We came to Sidmouth for two months, and you see we are here still; and when we are likely to go is as uncertain as ever.  I like the place, and some of its inhabitants.  I like the greenness and the tranquillity and the sea; and the solitude of one dear seat which hangs over it, and which is too far or too lonely for many others to like besides myself.  We are living in a thatched cottage, with a green lawn bounded by a Devonshire lane.  Do you know what that is?  Milton did when he wrote of ‘hedgerow elms and hillocks green.’  Indeed Sidmouth is a nest among elms; and the lulling of the sea and the shadow of the hills make it a peaceful one.  But there are no majestic features in the country.  It is all green and fresh and secluded; and the grandeur is concentrated upon the ocean without deigning to have anything to do with the earth.  I often find my thoughts where my footsteps once used to be! but there is no use in speaking of that....

Pray believe me, affectionately yours,
E.B.  BARRETT.

To Mrs. Martin Sidmouth:  Friday, December 19, 1834 [postmark].

My dearest Mrs. Martin,—...  We have lately had deep anxiety with regard to our dear papa.  He left us two months ago to do his London business:  and a few weeks since we were told by a letter from him that he was ill; he giving us to understand that his complaint was of a rheumatic character.  By the next coach, we were so daring (I can scarcely understand how we managed it) as to send Henry to him:  thinking that it would be better to be scolded than to suffer him to be alone and in suffering at a London hotel.  We were not scolded:  but my prayer to be permitted to follow Henry was condemned to silence:  and what was said being said emphatically, I was obliged to submit, and to be

thankful for the unsatisfactory accounts which for many days afterwards we received....  I cannot help being anxious and fearful.  You know he is all left to us—­and that without him we should indeed be orphans and desolate.  Therefore you may well know what feelings those are with which we look back upon his danger; and forwards to any threatening of a return of it....  It may not be so.  Do not, when you write, allude to my fearing about it.  Our only feeling now should certainly be a deep feeling of thankfulness towards that God of all consolation Who has permitted us to know His love in the midst of many griefs; and Who while He has often cast upon us the sorrow and the shadow, has yet enabled us to recognise it as that ’shadow of the wings of the Almighty,’ wherein we may ‘rejoice.’  We shall probably see our dear papa next week.  At least we know that he is only waiting for strength and that he is already able to go out—­I fear, not to walk out.  Here we are all well.  Belle Vue is sold, and we shall probably have to leave it in March:  but I do not think that we shall do so before.  Henrietta is still very anxious to leave Sidmouth