rhaps to the Swan River. The West Indians are irreparably
ruined if the Bill passes. Papa says that in the case of its passing,
nobody in his senses would think of even attempting the culture of
sugar, and that they had better hang weights to the sides of the
island of Jamaica and sink it at once. Don't you think certain heads
might be found heavy enough for the purpose? No insinuation, I assure
you, against the Administration, in spite of the dagger in their right
hands. Mr. Atwood seems to me a demi-god of ingratitude! So much for
the 'fickle reek of popular breath' to which men have erected their
temple of the winds--who would trust a feather to it? I am almost more
sorry for poor Lord Grey who is going to ruin us, than for our poor
selves who are going to be ruined. You will hear that my 'Prometheus
and other Poems' came into light a few weeks ago--a fortnight ago, I
think. I dare say I shall wish it out of the light before I have done
with it. And I dare say Henrietta is wishing me anywhere, rather than
where I am. Certainly I have past _all bounds_. Do write soon, and
tell us everything about Mr. Martin and yourself. And ever believe me,
dearest Mrs. Martin,

Your affectionate
E.B. BARRETT.

[Footnote 18: Alfred, the fifth brother.]

_To Mrs. Martin_
Sidmouth: September 7, 1833.

My dearest Mrs. Martin,--Are you a _little_ angry _again_? I do hope
not. I should have written long ago if it had not been for Henrietta;
and Henrietta would have written very lately if it had not been for
me: and we must beg of you to forgive us both for the sake of each
other. Thank you for the kind letter which I have been so tardy in
thanking you for, but which was not, on that account, the less gladly
received. Do believe how much it pleases me _always_ to see and read
dear Mrs. Martin's handwriting. But I must try to tell you some
less ancient truths. We are still in the ruinous house. Without any
poetical fiction, the walls are too frail for even _me_, who enjoy the
situation in a most particularly particular manner, to have any desire
to pass the winter within them. One wind we have had the privilege of
hearing already; and down came the tiles while we were at dinner, and
made us all think that down something else was coming. We have had
one chimney pulled down to prevent it from tumbling down; and have
received especial injunctions from the bricklayers not to lean too
much out of the windows, for fear the walls should fo