But, dear Harriet, do not, I entreat you, challenge me to put into words those thoughts which, in us all, must be unutterable. If I can speak of nothing that I feel deeply but with an indistinctness and inefficiency that make me feel sick as with a bodily effort of straining at what I cannot reach, how can I utter, or write, upon such a subject as this! Do not, I beg, ask me such questions, at least in writing; speaking to you, there might be times—seldom, indeed, but some—when I might stammer out part of what I felt on such a subject; but I cannot write about it—it is impossible.
READING AT ETON. I have many things to tell you, for which I am too tired to-night, but I will tell you them to-morrow. God bless you. It has just occurred to me that I have a morning reading to-morrow, and some visits to pay first, and I must go to the workhouse and see that boy once more, and satisfy myself that whatever he is put to hereafter is his own choice; and so I shall have no time to write to you to-morrow, and therefore I will finish my letter to-night.... I had an application from Dr. Hawtrey, the Provost of Eton, through Mary Ann Thackeray, the other day, to give some readings to the Eton boys, which I have delightedly agreed to do—but of course refused to be paid for what will be such a great pleasure to me; whereupon Dr. Hawtrey writes that my "generosity to his boys takes his breath away." I think I ought to pay for what will be so very charming as reading Shakespeare to those children....
I had a letter from Mrs. Jameson yesterday, from whom I have heard nothing since she left my house....
And now, dear Hal, I have told you all my news,—oh no, I haven't either:—I went last night, it being my holiday, to hear Mr. Warren, the author of "Ten Thousand a Year," and the Recorder of Hull, address the members of the Mechanics' Institute on the duties, privileges, difficulties, dignity, and consolations of labor. I was greatly delighted. I sat on the platform, opposite that large concourse of working men and women—laborers well acquainted by daily experience with the subject of the eloquent speaker's discourses,—and was deeply touched by the silent attention and intelligent interest with which, for two hours, they listened to his admirable address.
I have got it, and shall bring it down and read it to you. Good-bye. Do not fail to let me know what I can do for Dorothy. Good-night.
Ever as ever yours,
Fanny.
Hull, Thursday, December 2nd, 1847.
My chest and throat, my dear Hal, are well. I have still a slight cough, but nothing to signify....
I never acted in all Yorkshire before. I do not know why, during my "first theatrical career," I did not, but so it was. My harvest now is not likely to be very great, for the prices at the theatres in Leeds and Hull are very low, the theatres not large, and so habitually deserted that an occasional attraction of a few nights hardly has time to rouse the people from their general indifference to these sorts of exhibitions. However, I am both living and saving, and am content.