It was obviously impossible for one person to teach all these subjects properly, and it is not surprising that Miss Beale soon wrote home that she found the work hard; she does not seem to have complained of anything else. She said, among other things, that she took eight Bible-classes every week, two of which consisted of about fifty girls at a time. Her father replied with the evident intention of bracing and cheering:— ‘Employment is a blessed state, it is to the body what sleep is to the mind.... I cannot be sorry when I hear you are fully employed. I am sure it will be usefully, and then by and bye when the body and the mind alike have perished, and work and sleep are no longer needed, but the soul shall burst into existence, how shall we wonder at the willing slaves we have been during our probation, for the meat which perishes. You see I am thoughtful,—it is fit.... I feel I can bear your being so far and so entirely away, with some philosophy, and I am delighted that your letters bear the tone of contentment, and that you have been taken notice of by people who seem disposed to be kind to you.... You will see I have not a thing to tell you, and I cannot now write any more about thick coming fancies, but give an old man’s love to all your pupils, and may they make their Fathers as happy as you do. God bless you, my dear Dorothea.’ This letter was written in March 1857. Shortly after came another for her birthday on the 21st, showing how much her absence from home was felt, and that the parents were doubtful if she were in the right place. ‘God bless you and give you many happy birthdays. I fear the present is not one of the most agreeable; it is spent at least in the path of what you considered duty, and so will never be looked back upon but with pleasure.... Do not, however, my dear girl, think of remaining long in a position which may be irksome to you, for thus I think it will hardly be profitable to others, and indeed I question whether you would maintain your health where the employment was so great and duty the only stimulus to action. You have heard me often quote: “The hand’s best sinew ever is the heart.”’ In May another letter is evidently called forth by some expression of a longing to be at home, and perhaps by hints of difficulties from Dorothea. ‘_May 1857._ ‘I think I feel the weeks go more slowly than you do. I long to see you again very much. I cannot get reconciled to your position and feel satisfied that it is your place.... God bless you, my dear girl, and blunt your feelings for the rubs of the world, and quicken your vision for the beautiful and unseen of the world above us.’ The last words show how well her father knew the sensitive nature hurt even by trifles, and prone to take small matters too seriously.