circumstance in these words: 'I am glad your children will need no other governess, for as it is the greatest part of your duty, so the occupation will be a noble entertainment, and the best diversion and cure for your wasted and wearied spirit.' It is to Bishop Burnet that she describes her sensations on visiting her husband's tomb at Chenies: 'I did not go to seek the living among the dead, for I well knew that I should see him no more, wherever I went, and I had made a covenant with myself not to break out into unreasonable and fruitless passion, but quicken my contemplation of his happiness.'
There are two classes of mourners most prevalent in the world, those who give way to enervating emotion, nursing and encouraging the outward expression of grief, and those who fly to some frivolous and unworthy expedient to 'lull the lone heart and banish care.' To neither of these classes did Lady Russell belong; she faced her affliction bravely but submissively, believing with the poet[1] that
'They who lack time to mourn, lack time to mend.
Eternity mourns that.'
She spent a great deal of her time at Woburn, with her parents-in-law, where she and her children were ever welcome; often meditating, and frequently delaying her return to the once happy home of sweet Stratton. But she was detained at Woburn first by the death of her mother-in-law, and then by the dangerous illness of her son, which crushing anxiety she thus turns to good account. Speaking of the possibility of losing 'the little creature,' she writes to Dr. Fitzwilliam, 'God has made me see the folly of imagining I had nothing left, the deprivation of which could be matter of much anguish, or its possession of any considerable refreshment.' But the blow was averted and the boy recovered. She left Woburn, and instead of going direct to Stratton she started for Totteridge
- ↑ Philip van Artevelde.
