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CHAPTER XI
LIFE AS A TEACHER AT MANNHEIM

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To her Mother she writes:

“Sept. 15th, 1862.

My own Darling,

Though I must now be rather more economical of space (for I can send but ¼ instead of ½ oz) I cannot resist beginning a fresh letter to you, having but just posted my last, with one also to Daddy. I am afraid Mr. Bevan must be again disappointed to learn that there is still no kind of prospect of starvation for me—quite the contrary.

I will tell you our plans as far as I know them yet. We get up, as you know, at 5.30 a.m., breakfast at 6.30, begin work at 7. At 10 we have bread handed round, then at one we dine, very well, I think. … At 3 we teachers (!) have cups of coffee, and at 5 or 6 some grapes before going out for a walk. At 6 tea (or perhaps at 7) and then at 8.30 a regular meat supper. So you see we are not so very badly off—indeed it seems to me to be something going all day almost! …

Mother, I can’t lie down without telling you of the very beautiful, soothing influence one thing has (perhaps unexpectedly) over me. I mean the perfect lovingness and charity in which we all of such opposite faiths live together, and have just knelt and prayed together. There seems to me something so inexpressibly touching and happy in it—everyone seems so loving to the rest, so far from cavilling for ‘words and names’: each so absolutely free and all so far from seeking to proselytize. At meals we stand round the table—‘Nous voulons prier, mesdemoiselles,’ and in silence everyone together thanks God ‘in his own tongue’—one marking only that some cross themselves silently and some do not. Then at night we kneel together—we have a fine loving German hymn, and a text for us all—words lovingly pronounced by our Roman Catholic head that yet every Presbyterian minister might say. There seems to me something so inexpressibly soothing in this union—so far stronger than all differences. I can hardly tell you the rest and refreshment it is to me now, worn and weary as my spirit is. It struck me very much in its beauty tonight as Miss von Palaus pronounced—‘There is but one name given under heaven among men whereby we may be saved’, and we all received it on our knees—Protestants and Romanists, Unitarians and Trinitarians—each ‘in his own tongue.’ Was it not beautiful how just that name bound us all together—Christians—seeking at least the spirit of Christ who loved us all—our Master—that we might ‘love one another’. …

I am charmed to learn the Scotch girl, Janet McDonald, has learned both Latin and Algebra—both wonderful acquirements here—and I look forward to perhaps doing some work with her, if she gets on well enough with other things.

2 p.m. Tuesday. The politeness of these girls is really quite refreshing. Last night, going up to my room after dark, there were several girls at the candle-stand, and, when I asked for a candle, one of them lighted one, and, with a reverence and ‘Permettez-moi, mademoiselle,’ carried it the whole way upstairs for me in spite of my efforts to get hold of it—it being quite out of her way. … 7 p.m. Well, Mother darling, I wonder if you can sympathize in my intense exaltation and delight at the—for the first time in my life—literally earning my bread—something like ‘My First Penny’, you know. I have had my ‘surveillance de musique’, but am longing quite childishly for the commencement of my special work—I see teaching all around, and am just wild to be at it. Can Mother understand and sympathize?

Thursday 18th. My letter at last. I have been several times to the post in hopes of it. … Today I have had one lesson, and am just going to give another—delicious! It’s really like oats to a horse who has been kept a year on hay. Miss Garrett was right enough when she said, ‘Get teaching!’ I quite laugh at myself to feel how radiant I am with delight at being again in harness.”

To Miss Walker she writes:

The Life of Sophia Jex-Blake

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