melworth-hall.

The intelligence in your last has given a severe shock to my feelings; – indeed, Augustus, Mr. Montgomery was dear to me as a friend – as a father. – His character was such/ as commanded at once the veneration, esteem, and love of every person capable of those sensations: his converse, – instructive, yet entertaining; fraught with genuine piety, and untinctured with a single gloomy idea, – seemed often to raise his mind, and carry him, if I may use the expression, out of himself, into the blissful regions of immortality. He is now completely happy; and we, who mourn his departure from the world, demonstrate not so much disinterested affection for him as regard for ourselves. Alas! my friend, self-love is too often the reigning principle within us: it is that, alone, which excites our sorrow for the loss of a pious and amiable friend. We recall to our ideas how greatly his virtues assisted to sweeten our own enjoyments; and, in our grief for the loss of such assistance, we renounce that consolation which the certainty of his everlasting felicity ought to afford us. I speak from experience: in Mr. Montgomery's death, I have lost one of the most useful and pleasing friends; tho' I desire to be submissive to the will of him who does all things well. Happy, thrice happy spirit! I would/ congratulate thee on thy accession to everlasting joy. Oh how do I aspire to join thee! to join my Matilda too, whose gentle spirit fancy represents as hovering over her Edward, guarding him from evil, and directing him into the paths of peace and pleasantness. Fitzmaurice, there are few things that afford more delight than the supposition that the spirits of our departed friends are permitted to become our guardian angels: it may be deemed an enthusiastic notion, but it affords a pleasure which I could not resign without infinite reluctance.