matter at greater length than I should otherwise have done, as I thought it necessary to explain why I cannot see my way to any action as long as there is no standard of truth to refer to, though I feel the report of the Commissioners to be the most disastrous, as it is the most unexpected reverse that the cause of true work has received or can receive. 148 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1869 Mr. Walter, of the Times, an Eton contemporary and acquaintance, who was now watching from his place in Parliament the progress of the Endowed Schools Act, had written to ask his opinion on certain points in the proposed bill. In the concluding sentences of his reply Thring lays stress upon the same vital points already referred to. To JOHN WALTER, ESQ., M.P. ... I, and many with me, I believe, feel sure that all the requirements of a good school, the machinery without which true work is impossible, are most definite, and can be stated in each case with great certainty. So if we are right, the Government is going to plunge into the great work of reconstructing all education without any fixed principle to guide them, up to their eyes in conflicting evidence, and in total ignorance of what is desirable or practicable under given conditions ; with no ground secure to begin from, and seemingly in a state of utter confusion between the very different subjects of what is to be taught and what is necessary before you can teach anything. But this want of principle makes it impossible to feel any interest except fear in these great measures, as we do not see how any real part can be taken in a work of this kind till the preliminary question, " how each boy can be trained in the best and most certain way, given the price that can be paid " is decided. It seems to me people must know what they want before there is much chance of getting it, and that to set about making a thing before there is any settled idea what the thing to be made is, in any case is strange, but in the case of legislators who are not professionally engaged in the work and conversant with details, impossible. . . . Thring's real anxieties began when, as a result of the Report of the first Commission, the Endowed Schools Act of 1869 was carried through Parliament, and provided for the appointment of Commissioners 1869 SCHOOL COMMISSIONS 149 empowered to undertake the reconstitution of ancient trusts and foundations. These Commissioners soon turned their attention to Uppingham. Their right to deal absolutely with the school and its resources was more manifest in law than in equity. Because the new foundation of Thring's creation, already with more than ; 10,000 of yearly income, to be much increased later, had grown up from an old foundation which produced barely 1000, the whole was treated as subject to the jurisdiction of the Commissioners. Thring had always dreaded the hand of external power applied to life-work ; he now saw it preparing to deal with all that he deemed most vital in his school. December 2<)th. Once more the war has begun. This morning I received a short kindly letter from Roby, the secre- tary to the Commissioners, drawing my attention to the fact unofficially that he could see nothing in our statutes to make this school an exception to the clauses which are to unchurch schools. Little words which I have long been fearing and expecting. I wrote back unofficially, that if the having been founded by a country clergyman in post-Reformation times, and on the strength of that my having refounded the school in these sixteen years, did not constitute a claim to be a Church school, when this was clear and all other remedies failed, I should put my resignation into the hands of the C< m- missioners, but that it would be a hard return for seventeen years of such work as I have spent here to drive me out And I did not think it would encourage either education or freedom. But the bigotry of the Liberals is unspeakable, and unjust as it would be, I am not at all sure that I shall prevail against them. Truly it is hard, but I am thankful to say I feel strong in heart and health and not cast down. I thank God for that Between the governors and the Government, with their lust for power, life gets rather squeezed into a corner, and a thorny corner too. December $oth. It is marvellous how step by step life 150 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1869 moves on, and before one knows how or why, some great irre- vocable event has come, gone, perhaps, and a long vista of doubt and difficulty opens. . . . To H. J. ROBY. December zgth, 1869. You raise one vital point in your letter : the question of whether this is to be a Church school as heretofore, or not. I will be candid on this also. The fact that the school was founded by a country clergy- man in post-Reformation times, with 18 out of 22 governors appointed by himself, clergymen, and that till within this century [the Church's] prayers have been said from that time to this does mark the foundation distinctly to be a Church foundation. I saw this clearly when I came here, and on the faith of this made my plans. I can testify most solemnly that my sole motive (if that can be called a sole motive the absence of which would have made every other null and void) was to do a work here for Christ, by which I am bigot enough to mean the Church of Christ as now existing in this kingdom, whether it is to be disestablished or not. I believe in no other permanent fountain of good. The school as it now works is entirely the result of this belief. If this refounding is to be overridden, as well as the original founding of the school by a clergyman, the Government is bound to give us back our chapel and schoolroom which we gave them, and let us start for ourselves. If they will not do this, and no regard is had to those who founded this school either in past or present times, and all remedy fails, I have counted the cost, and shall at once, as soon as that is clear, place my resignation in the hands of the Commissioners, and leave them to find some one else to carry out their will and the will of the Government. ... I have for some time been prepared to hear what you told me, and have calmly made up my mind in quiet beforehand, when unbiassed by discussion or excitement. To THE SAME. No date. You may well think, without my saying more, 1869 SCHOOL COMMISSIONS 151 how little anxious I am to run my head against a wall if I can help it. Still more, I fully believe much good is meant to education, and personally I am anxious to throw no obstacle in the way, or to make the very responsible work of the Commissioners more laborious. I wish in every way I can to help, not to oppose ; I can sincerely say this. Neither have I any fears for the present, nor do I wish to bind the future in any absurd way. I am quite willing to face the axiom of modern politics that " the weaker must go to the wall." You will ask, then, what I do mean, and on what point I am fool enough to stake my all once more. Simply on this point, " that the thorough Church of England character of the work here (established or disestablished) be fully recognised now." That a record be made that the present school rose on this faith, and on the faith that a post-Reformation basis of opera- tions set going by a country clergyman would be a guarantee against any common changes of religious kinds. If this is distinctly laid down, and this choice clearly put before men's minds, then if any after generation chooses to undo the work, alienate, confiscate, plough up, or anything they like, let them. I don't want even to try and stop them. But let them know what they destroy or change. Provided this kind of statement is put clearly I do not care whether it has any legal value or not. I quite agree with you on the difficulty there would be in practically unchurching a school like this, and if that was all I should not care to contest the question, neither shall I resist any clause or clauses which provides for this kind of evOavao-ta. If it is to die let it die. But I myself fully think that at no distant period a complete upheaval and readjust- ment of all English polity is at hand, and I wish in that hour of change and violence to have the generation know distinctly what Uppingham belonged to; after that let them do what they like. This then is where I take my stand. ... Of course if the present reform falls into the old groove, in which founders sinned, of making non-workers powerful, not giving the workers liberty, and tying dead weights round their necks, by degrees the life will go out of the new channels as it has done in so many cases from the old, but that is not my concern. I heartily wish in all things I can to forward the present reforms. 152 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1870 January ii/, 1870. A kind letter from Lyttelton 1 to-day improving my position immensely, complaining of my viewing the Commissioners as "natural enemies," which enabled me to put out quietly my real views, and to show him a little of the inner life of things, and how serious a matter this legislation is to working men. Yet I daresay my definite, clear views of the subject expose me to much misapprehension, and that men think I am simply cantankerous when I see great prin- ciples at stake and a blind dealing with them. One thing certainly vexes me, the cool way these governing men with their positions above the working conflict come down as di ex machinis, quite unconscious of the intense interest these frog pattings have for the frogs and of their own ignorance of frog life. I see how impossible it is for a Government like ours to promote good except by stopping evil. How dangerous it is to meddle with liberty and work ! . . . To LORD LYTTELTON. No date. Pray forgive me if my letters have seemed to you to breathe irritation. I can assure you it is nothing of the kind, but, as far as it is anything, simple fear. If you will have patience with me I will explain a little the situation I am in ; perhaps then you will look on my proceedings as, at least, not unnatural. . . . Sixteen years ago I came here and found a good basis, but only 25 boys, and no machinery for educating them all up to the university point, which I was compelled to do. I will say nothing of the deadly struggle, protracted for years, which fell to my lot when I faced this difficulty. Conceive what it has been during sixteen years to meet toil and danger of every kind ; then at the end of that time, just when Uppingham itself as a school was secure, its machinery complete, its whole theory and practice in thorough working order, and I was gaining a little health and strength which had suffered seriously in the long effort, all at once I find the school and myself thrown out of their quiet onward movement into a great commotion of external power. I found in fact my fife, with the best part of it gone, absolutely at the mercy of Parliament and this bill. 1 Lord Lyttelton had been an old Eton friend of Thring's. 1870 SCHOOL COMMISSIONS 153 You chaff me for calling myself old ; in your sense, of course, I am not old, yet even in your sense I was two years ago so used up that I doubted if ever I should be well again, and at that time was in fact thoroughly old. Now, thank God, I am not. Yet I am old to begin life again, which was what I said, and to leave my harvest of all kinds for a fresh sowing on new ground. You will probably before this, as you saw the first, have seen my yesterday's letter to Roby, which goes fully into the question which would make me do that. But I feel sure now there will be no need. Yet if there was, so far from thinking "the game up," or being hasty, I should do it in the firm conviction that if I lived I should be able to raise another Uppingham on a thorough basis of independent work for Christ's Church. As to haste, I have seen the crux coming on for months, and have never done anything in my life with greater deliberation. Indeed, a man who has spent the life of daily care and foresight I have done here never acts in haste. . . What would you feel if you stood alone as I do here, at seeing all you cared for once more at stake ? And permit me to add without any real clue to what is coming. For neither the Commission nor Parliament has as yet entered on the great trade question, of how the trade of school -keeping can be carried on so as to give to each boy in every school a fair chance. This is what I have lived for the Government has not noticed it. They are busy about what subjects are to be taught before they have secured that any subject shall be taught to every boy, or any training be given to every boy. The great schools which fill the public eye, and are the most grievous sinners against this cardinal ABC of the alphabet of education, are only too glad to discuss subjects and escape investigation of machinery. Now my whole life, work, and convictions are bound up in this trade question which at Uppingham we have dealt with and settled. I have no fortune to fall back on, nothing but my work and my life. Would it not be a matter of intense interest to you if you saw a great external power under such circumstances a power able to crush you utterly advancing slowly on your life ? advancing on great trade questions without the personal experience of trade, and with the great authorities on such subjects the worst offenders ? This you know is my belief, 154 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1870 whether I am right or wrong. Can you wonder at my having been afraid ? Can you wonder, I may now add, at the relief your kind letter has brought me this New Year's morning? A happy omen. I can assure you from my heart, what I think you are now able to believe, that I am not in a state of irritable feeling, but as far as I now fear, calmly anxious ; very much more, however, hopeful and cheery; most of all eager and glad to do everything in my power to forward the good work you are engaged in ; both in public and private ready to spare no pains to make it easier. . . . There is no fear that you shall accuse me a^ain of even seeming to look on you as " natural enemies." To THE SAME. No date. No doubt the question of private property turns up in innumerable instances in connection with foundations. Nevertheless I have the strongest reason for believing that I am not mistaken in my view of Uppingham. Other schools have, as they grew and it became possible to do so, employed private property gradually, and when any large sum has been thus invested the expenditure has been spread over several generations, and most of the original contributors are in their graves. But Uppingham is an instance of a special school system, based on most distinct principles, being begun when a school was at its lowest ebb, carried out steadily through adversity and prosperity, till all the educational work has practically become quite independent of any necessity of foundation aid, though for reasons other than pecuniary such aid seems to me very important. This work, too, has been done in one generation, and the men still live whose property and lives have been thus contri- buted to the work, when most unexpectedly Government steps forward to deal with the question. In the last sixteen years I have paid much attention to these questions, and I believe I am correct in asserting that there is no other instance where this same process has been carried through, and especially in the two facts of the amount thus invested in our generation, and that the contributors are alive the case of Uppingham is peculiar among foundation schools. 1872 SCHOOL COMMISSIONS 155 It was not so much intentional tyranny on the part of the Commissioners that he had to fear as their ignorance of the principles involved, or indifference to them. An internal danger was added. Assistant masters would be tempted, in any reconstruction of the trust, to seek better terms for themselves at the expense of the principles which he most valued. This could most easily be done by getting the restriction on the numbers in a single house removed. After seeking advice on all sides from the gover- nors, from Thring himself, who gladly submitted what he thought a just and workable system, and from others the Commissioners prepared and sent down in 1872 their draft scheme. Thring found at once that his worst fears were confirmed, that many of his main principles were ignored, and that if the scheme were adopted he could no longer consistently remain head- master of Uppingham. His Diary becomes at this point the best guide to his feelings and views on the subject. November 27//i, 1872. Truly life is hard. To-day I got down the draft scheme of our schools. . . . There are no less than three enactments left in, on any one of which I shall resign, besides sundry little things that are disgusting in a less degree. . . . November 28//i. For the first time in my life I believe care kept me awake great part of the night. But, it is so wonderful, and it has occurred so often this year, I got up to read the Psalms as usual in school. Out flashed on my soul the first verse, "Lord, remember David, and all his trouble;" then the following verses describing so one's life in the main. How my heart rose as I read it! God will not forget. Then when I came out of school my gallant-hearted wife said, " She had been very down, but suddenly it came across her that God had given me a resolute heart to fight for them, and fight for 156 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1872 Him I must ; that her father had died, been hunted to death by his Government superiors for true work, and she had asked in her fear whether God was going to take her husband also, but then she thought of my resolution and was comforted; but, at all events, that we must stand hard, come weal come woe, for our truths." This is wonderfully comforting, to know that if we have to turn out we shall go as always united in the family life. . . . November 2gth. I gave the draft I drew to the masters, and we hold a meeting to-morrow. ... I told them, what I mean to say to all to-morrow, that I wish there to be no mis- take in the matter, that I felt sure there was not the slightest danger to our present success either from Endowed School Commissioners or governors ; we were quite secure, but that this was not the point I looked to. I had not worked here for twenty years to ensure this, but for the cause of education, and that for this I should now carry my point against the Commissioners or resign, but that it was well there should be no mistake in the ground taken up. But every master must judge for himself. It struck me this afternoon how strangely like the Psalmist my life had been when he said, " Thou hast made my hill so strong I shall never be moved." These words had often come into my mind, and I had felt that though I knew God could, I did not quite see how He could overthrow the school for me, and I had felt that though I tried to be humble and to feel my weakness I did not quite succeed as I wished. I have got it now at all events. November 1,0th. A marvellous day perhaps the most consciously marvellous that I have passed in my life. It goes back so far ; it covers so much ground ; it is such a centre- point of life backward and forward. It fills me with wonder, and, I trust, with faith too. First came the morning service in school, with its apposite and ringing psalm with its first verse. Then the Litany and Communion Service in chapel at tea St. Andrew's Day, with its touching simple call to leave all and follow Christ. And the chapel itself, shall it be wrested from us ? After chapel immediately the masters' meeting. ... I began the meeting itself by stating that I thought a sober, unimpassioned conclusion ought to be 1872 SCHOOL COMMISSIONS 157 arrived at by each man, and especially that there ought to be no false impression, and I wished accordingly to state my strong conviction that nothing was further from the ideas -of either Commissioners or later of governors than the intention of doing us any harm if we took their scheme, or a far worse scheme ; that they would favour us, crack us up, help us, and in every way forward the material success of the school. But that was not my view. I had worked for twenty years for given principles, and there were five things at least in the scheme as a matter of principle on any one of which I would resign. Then - said, "That was equivalent to giving in my resignation then and there. Did I think I was going to carry these points?" 1 said I was not going to discuss that ; causes were advanced by overthrow as much as by victory sometimes. I had thought this crisis possible for years, and was now telling them what I meant to do. I had no doubt they might, with luck, be thoroughly prosperous and successful if they separated from me, accepted the scheme, and took another headmaster from the governors. I wished them to weigh this. Mr. Rowe, perhaps before this, asked, " If we all resigned with you, would you start a new school with us here ? Resigning need not mean leaving." I said I would give a perfectly honest answer. " I would not do so as chief of a joint-stock company, or on any terms excepting such as an amended scheme might give." They said they had the experience of the past, and knew my terms, etc. I said, " No, I could not lead them, and would not on such terms as the past." The terms would have to be settled before I accepted their headship, and I was particularly anxious they should see this clearly, as I would not have them say by and by that I had betrayed them. The matter was very serious ; there would be much subtle concession and argument ; we were a large company, and each man must judge for himself. I would not bind myself in any way, and it was quite possible as matters advanced that we might be anything but a compact body. . . . Then we proceeded to the business of my stating the five points on which I would resign. I began with the refusal to let us working men be represented by two governors. The battle-ground was the fact that we were living founders representing 95 per cent 158 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1872 of the annual outlay and plant. . . . That we stood alone in having living representatives of capital laid out over a series of years for a principle which, to some of us at all events, was much the reverse of profitable, whereas other schools had only invested money when it was profitable to do so. ... There was some talk whether I would accept a com- promise on this. I said I was open to some compromise on this head alone, provided the rest of the scheme was thoroughly satisfactory; but if not, I was, on principle, very strong for the rights of the working men, and should not give way. Then we went through the other points. ... I don't know what will come of it ; whether masters in a body will stick to me or not. They are good men as a body, . . . and if they see the principle some of them really would lace the danger for the principle's sake. Again, boldness is as safe as cowardice; they may see that. Their risk, if I fail and go, is very great indeed. At all events, I have put before them clearly in a dispassionate way the whole question. There must be great searchings of heart with them as well as with me. It will sift the worldliness which was creeping over us thoroughly and keenly. December ist. My sermon preached, my confirmation class done. Campbell to-day, when he came in with the alms account, gave in his adhesion. " He always meant to go if I went ; he did not want to serve under any other headmaster. He could not with his family bind himself, but he certainly should not stay a moment longer than he could help if I went." This cheers me, but I am most comforted by having got out in so quiet a way without a word of dis- cussion the broad, clear view of the choice now before them, and of my position and intentions. If they hold to the cause and to me they do so without a single expression to move their feelings or win them to my side. . . . December $rd. How it has gone to my heart of late years to see the work and the truth of it gradually overlaid and encrusted, and anything I said of past sacrifices like words to the lotus-eaters, and more and more blindness and carping and rebellion daily, and the life of the place slipping through my fingers, and all in danger of being really only a successful speculation, instead of a Irving truth ! And now comes this 1872 SCHOOL COMMISSIONS 159 sharp sword cutting asunder all their cobwebs, and bringing them face to face with the great choice, principle, or safety, though it is more mercifully or less mercifully put than that, since principle is really the safest. ... I trust I may conquer. I should feel more confident if the Commissioners were not so knowingly ignorant about schools. Ignorance in power cannot afford to discriminate. One sheep is the same as another to a man who is not a shepherd. To LORD LYTTELTON. December 6th, 1872. I have no objection to telling you anything. It is with much concern that I find myself adding to the troubles of your office, and I beg you will believe that I am in every way anxious personally not to stand in the way of the Commissioners. But I have now for twenty years been slowly working up what I believe to be a truth, and I cannot betray it now. The scheme as sent down to me has sundry provisions in it under which I could not continue here as headmaster. I must explain what I mean by this. I have no fear for immediate success ; as long as the school is in its present healthy, robust state all would go well externally, for the simple reason that none of the obnoxious clauses of the scheme would be brought into action. I wish, therefore, to lay down very distinctly that I am not contending in any way for my own present loss or gain when I join issue on these matters. Quite the contrary ; the loss to me of resigning at my age I had rather say nothing about ; the gain of staying is certain. But this is not the question. The cause I have lived for is, in my judgment, endangered; the moment I cannot continue to work for my cause, I must give way to some one who thinks differently. That I see clearly, and shall not shrink from doing it. In its general form my position is simple. It is this. Every great profession is full of complicated professional know- ledge, and requires skilled workers of a high class. I claim that the skilled workers, each in his own trade, shall be well represented in the management of the trade, and not interfered with by external unintelligent power in carrying on the trade. In other words, the function of 160 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1872 governors, even if there was a provincial council to act instead of the present strange arrangement, is, in my opinion, strictly confined to seeing that the schools do their duty within certain strict laws, and no governor or council, short of the highest in the kingdom, should have absolute power to alter at will the structure and character of a school. If this is true when public money is being dealt with, it becomes an injustice of the gravest kind to violate it when a school has been re- founded, as Uppingham has been, without any fear of such interference, and has given a large amount of property to the governing body on a different understanding, and could at once, if this property, as is just, is returned when the compact is broken, cast off the foundation entirely, and even without this can do so if compelled by terms it will not and cannot submit to. There are sundry things in the scheme which practically give absolute control of the construction of the school to the governing body, and that deadest of all dead hands, the hand of living external force, can at any moment be applied to the heartstrings of the work and the workers here. My cause is lost if anything of this kind is left in the scheme. But there is no power that can compel me to pull down my life-work myself. I have thought over this subject for years and calmly made up my mind long ago. But though rather surprised at seeing none of the suggestions I had made incorporated in the scheme, I thoroughly believe that you and your colleagues will do us justice, and nothing can be further from my wish than to embarrass your very difficult and anxious task in any way that I can avoid. December %th. Marie asked me to-day what I should do if turned out, and we just talked the matter over a little. If nothing turns up I mean, please God, to take a few little boys. Up to this time he had been in doubt as to what the attitude of the masters as a body would be. December \qth. On Tuesday morning I received a really precious document, a paper declaring my claims as re-founder of this school, and their determination to back me to the best of their power, signed by all the masters. I wrote short notes 1873 SCHOOL COMMISSIONS 161 to Rowe and Earle saying I would send an official answer next day, and thanking them. The document here referred to was as follows : December i6th, 1872. We, the undersigned masters of Uppingham School, considering (1) That Mr. Thring has been headmaster for nearly twenty years ; (2) That when he came the school consisted of about 25 boys, and that it now consists of about 400 ; (3) That from the first the school has been worked at great risk and expense upon definite principles, con- sidered by Mr. Thring and by all of us to be of vital importance, and that to the working of these principles the success of the school is due ; (4) That of the present school buildings the Trust has contributed 8f per cent, and Mr. Thring and his masters 9 1 per cent ; (5) That the school is thus virtually a new foundation and Mr. Thring the founder ; (6) That " the efficiency of a system depends for the most part upon the living power that sets and keeps it in motion " (Bishop Fraser), and that this living power cannot be created, but may easily be destroyed, by a scheme imposed ab extra ; are strongly of opinion that Mr. Thring's judgment on the new scheme has a special claim upon the respect of the Com- missioners, and are ready to back him to the best of our power on all points of the scheme which he considers to be of vital importance. But assistance soon afterwards came from a quarter whence Thring had little expected it. February 2 yd. A wonderful day ! a day that repays years of toil, besides the calm confidence and hope it gives for the future. It is as if a great door had opened out of a narrow passage and shown me suddenly the hidden things of life behind me and in front. Mr. Jacob from Liverpool and Mr. Lowndes have been here. They have only had boys here this half-year, but it is impossible for me to give any idea of M 162 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1873 the earnestness and zeal they show, or of the way the school has caught hold of them and their friends. It was like a dream hearing Mr. Jacob talk of the consternation that the thought of Uppingham being broken up had caused ; how the Nonconformists had declared themselves ready to do anything ; and, in fact, the wonderful effect that the quiet work here has had. They are ready to get up at once a parents' memorial ; I am to send them the addresses. . . . If it is necessary, they will fight the matter in both Houses of Parliament ; they have sounded their members who will undertake it. In Manchester people are working with them, so that I find a great and powerful confederacy able to force almost anything rising out of the work itself as if by a magician's wand. " Why are ye so fearful, O ye of little faith ? " Indeed, how I deserve this reproach. My King has never left me to be a prey. All this trial is developing greater life and power, and brightening what seemed to be so dreary. As for me I cannot realise it. To hear the deep feeling with which Mr. Jacob talked of the school almost made me feel as if I was an impostor, and that he would find me out, and so indeed I am, if that was all, and I might well fear ; but the Master I serve is no impostor, and His work will not be found out, and as I have worked for Him I feel there is truth even if it is not in me. Mr. Jacob said he would finish by telling Canon Robinson " that if the Com- missioners broke up Uppingham by forcing me to resign, they would carry off the boys and found it anew elsewhere, and leave them empty walls only. ..." What strength and comfort has come to me out of this trial ! How bright the past looks when I see what fathers, men of such sense and power, think of it, and how deeply they feel, and how earnestly they support the work ! How the future brightens with such assurance of God's blessing; how small my cares look ; how rich the recompense ; how worthy of any labour ! . . . How it strengthens me for to- morrow, and makes my position with the governors one of independence and patronising rather than being patronised ! March \st. Another week over ; a wonderful time. Whatever comes of it a new world has opened up for me a certainty of security and power and blessing on work unknown before. So the Israelites after all their trial and backslidings 1873 SCHOOL COMMISSIONS 163 in the wilderness must have felt on the evening of their first great battle won. Then the dim feelings and sad lessons and half-perceived truths and gathering faith must have had a birth hour into conscious strength and perception of God on earth as well as in heaven. I trust I have felt it before, but do feel as I never have before that the victory is in my hands now. May God give me strength to bear it and to feel it more and more. If I could but tell what I know of God's love and Christ's glory. March 22nd. It is settled by my allies to try and over- throw the scheme entirely on Church grounds. I am so thankful that this which I thought impossible is to be done. God has raised up a power to do it. May \st. This morning (may it be an omen) the summons to meet the Commissioners next Wednesday came. God give me wisdom and strength to do His will. J. H. Green was here yesterday to report over his examination by the Committee of the House of Commons. He tells me they ask much about Uppingham, and give out that the Commis- sioners will settle with us, and that we have no intention of coming to a rupture or fighting. We shall see. The interview with the Commissioners took place on 7th May, and he reports its results a few days later. To W. T. JACOB. THE SCHOOL HOUSE, UPPINGHAM, iith May 1873. I will now give you a little gossip about my interview. When I went in, after taking my seat, almost immediately Lord Lyttelton blurted out that it was clear we had no locus standi under the Bill to be made an exception, and they quoted the governors' memorial, and proceeded to argue there was no present danger in the present scheme. I said to this that I wished to state at once that I apprehended no present danger either on Church or on other matters ; that I felt sure in my day the school would go on under a far worse scheme than the one in my hand perfectly satisfactorily. But I wished before I said another word to state distinctly that I was not contesting any- thing in my own interest, quite the contrary, but with a view 164 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1873 to the future, and to times when the school might be weak. Then Lyttelton pressed me whether I thought we had any legal claim under the Bill. I answered to the effect that I was not there to pass judgment, or even to express any opinion on legal claims j that I was not there to state our case, our just demands, and what we were prepared to do. It was for others to decide on this legally ; it was their part, not mine, to consider that question. Then they began pressing me about the legal view. I answered to the effect that we considered both on the terms of the original foundation (which I went into), and also on the terms of my work in faith on that basis we had an irresistible claim in equity to be considered ; that we were prepared to fight this claim step by step, and in every possible way bring forward our just right both in Parliament and elsewhere. There was some discussion about the effect of the present scheme and the unlikelihood of any alteration of the Church character in consequence. I answered that I would state candidly that if I was sure that the Church of England would not be disestablished, I should be willing to trust to the spirit of the place, the spirit of the country, the chapel, and unseen powers ; but that if the Church was disestablished, it was clear that any school which had its connection with the Church broken off now, would be seized at once by the State then as ipso facto already State property, and that was worth contending for. Lyttelton here broke in brusquely, " That is speculative and a great jump." I answered, " Perhaps ; but these are days of jumping ; we are getting familiar with great jumps, and it is necessary to provide for jumps in these jumping days." He said, "Do you mean to say you will go on even if you are not one of the exceptions provided for in the Bill ? " I answered, " Certainly we should." He said, " That is like running your head against a wall." I answered that that was exactly what we meant to do ; we are going to run our heads against a wall if necessary. Then or soon after he left, and Canon Robinson and Roby continued the discussion. Roby said in the course of the argument he could not under- stand how we differed from other schools, Rugby, for example, where all the houses were private property also. I explained that at Rugby and at similar schools, when the school had flourished, it had been found advantageous to build houses, 1873 SCHOOL COMMISSIONS 165 and thus in a generation or two the school became great because it was profitable, and that the original speculators in building were all or most of them dead and passed away before the school attained its greatness ; but that at Upping- ham I had started the school on a given principle to work out my belief in honest work, and had worked it at a great loss through evil days with those who joined me ; that any man of business who would examine the question would see that when I began on the plan I did begin on, if that plan was persisted in, and it has been persisted in, no possible success could be so successful as the going on on the plan of the old scheme, without risk, whilst to fail was to be ruined ; that this system and school had been completed by me in one generation, and I was there to claim this. Canon Robinson summarised this argument in a very neat sentence. " I see, he said, " at Rugby the school made the houses, and at Uppingham the houses made the school." " Exactly so," I said ; " that repre- sents the pivot of the thing completely." Then Roby objected that Mr. Gathorne Hardy had stated before the Committee of the House that there had been a new endowment of ^70,000, whereas only ,13,000 had been given to the Trust, and all the rest was private property. I answered to this effect, that even put in the way in which he put it, it was fair to throw in my twenty years of life and all the money I had sunk in working the school up to its present state, though I had not a brick to show for it. ... I then said, " Suppose we put it in another way, and say if you give us back what we have given to the Trust and allow us to pay the balance on the schoolroom of 3000, we will give you no more trouble ; we will throw up the endowment at once, and start to-morrow on our own basis." Canon Robinson then smiled and said, "A mutual friend of ours, Mr. Thring (you), did come to me the other day and ask whether it was not possible to buy out the foundation, and proposed to do it." "Yes," I said; "that is the true way of putting the case." "But what about the exhibitions," said Roby, "which you laid such store by?" "Oh," I said, "the exhibitions are nothing to us, we can re-establish them to-morrow." " Can you ? " said he. " Yes," I answered, " in a matter of that kind I command the market absolutely and should not have the slightest difficulty." 166 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1873 "Then," he said, "you don't care for the endowment?" "Not from that point of view in the least," I answered; "but I care intensely for the good man's foundation, the antiquity, the old house ; the spirit and all the language of the past to which I attach such importance in education, and believe in so much. . . ." At last I succeeded in bringing out clearly that if the skilled workmen, taking a series of years, could not do their own work, most certainly unskilled external power could not ; I explained also that I did not want to make the professional man the ultimate judge, but simply to throw the responsibility of working well on him, when the kind of work to be done had been assigned. That then the instrument must work in its own way, and bad laws well carried out in such a case were better than good laws badly carried out ; that I acted on that principle with my assistant masters in letting them work, and I claimed the same liberty for myself; and I made a strong distinction between supervision which I admitted, and inter- ference and power of initiating and prescribing which I said nothing should ever induce me to work under. The up-shot was the doctrine of non-interference and supervision was admitted, and they declared themselves ready to modify all the obnoxious clauses. . . . Once more a thousand thanks for all your support, which has, I may truly say, completely altered the whole world and its bearings for me at this trying time, and cheered and strengthened me wonderfully. There was still a long and troublesome path to travel over, but in the end the chief points for which Thring contended were embodied in the constitution of the school. Its church character was maintained ; the masters secured due representation on the governing body ; the internal management of the school was not given to amateur rulers, but to the headmaster and his staff the skilled workers. The final settlement of the question came during the storm and stress of the great migration to Borth. In the pressure of difficulties which came upon him at that time Thring was more careless 1873 SCHOOL COMMISSIONS 167 about his own business interests in the school than of the great principles on which it was conducted. His energy, zeal, and organising capacity had built up a great school ; he had not merely sacrificed time and strength, but he had risked his own means in placing it on a firm foundation. If ever man had a right to reap the practical fruits of success, Thring had. But in his anxiety to safeguard fundamental principles this was little thought of. Meanwhile, it cheered him to feel that the strong stand which he had taken for Uppingham would make the future safer for other schools. To W. F. RAWNSLEY, ESQ. BEN PLACE. July $th, 1873. I have no doubt that Uppingham, as you say, furnished the backbone, for the simple reason that no other school either could or would hold out on any distinct principle. It was with them a mere scramble for a little more money, or a little more patronage in a blind way, with no solid power of intelligent, unselfish knowledge. If we had given way, everything else was limp, and all would have been lost. I felt very strongly the cause of true education and skilled work was at stake ; and probably far more than we are at all aware of, the fact of Uppingham standing firm for principle has been a turning-point, so far at least as preventing an unresisted downward drag, and suggesting that there was a true principle of school life of a definite kind. It was worth any risk to uphold at this epoch intelligent views which were real and could not be talked down. On the most important points of school management all the great schools had already given way and quietly accepted the dead hand of ignorant external power, and the dead weight of the idea that the skilled work- man can be told by such potentates how he is to do his own skilled work. This is deadly. To prevent this is a cause worth fighting for, and now I can breathe again. I thank God for the past year with all its pain, and revelations, and shaking. There will be more life, more strength, better work for it CHAPTER VII THE HEADMASTERS' CONFERENCE THE Conference of the headmasters of public schools has now become a body of recognised influence in England ; the deliberations at its annual or biennial gatherings are watched with deep interest by the public and seriously discussed by all the leading jour- nals : it provides a common channel through which the secondary school life of the country finds a voice for its opinions the only parliament in which its perplexities can be discussed, the experience of masters compared, the relations of the public schools to the educational movements of the time considered. Doubtless the significance and weight of the Conference are fluctuat- ing quantities, and at any particular period will be determined by the activity of educational thought and progressive spirit, or the amount of individual energy among its members. Whether it has quite fulfilled, as a stimulant to educational movement, the hopes of its founder may be questioned. But that it has broken down a deadening isolation, induced a healthy inter- change of ideas between public schools, given them a united voice in time of need, exercised a powerful influence on various educational questions, and that it is capable of much further development for good, there 1869 THE HEADMASTERS' CONFERENCE 169 can be no reasonable doubt. Within a few years of its inception it had secured the adhesion of all the great schools, and at its meetings was being welcomed and splendidly entertained by each of the most important of them in turn. But when the organisation of the Conference was first suggested by Thring, the welcome which the idea received was by no means universal, as I shall have to show. The inception and growth of the plan in his mind can be pretty fully traced in his Diary and in fragments of correspondence. It was suggested by a meeting of masters called for a special purpose. In the recollections of Thring which Bishop Mitchinson has furnished, his Lordship thus mentions this meeting and its result : We were brought into contact on another interesting question, a rapprochement destined to produce far-reaching results. The Endowed Schools Bill was before Parliament : it contained important provisions of a somewhat drastic character, largely concerning the future of grammar schools, and the fortunes of their masters ; no common action was being taken, and none seemed likely to be taken. Although, therefore, I was but an insignificant member of the craft, I ventured to invite a considerable number of my brother head- masters to meet at the Freemasons' Tavern in London. The meeting was well and influentially attended : we discussed the bill, framed resolutions, and by deputation interviewed Mr. Forster, then Vice-President of the Council. At the close of the second meeting to receive the report of the deputation, Thring rose and, after commenting on the utility and pleasant- ness of such a gathering, proposed that it should become an annual institution, and then and there invited the first Public Schools Conference to Uppingham the following December. At Uppingham we met in the cruellest winter weather ; but it was forgotten in the hospitality we experienced, and in the interest that was aroused and sustained throughout the gathering. I travelled down in company with Dr. Welldon, i;o LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1869 then headmaster of Tunbridge; as we traversed the dreary, sodden, mist -clad country he kept repeating at intervals, " Thring must be a wonderful man to have made a school like this in the midst of such a howling wilderness " ! We may now turn to his own views in connection with the preliminary meeting to which reference has been made, and the motives which influenced him in taking a further and more decisive step. February 2$th, 1869. This afternoon on coming out of third school, found a letter from Mitchinson l of Canterbury, wanting the headmasters of the endowed schools to meet in Oxford or London, and confer about the proposed bill, but I have written to say I cannot go. I like Mitchinson, but the fact is, first, much as I disapprove of the Government move, yet my objections do not belong so much to the bill itself as to the muddle they have made in glorifying the seven schools ; and in the second Commission not raising the question even of what is a good school. . . . But then there is no opening for expressing this. Then, on the other hand, I suppose of the men who will meet not one really fully agrees with my school views, many are deeply pledged against them, so I don't want to identify Uppingham and myself with them. Lastly, as Uppingham stands alone, I must either lead or be in a false position, and as I am sure I should not lead in such a Conference, I can at least avoid being in a false position. The fact is, for many months I have turned over every con- tingency in my mind, and see no possible chance of anything but sitting still and working on quietly as long as we are left alone, as nothing but an amount of power which no one will dream of offering to one so insignificant as myself would make any other course wise. But we will not forecast too much ; " sufficient for the day." There is here a noble progressive work. As long as that remains nothing more is needed. March \st. A day I fear much to be remembered by me. A letter this morning from Mitchinson with a strong personal appeal to me to attend the meeting in London to-morrow. And so all my well-considered arguments are beaten down, and I cannot think it right not to go and say my say, and 1 Headmaster of Canterbury School Bishop of Barbadoes. 1869 THE HEADMASTERS' CONFERENCE 171 perhaps I launch out into a sea, and this is the last night of unmolested work I may pass for years unmolested in spirit. I feel a solemn dread mixed with the excitement of change. And I bless God for having allowed me external rest to carry through the deadly struggle here, and then giving me a pause, a calm for a little time to recover strength and nerve before the certain vexation and possible great and trying conflict now before me has come on. . . . March yd. Back from London. Much pleased at having gone. Found twenty-five or twenty-six of the best masters there Mitchinson, Harper, and others, and on the whole the meeting was very satisfactory. I never saw so little time wasted, and on the whole so much good sense shown. I was very much struck with the general appearance and behaviour of the men. A deputation is to wait on Mr. Forster next week. I shall not go unless Mitchinson wants me to under- take some special thing. We passed sundry resolutions and made suggestions. I feel a sense of support, if nothing else, from having met those men. March ^th. Wrote to Mitchinson saying I was glad I had gone, and suggesting that we should combine and have an annual meeting at Christmas, taking each time some one of our schools as the place of rendezvous, I receiving them at Uppingham this year. I hope this will be approved, as we want more communion and intercourse. Marck i2th. Came back from London to-day. The deputation was received very courteously, and seems satis- factory. But by far the most satisfactory thing to me was that I have got a school congress to meet every year at a school, and next Christmas at Uppingham (D.V.) the first will be held. May God bless this great working step. All the masters present signed the paper agreeing to this, so sufficient weight has been gained to make it certain. This may and will, please God, be the beginning of a great work, which may have more beneficent power than any Acts of Parliament. May God help us. March i$th. Uppingham and one or two other schools mentioned by Walter in his speech on Mr. Forster's bill, as equally good with the seven schools " to say the least." I have not seen the speech yet. ... I don't wish to get classed 172 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1869 with the seven schools for many things. I sympathise with those below, not with those above, and I should work to aid them. March 2oth. Sent off to-day a schedule of school classi- fication to Mr. Forster. 1 I daresay it will go into the waste- paper basket, though it deserves attention. No other plan is true. Also to Harper ; I wonder what he will say to it. March 2$rd. I had a most satisfactory note from Mr. Forster himself to-day, saying he would take my paper with him during the Easter holiday and study it carefully. Now, whatever comes of it I feel more at ease, liberavi animam meant. If it is to be, well, and if it is not to be, I hope still I can honestly say, well. April $th. Solemn thoughts in my heart to-night about this great new epoch opening before me in school life. Perchance I may be spared much additional temptation and left to work my work fairly quietly, perchance I may be drawn into the whirling stream of conflicting interests and ignorance, as I seem to be getting. God help me. Let me not perish in prosperity and temptations of vanity after having got through the hard agony of those ten years. God help me and mine. October 2 2nd. A very useful and cheering letter from Harper this morning. He wishes me to try and get masters of all kinds together at Christmas, so I have prepared a missive to-day and sent it to be printed, and hope to get it off next week. It is a bold stroke. I think I am sure of enough acceptances to make it a beginning, even if the great schools hold off. May God bless it. October 2gtk. To-day sent off all my invitations to the headmasters ; two, Rugby and Rossall, kept back, as the places are vacant. I wonder how the schools will answer. I am not thin-skinned about it. If they won't combine they won't. If they will, my position as the leading school under this bill makes me the fittest person to send out a summons. The circular thus sent out, and which outlined his ideas about the Conference and its aims, is as follows : 1 The Right Hon. W. E. Forster, M.P. 1869 THE HEADMASTERS' CONFERENCE 173 THE SCHOOL HOUSE, UPPINGHAM, z^rd October 1869. The whole question of education and school is exciting much attention. Government is dealing with school bye-laws recently passed, other measures are contemplated, and future Governments will most assuredly take up the question. Nothing has been more remarkable than the absence of any decided voice from the great body, whose work is being handled by external power. Yet a profession, involving experience and practice of the most varied and intricate kind, ought not to be without a common voice under such circumstances. The reasons of this difficulty are not far to seek. The pressure of continuous heavy work, and the wide area over which schools are scattered, are the two most obvious. The first obstacle must remain but the second can at least be mitigated, if not entirely removed, by choosing alternately a school north and south of London as a place of meeting. This plan also gives, year by year, new interest and practical knowledge of what is being done in different parts of England. It is proposed, therefore, to hold a meeting, annually, of headmasters of schools, at the beginning of the Christmas holidays. Sundry important schools have assented to this plan. I invite, therefore, your attendance on Wednesday and Thursday, .22nd and 23rd Dec., at Uppingham, to consult as to what is best to be done. After this the place of meeting will be decided, each year, on the plan mentioned above. It is proposed to discuss school questions in such a manner as may be determined at the first meeting. . . . That the idea of a Conference for the free discussion of school subjects jarred on the isolated habits and conservative tendencies of the greater schools especially was soon evident. The numerous refusals received proved that the Conference would have to justify its own existence. 174 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1869 Speaking to the Association of Headmistresses eighteen years later about the small beginnings of the Conference, and of the response to his first invitation, he said : It was called together after much searching of heart, from a deep conviction that all the skill of the skilled workmen of English schools were truly lying, like the seed in the parable, scattered by the wayside for the birds of the air to peck at and devour, and for amateur authority to trample under foot. All lay helpless ; there was no defence, no union, no central life that could speak and move. Any risk was better than this. So with many misgivings, with a very resolute and yet very cowardly heart, that meeting was called together. Between sixty and seventy invitations were sent out, and twelve finally came. The excuses were various, and a curious study. How often in my working life have I been reminded of Ovid's line : " Spectatum veniunt, veniunt spectentur ut ipsae." For how are the judges judged, especially when inspecting their inferiors, as they think, and dealing out self-satisfied superi- ority with complacent skill. Well, twelve came. And we can glory at this hour that only twelve came so big a tree has now grown out of it, and so many branches on every side. 1 Nothing was further from Thring's thoughts than that the Conference should grow into an arbiter of school methods or a censor of existing systems. Of this he was compelled later to give decisive proof. In order to remove any such impression, and to define the real purpose of the Conference, he added a note to the agenda paper sent out for the first meeting : The headmasters have been asked to come together under no idea of a single meeting being any great good, but in the hope that year by year the seeing different schools, learning each other's difficulties, hearing the views of thoughtful, educated men, making acquaintance with one another, and 1 Address to Headmistresses, June i6th, 1887. 1869 THE HEADMASTERS' CONFERENCE 175 enjoying a little intercourse, may tend in time to bring about, if not a common consent on main points, at least a kindly feeling and readiness to give help and counsel. Dec. i8//fc. Now the masters' meeting is close at hand. I am well satisfied at the men who are coming All the best endowed schools. This is an excellent beginning if anything is to come to it ... I think the school is in very sound heart. This cheers me. The masters coming on Tuesday are : Harper Sher- borne ; Pears Repton ; Welldon Tunbridge ; G. Butler Liverpool ; Wratislaw Bury ; Stokoe Richmond ; Blore Bromsgrove ; Wood Oakham ; Mitchinson Canterbury ; Grignon Felsted ; Sanderson ; Dyne Highgate ; Jessopp Norwich; Carver Dulwich, These will actually appear unless something unforeseen occurs. May God keep us all, and give us wisdom, and support and strengthen me in all dangers and difficulties. December 2$th. The day come and gone, and most suc- cessful. 6ew 8oo. On Wednesday morning I felt a unit ; on Thursday morning a power, so completely has even this meeting altered things. Thirteen of us met on Wednesday, though two or three were not there at first. We met at ten, and I made a short address, explaining my views, and we debated on the formation of our . . . till one, when we lunched, and afterwards lionised till four. Two great dangers we escaped : one, Dr. - - wished to make concession to try and bring in the great schools, and tack us on to them. I laid down plainly that I thought it was simple death to do so ; we rested on our vitality and work, they on their prestige and false glory : if they would meet us on common ground, well and good ; if not, not. Dr. - was very courteous, and so that danger passed. 1 The other was when I proposed 1 The suggestion made was to appoint the headmaster of Eton president of the Conference for a certain number of years. In the discussion upon this point Thring said : " I cannot be suspected of not appreciating the great schools in any opinion I may express. I was nine years at Eton. I am a Kingsman, with my name still on the College books ; I examined at Eton for four consecutive years for the election to King's, and am thoroughly sensible of the wonderful advantages of my old school. I speak of Eton as the one I am best acquainted with, and take 176 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1869 Sherborne as the next place of meeting. . . . When young, one thinks one's feelings are as sincere as they are strong, God wills it to make us work ; when older one finds out partly how false-hearted one is, and fears one is much worse than one expects, and a horror creeps up lest the seeming holy power one gains be apples of Sodom full of human frailty and dust, and the hearts one sways, and the high words one speaks, and the works one works, and which grow and influence and sway, be also corrupt and poison in a subtle way all the more subtle because they seem good. O God, it is a wondrous thing to work for Thee, a thing full of grace and fear and love, and confidence and weakness, and all con- tradictions and searchings of heart. Only do thou accept me and this work. O Christ, purify and bless Thy work in us. Make us a brotherhood to be a light in England ; lift us not up, O Lord, as beacons, but as a saving clear light. . . . Make us Thine in these days of doubt and danger. . . . On the Thursday we discussed the school bill, and broke up, all it as a type. But our cause, I conceive, is in one sense quite distinct from that of the great schools. We take our stand on work, and life, and pro- gress ; and here, I think, for many reasons the true power is with us ; we are stronger than they, and should only injure ourselves by not asserting this. I perfectly understand the value of rank and wealth. To take a comparison, I for one distinctly see what an advantage it is to be Marquis of Exeter, Master of Burghley House, with a great fortune to support this position ; I am the last man to withhold from duke or marquis their honour or their power ; but, on the other hand, I can take an honest pride in being a schoolmaster, in my work, and my experience, and if school life is the question, then I cannot give way to rank, because it is rank, unless it is right, and has experience also. This seems to me the position some- what of the great schools and ourselves. If they come in on the basis of working power and life we shall be glad, but we can acknowledge no other common basis. Eton I hold to be one of the most difficult and insoluble problems of the present day, not because the men who are working Eton want zeal or energy, or earnestness, but because they are hemmed in on every side by an unpleasant glory that belongs to the past, trammelled by a blind affection, which means contentment with old machinery and usages, and would show itself in a very different way if the shield was turned round. Our schools depend absolutely and entirely on the vitality of pro- gressive work ; on this we take our stand ; on this we are prepared to challenge all comers, and I do think that true, hearty, and fairly untram- melled work on the one hand, and an obsolete glory, a trammelling prestige and intense difficulties in the way of true progress on the other, form a 1871 THE HEADMASTERS' CONFERENCE 177 of us much strengthened and encouraged. A happy Christ- mas Eve ; my little G so bright, and everything bright. Thring was always anxious to acknowledge the great part taken in the foundation of the Conference by his friend Dr. Harper, in whose social tact and organising skill he found a most necessary supplement to his own enthusiasm. Of the second meeting of the Conference he makes this note : January loth, 1871. Returned yesterday from our visits at Sherborne, Hornblotton, and Clevedon. The meeting at Sherborne a splendid success. Harper, as I expected, did it in first-rate style. Mrs. Harper also admirable. Every one felt the gain of the social intercourse. The seven school delusion broken up. Winchester and Shrewsbury there ; Eton has joined since. A committee formed to look after school interests. In fact a great power is certainly started. very awkward condition to begin with ; and if this is to be got over, as I hope, there seems only one way of doing it, to make life and progress the basis, and live in the hope that progress will prevail. If at the present moment we put ourselves in any attitude but that of simply inviting co- operation, there is but one other lot we must be slaves. And that I do not feel inclined for. To me Eton seems the perfection of a school in external advantages, a fairyland (I speak with no comparison or disrespect to others). It has wonderful powers of a certain kind, and earnest men using that power ; but when I come to progressive work, the means of doing it thoroughly, and the chance of those means being seen and brought to bear, there I stop ; on that ground we stand better than they ; we are better able to work, more alive to the necessity of it, inclined to search and see, comparatively unfettered in carrying out our discoveries, and we do carry them out more effectually. If they are willing to join us on a basis of common life and progress, we are most willing to have them, but we do not want their name if the basis is not true. We wish to stand as representatives of living progress, and to keep our arms open to receive adhesions from all schools, the great schools especially, even if it be for a hundred years. No lapse of time, or unwillingness to recognise our Society, if it existed, ought lo stand in the way in the least of our being always ready to give a friendly reception to a newcomer, whether he come late or early. I can say the great schools have been exceedingly courteous in all the communications which have passed ; I trust they will be willing to take our ground of thorough true life and progress as their ground, and meet us on it ; but so long as they cannot do so, if they cannot do so, their joining us will not be strength but weakness." N 178 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1878 May God bless its workings. I was very much struck with the superior style of the numerous masters present. He watched with deepest interest the widening influence of the Conference, as it won general accept- ance, and held its gathering at Winchester, Dulwich, Eton, Harrow, Marlborough, and other schools. In 1875 he writes to a friend : Ben Place, Grasmere, July gth. I sent you sundry lucu- brations ; amongst them the Conference Report. I was not at the Conference. My dear old father died that week. Not very much was done. . . . But the Conference has done good work, and, if nothing more, has shown the possibility of calling together the schools in the hour of danger. Most of all though, perhaps, it has utterly broken up the exclusiveness of the old schools, and created a feeling of friendliness and union amonp all schoolmasters. This in itself is a stupendous gain. Reformer though he was, questions arose in the Conference from time to time on which he took the most resolutely conservative stand. He steadily re- sisted, for instance, a proposal to admit assistant masters to full membership, on the ground that those finally responsible for a school could alone rightly have voice and vote in a teachers' parliament. On this point his opinion prevailed. In 1878 a more serious difficulty arose. It is worthy of mention, as illustrating his view of the necessary limita- tion to the functions of the Conference, and his method of individual action when a principle was at stake. In the agenda paper for 1878 a motion for applying to the Universities for exemption from learning Greek had been put down for consideration in the committee, of which Thring was a member. " I have written to Moss," x he notes in his Diary on 1 Headmaster of Shrewsbury School. 1878 THE HEADMASTERS' CONFERENCE 179 Nov. 8th, 1878, "to ask him whether we shall oppose it in committee or let it come on, and then take the sense of the Conference on the advisability of never permitting any question affecting the fundamental structure of school education to be discussed at our heterogeneous meetings. If this latter takes place and the amendment is lost, I shall resign my committee place and leave the Conference. But perhaps we shall weather this storm as many others." The result of the meeting of the committee held to decide the question is best told in his own words : November zith. Well, Jex-Blake 1 voted with Moss and me because he thought these burning questions would lead to the disruption of the Conference. I, warmly supported by Moss, argued first that we were not a fit body to deal with questions of structure and dissect one another's schools, and I said that such a question as the Greek question would close the mouths of all men who like me believed it rested on differences of school structure, and that it was idle to talk of the benefit of discussion where the real question could not be discussed. I also said that we had no forms of proceeding for such discussions, and that if we had to make a shuttlecock for a couple of hours' talk of the inheritance of centuries which we held in trust it was entirely false in principle, and that we had no time. But they had made up their minds and we were outvoted, and the subject stands first for discussion. Then I meant to have moved an amendment, to test the Conference whether it would not refuse to discuss such questions of main structure. But I was cleverly dodged then by its being taken out of the list of resolutions, and merely put as a subject for discussion without voting, so I have to-day sent in the resigna- tion of my seat on the committee, with a request that the President will aquaint the Conference, as is their due, with my reason for declining to serve them. Nothing else was left. I am, of course, very sorry, but for years I have made up my mind never to sit in company with men engaged in work on a 1 Headmaster of Rugby Dean of Wells. i8o LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1878 false basis with no power to stop it. I am convinced much of the harm of the world has been done by men continuing to give their presence to things they are powerless to stop. . . . When the Conference met it declined, in a resolu- tion which named him as its founder, to accept his resignation. Many of the leading headmasters wrote privately to endorse this public resolution, and the terms in which they did so indicate the hold which he had gained upon the Conference : "I really think that now we have a fair chance of keeping the Conference to useful work, if you will come back and strengthen the opponents of hasty change. Nothing could be more complimentary to yourself than the tone of the Conference, nothing more significant of the influence for good which you may exercise. I hope and trust you will say 'yes.'" " I write a line to express a hope that you will reconsider your decision, and continue to serve on the committee of the Conference. I do not know that I as a single person have any right to do so, except this : I was one of the original thirteen who met in the schoolroom at Uppingham on the occasion of the first Conference ; and as the whole Conference justly looks upon you as its father and founder, so I think those of the thirteen who still survive as members of it may in an especial manner look upon ourselves as your children. As an act of pietas, therefore, I write to express a very earnest hope that you will not give up your place on the committee. I quite understand the motives which led you to offer your resignation, and knowing the opinion which you hold as to the action of the committee, I do not see how you could have acted otherwise than protest in the strongest way ; but now that the protest has been made, I do sincerely hope that you will consent to resume your place on the committee. It is not only that we shall lose your help as a member of that body (though I am sure that the loss would be felt to be a very great one), but all of us would feel much of the zest taken out of our meetings if one to whom we look up as our founder were no longer to take a prominent place amongst us." 1878 THE HEADMASTERS' CONFERENCE 181 The principle for which he contended having been maintained his resignation was withdrawn. The follow- ing year he shared in the reception of the Conference at the ancient school of his boyhood. The event must have seemed like the crowning triumph of a project conceived in anxious fears ten years before. In a letter to his friend, T. H. Birley, Esq., he says : The Conference at Eton was a great success in putting the finishing stroke to its power and importance. I quite felt that henceforth, while there might be disruption, there was no risk of extinction. We were, of course, received very sumptuously all our meals in the College Hall, and a grand soiree given by the Provost. ... It was a very striking fact some 140 head and assistant masters meeting at Eton and marks a remarkable epoch. CHAPTER VIII EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 1870-1875 THE period covered by the two preceding chapters was crowded with other interests besides those there referred to, and these years were among the most laborious and trying of Thring's toil-filled life. The work of complet- ing the school construction went steadily on. Problems of internal management were constantly arising to be dealt with. The process of reorganisation through which the school was passing, the doubt about its future, the decisive stand on great principles which Thring felt bound to take, the change from the old governing body to the new one, made it a time of unrest. In maintain- ing his principles and in carrying out his plans the relations between himself and his masters were some- times severely strained. I shall have to speak of these relations in another place, but for the present it is enough to say that during these eventful years the idea of resigning his headmastership more than once entered Thring's mind. The completion of the external appli- ances of the school filled him with satisfaction, and he could face resolutely enough external attack, but internal opposition or lack of sympathy was a sore 1870 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 183 vexation of spirit to a man of his ardent temperament Success seems to have in some means weakened the vigorous and enthusiastic co-operation of early days, and the fact took away no small part of his happiness in success. What has been said will explain a note of disap- pointment which runs through parts of his diary during this period. The shadow of coming disaster in sanitary matters is also seen. For the rest, many passages throw light upon his convictions on educational ques- tions and his methods of school management. January \ \th. Alas for the week that has passed. Little Leo Beale was taken ill of scarlet fever the day after we started, and after seeming to have it favourably, died on Sunday, and Mrs. Beale was taken ill on the Saturday also, but I am thank- ful to say she is doing well. Both were at the hospital. . . . January 17 th. . . . I have never felt so firm-hearted, so untroubled, so quietly resolute as now. And I thank God for it. I thank Him for giving me a breathing time, and filling my heart with courage and patience before the whirl begins again. I shall want it all before I have done, between work and battle, but I feel He will be with me. January I'&th. I believe to-day there was in the Times what I may call the first personal thorough recognition of my work- ing life from an educational quarter. ... It is the first time I have been quoted as an authority by an eminent outsider, and it is a striking fact. There is much work cut out to be done. Honour and wealth serve to snub fools and save much friction. So I hail a little honour as so much clear gain. January 2<)th. What a strange being is man ! Here am I going to write, writing this very moment about that which I am quite ignorant of myself. Such a strange mixture of meanness and honesty, faith and unfaith, cowardice and bravery, hardness and weakness, vanity and humility, that one is all at the same moment. One thing I see that I am very ungrate- ful to God for His great blessings, and meanly sensitive to temporary trifles, that I find it very hard to attend to the detail of working life, and yet keep my heart broad and open 184 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1870 to the great impressions and results, very hard to feel the Christian truths which one believes to the bottom of one's heart. February 6th. The feeling of no boys in my own house l makes it quite like the holidays to me still, and I now know by experience for the first time the immeasurable difference between a boarding-house master and a teacher, and how absolutely necessary it is for a headmaster, at least, to have had boarding-house experience, or else all the depth and truth of the training power would be lost or non-existent. I find, too, the practical force of my theory that a day school is an entirely distinct institution from a boarding school, and a master in a day school is well paid at half the rate of a board- ing-house master. ... I shall be obliged now to put off my boys' return. Still very anxious about fever both in my own house and other houses. February ^th. We have been obliged to refuse boys this time. The school is full to the last degree. February gth. A very nice letter from Mrs. Charles Kingsley this afternoon (her husband is in S. America), which cheered me. . . . The intense relief of having no boys back in one's house is beyond expression. Yet what a loss in depth and true work there would be in not having boys in the house. How could I value the training part rightly? How direct, sympathise with, and rightly honour masters without this experience ? . . . February loth. This morning, perhaps, I should have begun with my old grumbling, "A weary week," etc. To-night I feel as if I never should grumble again, such a spirit has come on me. It is as if my eyes were opened by God to see the self- spirit pass away, and to be able with a clear glance to read truth. I feel so happy in the many blessings of being able to do His work, so strong now that for a time the self-mist has rolled off my soul, so ready for war, as if a great war was coming which God by His revelation of Himself to me, and of myself to myself, has been preparing me to fight in quiet, humble, unselfish faith. Not that the old temptations will not come back, but the memory of the clearer vision in my spirit to-night will come too, and the power to endure patiently 1 On account of scarlet fever in the family. 1870 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 185 the wounds to vanity and self-assertion, to resist idleness, and to rejoice in the blessings of my home and Christ's service. May God keep me and mine for ever. Amen. February 2$th, Alas, to-night Walter Earle came in to say one of his little ones has the fever. Poor fellow, it is a great trial, and we are getting anxious for the school. It will be strange if, after so many years, just before we have a hospital, we are overwhelmed. I trust we have not been " worshipping our nets," and as we got our machinery better, thought less of God. March tfh. This evening Walter Earle and I settled the inscription for the east window : " First-fruits from Old Boys, A.D. 1870." Laus Deo. There was a wish to put my name up, but I stopped it for two reasons : first, it does not represent the true kernel of things, the work of God given by God ; and, secondly, it reminds one of the inscriptions churchwardens stick up. We had a hearty laugh over it. April ^th. I was delighted this morning by Walter Earle bringing in a painted map of sentence analysis. In the first place it is an excellent idea ; in the second, it shows they are thoroughly turning their minds to teaching, and I am at length successful in this, thanks to the Analysis. I am greatly pleased. April 2%>th. We are really so full even for Midsummer that it is useless putting names down any more. Gey 8oa. How different from the old racking expectancy and too often hope deferred of a few boys coming. May i$th. An Indian newspaper mentioning Education and School in high terms. This may be good as out there they are not choked up with powerful shams as we. As soon as things are looked at on their own merits and on principles my system must conquer. All through his school life Thring had a rooted aversion to newspaper discussion of school difficulties. This was not because he feared publicity, but because he thought discussion of this kind often defeated the ends of moral training. Having used his best judgment in administering the school discipline, he preferred to i86 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1870 be perfectly silent under criticism. The following paragraph refers to an outbreak of evil in the school, which he had thought right to crush with a stern hand. June ith. An unpleasant note this morning from the editor of the Stamford Mercury, saying there were painful rumours about concerning expulsions and punishments here, and he thought a cautious paragraph from me might do good and save worse. I thanked him, but said I was unable to see my way to writing anything ; that I was only too well aware of the power of evil reports, but if it was to be, I could only just bear it quietly now as I had done in worse times. But it is very hard that nothing can be done without a lying or malicious curiosity publishing everything. It makes honest work very hard. Even now the prospect is by no means pleasant of a garbled account getting into the papers. June 12th. . . . To-day was a glorious day, 189 com- municants; 147 boys actually present. A most impressive and comforting fact. Skrine has got the Newdigate and Hamley a College scholarship. This is pleasant. . . . August i$th. Sir George Couper brought his second son on Saturday, and I had much talk with him yesterday, which left me immensely strengthened in spirit. When I see the deep conviction such a man as he is has of this work, and the gratitude he feels for having his sons here, my heart also realises more my purpose and its reality, the sense of which gets deadened and almost lost in the mud of Commissions and general jaw, so that one's faith half gives way. I feel now again what a noble work this is, and that my post is here, and I am content it should be here. May God bless us and strengthen us. August 2%tk. The boys home and a happy day. A collection for the sick and wounded; special offertory, ^28:125. . . . I feel so much nerved for work, and content to work on here in spite of all my troubles when I see the life a school like this has in these evil days. August $ist. A great encouragement this morning; a letter from America from B , who left a year or two ago, 1870 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 187 such a manly letter, telling us of his having schools for his negroes, and how well they work, and that the Americans don't like the negro schools, but please God they will do good. Altogether so refreshing to find such a fellow a pioneer of good in a strange land. It has cheered me greatly. October $rd. I never realised before to-day how completely the righteous work of having the classes not too large limits the numbers of a school. It has been brought home to me by the talk of fresh houses. We cannot have fresh houses without getting parallel classes, which are a great evil. I have determined, therefore, only to sanction the building of one house, and so not to increase the school ultimately at all. October \ 8ocu October i6th. Very pleased on Friday to find that my house had got up a little entertainment of their own on Friday evening, four of them, including my captain, Cameron, having practised some good songs to sing. We went in all of us as audience. . . . When I think of what a schoolboy's idea of a holiday evening amusement, and singing in particular, would have been in my day I could not feel too thankful for what I saw. . . . October 25^. Some of the masters this morning made a dead set at me on the subject of raising the terms. I met them resolutely and quietly. I contested their figures, and challenged any one to show by actual figures in detail that they got less than ^1000 a year, boy expenses paid, with a full house. Then I took the argument about building houses which was advanced, and said I was not concerned with that. Since quite the beginning every man had built because he wished to. I had nothing to do but sanction it, and had not encouraged any man, and the early men I had rewarded by large concessions, ... so that their risk was minimised. I said whilst I would give anything I could for good work, and only wished I could do more, if they were going to debate the trade question I should argue it like a thorough old Jew, and I repudiated utterly that success, as such, gave them the slightest claim for higher pay. In that sense it was no trade ; they came on a certain basis which success did not affect I said that their only actual argument was the actual rise in provision and wages which I was not inclined to put so high as they did. ... I intimated that I would not raise now in this intermediate state ; that I thought it would be very impolitic to do it ; but that I should use every endeavour before the Commissioners to get us higher terms, as on principle I thought the first endowed school ought to be at a good level. November 6th. Nothing is harder for a ruler than the having to deal with a vexatious incapable who yet is not incapable enough to make it just to get rid of him. 1 87 1 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 189 December $th. Another case of fever in my house to-night. I am so down about it, and, what is worse, feel so rebellious in my heart against it, so unsubmissive, that I am shocked at it. It is such a disappointment just when we hoped all was going to be free. Such a blow and additional work and worry, both of body and mind, that I cannot bear it calmly, and yet how little it is ; what a nothing ; how thankful I should be for this if it was really a heavy sorrow. I am ashamed at myself and vexed, and yet so impatient. School life seems so hard with these immeasurable responsibilities. Such a perpetual struggle and so little rest. Yet I have many blessings, very many, very, very many. O God have mercy on us, and make us love Thy will. December i6th. Last night I wound up the school, and spoke strongly on the sordid point of looking on prizes as motives to work instead of records of having worked. February 26th. Mr. Bell came on Wednesday, and spent Thursday, giving us a nice lecture on the Boys' Home. We collected ^19 : 133. for hirn this offertory. . . . February 2ith. Apportioned the gardens to-day; about forty-two given away as yet They are beginning to look very nice as the paths are getting fairly forward. It gave me great pleasure. . . . Everybody seemed to be delighted. It really will be very pretty when finished. I myself rejoice exceedingly at having got it set going at last. [The gardens here referred to consisted of a few acres of land " Fairfield " which Thring himself bought and planted. A portion of the ground was divided into garden-plots, and these were allotted at a small rental to boys who cared for the cultivation of flowers. An aviary, in which a considerable collection of the smaller native birds was gradually got to- gether, was added later, and furnished additional opportunity for creating a taste for natural history. Gardens and aviary were alike parts of his general plan of having around the school a variety of appliance for giving boys of varying taste happy and interesting occupation.] March 2oth. Back from Harrow this afternoon after a most interesting visit. Dr. and Mrs. Butler exceptionally hospitable and anxious to welcome me. Mrs. Butler charming; just the genuine, fresh, womanly simplicity that is both beauty igo LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1871 and work in one. Met old Munro * there, a most unexpected pleasure. He charged me like a bull on the Latin pronun- ciation question to my great amusement. Several of the masters invited to meet me. The singing in Harrow chapel was very hearty. Preached to the boys at evening service. March zind. A most comically triumphant day. The P s were brought over here to lunch by Mr. , my governor, a good man, a gentleman, and intelligent, but who has never seen the school, though he has been some six years or more a governor, and has been here at their meetings every year. Well, A - and I showed them all over, and I have scarcely left off laughing since they left at Mr. S 's gradual illumination as we went on. It is impossible to narrate except at great length and as a literary amusement, which I have no time for. But the manner in which he began discussing educational questions ex cathedra at luncheon, and subsided by degrees as he heard and saw more and more, was enough to make a cat laugh. But what a satire on human life and English enlightenment, that a real gentleman as he is, and no fool, should, after so many years in office too over me, come here in supreme ignorance of everything ! April 2%th. Went to see Walter Earle's house. He really is carrying out our principles in a very true way. The boys' part is the best both internally and architecturally in the elevation. This is very good, and shows heart work and feeling for the cause. I care for this. It is worth much. . . . May \-$th. An important meeting this morning. A very important one in sundry particulars. The English question was discussed with a temper and quiet good sense quite new. ... I quite felt a new feeling of having a body of men able to be dealt with, and willing to work together as an organised body. I trust it may be so. The result was important too. We decided to drop Greek entirely in the three lowest classes, with a view of getting better work done later, and to substitute for it English in three aspects. First, English Grammar and Language Analysis, in which English is to be worked as we have hitherto worked the classics ; secondly, English know- ledge of a common sort, e.g. air, physical geography, natural 1 H. A. J. Munro, Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge. 1871 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 191 history, etc. ; thirdly, a more complete preparation of the Latin lessons from an English point of view, etc., better translations, explanations of Latin by English. This is a great gain. I have waited many years for this, and now it begins to open. May 2$th. It is most painful to me this want of earnest- ness. I sometimes fear that though the old plan of severity made sad work of it sometimes, that the danger of making boy life too pleasant, even if done lovingly, is great also. September gth. Nothing is more fatal in a school than obtrusive religion. September loth. Eighteen years ago on this day I stepped in here as headmaster first, and headmaster of what ? O God, I thank Thee this day for all the blessing Thou hast given this work, for the mighty powers of life Thou hast breathed into this place. To-night I was in the schoolroom at the rehearsal of Samson. My heart felt deep and strong as I listened and took in the wonderful power there was in that work only. A full quarter of the school was there rendering that glorious music with disciplined, willing zeal as David led them. 6ew Soa. October \th. I was sorry to write to Mullins expressing my aversion to a Divinity prize. But, apart from that, I think a school can easily have too many prizes and scholar- ships, and am not at all anxious to set them going here. One must have some, just as a bait, but they don't reach the class I most care for, or only by accident, the good needy boys, though I admit they are the only public way of giving help. I think if the headmaster could take a few boys at lower terms it would be good. ... I don't like many scholarships. October $th. Well, at all events, I have founded this great school in its present state, and staked my whole life on it, " built my heart into the courses of the walls," for the cause of Christ's apostolic Church and His truth as represented best at this day by the Church of England. I believe in apostolic succession in spite of modern sneers, and sacramental grace in spite of scientific chemistry, and a new life in baptism in spite of Materialism. If the swine come into this school and this chapel of ours, so be it. God knows best whether His 192 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1871 Spirit shall dwell there or fly elsewhere. The world is wide. I pray when God's truth is not living in this place that the place may come to nought, and the walls be overthrown, unless God keep it as a witness of what once has been. October iyM. Been attacked again to let masters take more boys. . . . Year by year one has had to take a stand in adversity and prosperity against suggestions that are treason deep and deadly to the truth by which we live, and which would in early days have killed the life before it grew, and sooner or later would kill it now. November \ StA. Bought the Chequers Inn and premises ; at least have agreed to give the terms finally proposed, viz. ,1200, the present owner to have it enfranchised, and pay ^50 towards that. I have not 1200 pence, but it is of infinite importance getting hold of this now at a reasonable price, which it is, when the Midland Railway Station is going to make that road the thoroughfare of Uppingham, and a large inn or a fatal price would undoubtedly be the alternative. November 27 th. The eventful day over. One hundred boys exactly confirmed to-day; a very impressive sight and service. The bishop come and gone all satisfactory. Nothing untoward happened. I trust all now will go well. I don't know when I have felt a greater relief, and also a more exultant, thankful sense of present blessing than when I got back to my study after seeing and hearing that noble sight and service. Glory be to God. December $rd. To-day we have had a Communion like King Josiah's. One hundred and eighty-four boys actually present ; only about eight voluntarily absent. This was glorious and heart-cheering. God has sent me many little springs of comfort too. . . . On Friday morning my house invited us to a concert for that night (praepostor holiday), got up by our two houses, Haslam's and mine. So we went, and I had a most happy night. It was so dreamlike, when I recollected my own school life, to sit and listen to twenty of our sixty boys singing beautiful music of the best kind, with the rest applauding, and not thinking the pleasure complete unless we came and shared it, so dreamlike that I could have cried for joy at this proof of a new world and higher life. 1872 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 193 March $th. My return of health has made my spirit so much more capable of active effort, and less crushed by vexa- tions. This week we are going to have printed a detailed account of the money invested here since 1854, and the annual expenditure, an interesting document. The expendi- ture, I believe, reaches ,81,000 odds, against ^3000 by the Trust. March \^th. A most momentous day to my feelings. Yesterday I was in fearful dread that I had got on a nest of indecency. Some of this fear was dispelled last night, but enough remained to make me very anxious. Then this morning I received a most cheering letter from Mr. Robert Gladstone (written on the receipt of our statement of expendi- ture), and also the ^1500 he has lent me. Then came the Commissioner. After his session with the governors he spent the afternoon with me, and I showed him about. Our talk was very satisfactory to me. All is well I trust. . . . Then to-night I have investigated the indecency case, and find it very reassuring on the whole slight, far back, and not repeated. I am more thankful than I can tell, and quite happy to be spared the anguish of punishment. Thank God for this. To-day in the paper M - A 's death. I feel it much. He was one of my most influential captains, much good, much evil mixed, but the good prevailed, and I trust has prevailed. But it searches my heart. He filled such an important epoch in my school life. Pray God we meet in heaven, a happy meeting of old school memories and human life. My class gone, my work for the day done. A tight day over, but a day with much, very much to be thankful for in all ways. Thank God. March igth. It vexes me day by day to see the bottom of the school, which I lay so much stress on in my own heart, in such incompetent hands compared with what it might be, and yet I cannot bring myself to think that men who do honest work up to a certain mark ought to be got rid of when once established here because they failed to do better. But it is one of the trials of my life, and a daily one. April gth. Dr. N , the headmaster at Oscott, who was at my first school with me, came. I spent a pleasant four O 194 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1872 hours with him, and showed him all I had to show. He is a good man and thoughtful. I am glad to find an opening with the Romanists, and prize exceedingly any opportunity of showing Christian love and friendship which I am sure is the only true life. Hate is of the devil. May ist. Commemoration Day, a lovely summer day. My sermon over ; it has been on my mind very much. The day was to me solemn and sweet and sad, for I feel more and more both the burden of this great work and the want of money, and also the intense difficulty of getting any living life to work. . . . Yesterday was a bitter day. White came into me to offer to sell his property next our Quad for 700 a very reasonable sum and I agreed, intending if I could get it in no other way to borrow and mortgage. When I told Marie this she fairly broke down, and all the suppressed trial of our long debt came out, and I broke down too. We were getting near level when my gardens and book payments pulled us back again. It is so hard, when expenses are necessarily great, to get clear the moment interest begins to suck one's blood. However, I must now make a great effort. Grasmere must be given up after this year; we cannot give it up now; and I must never more, till I have something in hand, do any avoidable thing that entails outlay. May 2nd. A terrible blow has fallen on us to-day. Last night, perhaps even as I was writing the above, my dear friend Robert Gladstone suddenly went to his rest. I feel so lonely ; in a sense he was my only friend. In all the long battle here no man of power and wealth has been on my side, so that I could trust and feel support in him, till I knew Mr. Gladstone. His very existence on earth, though far away, was a feeling of support and friendship and power to which I believe I very largely owe the recovery of my health in these last years. The thought of his wisdom and friendship and strength has been such a rest to me. It has pleased God to take him, and I am as one turned out into the storm again. God help us all. I should be far more crushed if I had not felt God again and again taking earthly stays from us in our work here, and yet blessing it more and more. But the loss of his cheery, pleasant friendship is to me in itself irremediable, another of the great heavenly links pulling one up from earth. . . . 1872 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 195 May $th. Heard this morning some account of my dear friend's peaceful end. I feel more and more what he was to me. The funeral is on Tuesday. Still my heart is quieter, and his memory beginning to be an upward feeling already. I thank God for having given him me these years. I verily believe both health of body and calmness of mind have been partly restored to me through the having felt his sympathy and power, and the rest it brought. . . . Another glimpse to-day of God's great purposes. This afternoon R came in with an offer to him to go to the Deccan as tutor to the Nizam's sons and the young Mussulman nobles of the court. This is the first time in history such a thing has occurred, one of those great openings of that strange new world which this generation is seeing the birth of. I shall miss him terribly if he goes, yet if the post is what it seems, and his father willing, what can I do but tell him to go. For it may be a great world-hinge having such a Christian gentleman as he is the first in such a post. Truly this school work is wonderful. I may say with St. Paul, that God tells me " My grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is made perfect in weakness." But I want St Paul's gladness and faith and courage sadly, and get very downhearted and dull and spirit- less. Yet this has cheered me. May 2ist. Back from Wellington College last night after a very interesting visit. Luckily had a fine day, and enjoyed immensely a walk with Kempthorne and Benson in that glorious country glowing with spring brightness. I had some very satisfactory talks with Benson especially about the Conference and its prospects and work. The school, though in buildings a portentous mistake, has the wonderful advantage of some 300 or 400 acres of its own, and all the walks and freedom from annoyance that this gives. Benson himself is a good man ; much good work is clearly done there. May zZth. To-day the Haileybury match. The poor Haileybury team had us in first, and we got over 370 runs, and they have six wickets down for 26 runs or so. I am sorry for it They are a very nice set of fellows, and it will so spoil their outing. Moreover, I don't want the cricket to get too power- ful in the school here, and to be worshipped and made the end of life for a considerable section of the school. 196 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1872 May zgth. This afternoon (I cannot help connecting the fact with the cricket) H came to ask leave to hold a meeting of the praepostors at 7 P.M., and about eight came to my study to ask counsel, as six of the eleven, the leading six, met in one of their studies (a praepostor's) about a week ago, and sent out for wine and made claret cup. This is one of the most utter acts of treason and mock manly meanness I have ever had to deal with, considering the circumstances. The deliberate, quiet, lying betrayal of trust by leaders in the school. I greatly fear it belongs to the professional and cricket as a science, and the setting up a rival power in the school by having so much made of a thing not taught by a master. It is very grievous in any case, and I really don't know what to do. I should dismiss W at once, if the thing had come before me as found out by me and not through the praepostors. It is good finding the praepostors acting against the school heroes in this way. May 3ist. I was rejoiced at H 's saying they had the opinions of all worth having in the school on their side in bringing this before me. This is indeed something to thank God for. June \st. It really is glorious the good faith, on the whole, that is now rooted in the school. C - and H , the two principal characters of this late treason, have been to me to-night, and I have been thoroughly convinced of the general feeling and their own. When one considers that this sort of party is the thing in most schools, to have the praepostors denounce it, and the chief actors thoroughly acknowledge that it was good it should be so, come to me to express their sorrow and make friends if possible, and uphold this in the school, is a most happy victory of truth and right, and I feel very thankful. August gth. Home yesterday after a delightful holiday. What has not happened ! First of all God has broken the chains off me, and I am at last free from debt. Dear Cousin Maria Waldron has left me between ^3000 and ^4000, which lifts me well out of the prison. Glory be to God for His goodness. I know not how to be thankful enough. I can scarcely believe it yet. Our break-up day was fine, and all went off well, and on Saturday we got to Grasmere. The 1872 EXTRACTS FROM DIARY 197 time has passed like magic, like a dream. We took the Gladstone children about a good deal, and spent a happy time altogether, though his departure was often in our hearts, sad for us ; but why mourn for him ? I am unusually well in health, and I trust shall be able to do my work this half- year. We had many guests during the holidays, old boys and others. August nth. The first Sunday over with its sermon. Always a great relief, for I feel very doubtful and diffident about the fitness of many of my sermons. ... I feel it a grand thing to have such a true work to do as this. Even the holidays, when over, and I am once ,more at the work, do not seem too attractive. Yet I wish I was not so hunted, so pressed for time always. I think from what I hear that our system and constructive excellence are beginning to make some impression abroad. At all events encouraging stories reach us, which make my work here easier by making the assistant masters feel proud of their places. But what matters ? I feel sure of the living truth of the effort. . . . August i$th. Great efforts being made to get me to pardon the six of the eleven who played the traitor last half, and admit them to the old boys' supper, but I will not. A great principle is at stake, and the better the culprits the more their punishment will prove that no individual merit shall in such a case of treason avail. I will shoot my mutineers all the more mercilessly because the temptation was so slight, and their general character on the whole so good. W has been at me. He cannot see that this is no single arbitrary act, but a link in a chain of nineteen years' forging, every link of which has been forged on the same principle of kindly trust, and when the hour came, firm and unflinching judgment. He said I ought to take advice, that a jury of men eminent for goodness would pardon them, etc. I said I was acting on principle ; that I had had during all my early life here to act in defiance of the advice of men considered wise. That Uppingham was Uppingham because I had dared take my stand on new principles, and work them steadily out in opposi- tion to the opinions of others. He said " that means that you are infallible." " Not. so," I answered, " but that I understand a ruler's responsibility and accept it." 198 LIFE OF EDWARD THRING 1872 August 22nd. I do not know that i ever in my life heard anything more inspiriting and touching than C. E. Green's statements in talking with me before this, " that the stupidest boy who went out of Uppingham knew and felt he had a mission in life," and much more to the same purpose. It is a glorious work of the Spirit of the living God when this living feeling of true life catches fast hold of men like him, a feel- ing, a life, not a knowledge, power, or a school of thought, but a spirit of holy effort. Thank God for it August 26th. I have paid ;io to-day to P at Stoke Dry, on an arbitration for damage done by flood reserving, however, all legal rights for the future. This is the first real claim made in nineteen years. Not one has ever been able to frame a complaint against the boys into the definite shape of a demand for damages. P behaved very civilly in the matter., September tfh. I am almost amused at the way in which masters talk . . . quite forgetting, as they speak, that there was no school at all in its present sense till I pulled it out of the depths of the sea. I quite feel as a pearl diver might do who sees in after years the town jewellers with his big pearl in their shop, which he brought out of dark depths of the dangerous sea from the midst of the sharks and the waters at the risk of life, whilst they have sat in the shop and put a little setting and fixing work round it. October i8th. Sundry boys complained of for cutting their names in my house ; took them to the workshop, and set them each down with his penknife at a bit of oak to cut his name four times, amidst much grinning. It is a grand thing punish- ing without galling. . . . October 2oth. A quiet day ; my daughters' first com- munion to-day ; thank God. I am so grateful for it. To see the children quietly walking the path that leads to Christ is a great blessing. How small other causes would seem if one felt sure that the children were full of truth and love of Christ. October 2isf. *A.vOp