BILNEY, NEAR LYNN, NORFOLK, Monday, March 20th, 1848.
MY DEAREST HARRIET,

I may or may not be very nervous on the occasion of my Saturday's
reading at Highgate. [It was the first I ever gave--a mere experiment to
test my powers for the purpose; was in a small room, and before an
audience in which were some of my intimate friends.] It will probably
depend upon whether I am tolerably well or not, but I trust I shall not
annoy you, my dear, if you are with me....

Did I tell you that I met Mr. Swinton at Lady Castlereagh's the other
evening, and that he very amiably invited me to go and see his pictures
before they went to the exhibition?--so perhaps we may see them together
when we come to town. I had an application from an artist the other day,
who is painting a picture from "Macbeth," to sit for his Lady for him;
and I have undertaken to do so, which is a bore, and therefore very
good-natured of me.... This place itself is pretty, though the country
round it is not. The weather is cold and rainy and uncomfortable, and I
shall be almost glad to get back to London, and to see you. "Now, isn't
that strange?" as Benedick says.

I am afraid, moreover, that my errand here, which will cost me both
trouble and money, will not answer too well to the poor people I wish to
serve. Only think of their manager making them _pay_ for the use of the
theatre at a rate that will swallow up the best part of what I can bring
into it for them. Isn't it a shame?... This is an out-of-the-way part of
the world enough, as I think you will allow, when I tell you that _one_
policeman suffices for _three_ parishes, and that his authority is
oftenest required to reclaim wandering poultry. Moreover, the curate,
who does duty in both this and the adjoining parish for sixty pounds a
year, preaches against his patron, whose pew is immediately under the
pulpit, designating him by the general exemplary and illustrative title
of the "abandoned profligate." The latter thus vaguely indicated
individual is a middle-aged widower of perhaps not immaculate morals,
but who, as lord of the manor and chief landed proprietor in these
parts, is allowed to be charitable and kind enough,--which, however,
will not, I am afraid, save him--at least in the opinion of his
clergyman. The country people are remarkably ignorant, unenlightened,
_unpolitical_, unpoetical rustics, but remarkably well off, paying only
three pounds a year for excellent f