many of the great families are in tears; and indeed it makes the town appear melancholy and dismal. Let it be said, for the honour of our sex, there are no drums, no operas; and plays are unfrequented; and there is not a woman in England, except Lady Brown, that has a song or tune in her head; but indeed her ladyship is very unhappy at the suspension of operas. Your acquaintance, Mrs. Hammond, I hear, is in high spirits. Lord Suffolk's son, Mr. Thomas Howard, is recovering from the small-pox. My poor sister is to stay in the country till after Christmas; is not that grievous? I am, dear Sir, your most sincere friend, and E. MONTAGU. To Mrs. Freind. DEAR MADAM, 1746. 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 and 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 and 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 unmeritorious 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 to be almost adored; for in that scene she appeared almost more than human. But this subject is too affecting, nor can I as yet 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. To the Dutchess of Portland. 1747. My dearest Lady Dutchess's letter did not arrive till long after I had wished to hear from her; however, as I had accounts of your Grace's and your family's welfare from my other correspondents, I did not feel the anxiety I should other wise have suffered. My long indisposition hindered my writing to any one, so that I am now an insolvent debtor, and though I write every day till I am so tired I can hardly hold up my head, I am still on the wrong side of the balance. Pray has your Grace read the most melancholy of poems, Mr. Lyttelton's Verses on his Wife? I think they are extremely pretty; they describe a most delicate and tender affection. I must recommend to you Mr. Melmoth's translation of Pliny's letters; I think they will please your Grace; you will find sentiments of friendship and generosity that will touch a heart like yours: they are not in the epistolary style of modern letters, nor abound with turns of wit like French writers; but noble and elevated sentiments, and dignity of expression, will make up for the absence of little ornaments and embellishments. Your Grace will see how a great man was employed in the service of his country, and how engaged in domestic duties; his |