The Montagus remained quietly at Sandleford till Parliament met.
THE DEATH OF MRS. ROBINSON
At the end of April, or commencement of May, Mrs. Montagu lost her excellent and amiable mother from a return of her former illness. I have no letters till the following one, undated, in reply for a letter of condolence of Mrs. Freind’s:—
“Dear Madam,
“The tender hand of a friend does all in the power of human art to heal the wounds given by affliction. That you love me, and interest yourself for me, must on all occasions give me comfort. It is not consistent with duty or prudence to be ever considering one’s loss with those circumstances of tenderness that make one unable to bear up against it, so I will say as little as possible of the dear, tender parent, and endeavour to recollect her only as a most excellent woman, and try to become good by her example. She concluded with an heroic constancy the most virtuous life. From her prosperity she drew arguments of resignation and patience, and expressed the greatest thankfulness that Providence had lent her so many blessings without repining that they were to be taken away. How few are they that do not grow proud and stubborn by that indulgence which made her humble and resigned! She had spent her life in doing those just, right things that bring peace at the last; and after living so many years in the world, left it with the greatest innocence of soul and integrity of heart I ever knew. How much superior is this to the forced and immeritorious innocence of a sequestered Cloister; for after having bent to all the duties of human life, she had not contracted any of the vices or bad affections of it; nor had she the least tincture of the secret faults of malice or envy which often lurk about the hearts of those who are esteemed persons of unblameable conduct. Through every action of her life she deserved to be loved and esteemed, and in her death almost to be adored, for in that scene she appeared almost more than human. But this subject is too affecting, nor can I think of my final separation from such a friend with the resignation I ought.
“I beg you would think favourably of a journey to Sandleford: you cannot imagine the pleasure it would give me to see you there. We are still roasting in this dusty town, but hope a very few days will carry us into the country.
“I am, dear Mrs. Freind’s
“Most affectionate cousin,
and sincere friend,
“Eliz. Montagu.”