The poor lady had now more serious matters claiming her attention than quarrels or compliments with Johnson. Her kind-hearted and now aged husband had long been slowly dying. His last hour seemed now approaching. In May, 1775, Mrs. Chapone, in a letter to Mrs. Delany, described Mrs. Montagu as being “in a most distressful situation.” Mr. Montagu, “instead of sinking easily, as might have been expected from so long and gradual a decline, suffers great struggle, and has a fever attended with deliriums, which are most dreadfully affecting to Mrs. Montagu. If this scene should continue, I tremble for the effects of it on her tender frame; but I think it must very soon have an end, and she will then reconcile herself to a loss so long expected, tho’ I doubt not she will feel it very sincerely. He is entitled to her highest esteem and gratitude, and, I believe, possesses them both.” The aged philomath might have been the original of the legendary mathematician, who, having been induced to read “Paradise Lost,” asked, on reaching the last line of the poem, “Well, what does it prove?” Mr. Montagu’s wonted fires and ruling passion partook exclusively of a mathematical ardour. His wife, who had, previous to her husband’s fatal illness, passed from the most sincere spirit of free inquiry into the equally sincere acceptance of orthodoxy, was very anxious that her husband should be of the same faith with herself before they were parted for ever. She begged Beattie to effect this desired consummation, if it were possible. The aged mathematician was too much, however, for the minister and his clever wife together. “To her great concern,” says Beattie, in a letter to Doctor Laing, “he set too much value on mathematical evidence, and piqued himself too much on his knowledge in that science. He took it into his head, too, that I was a mathematician, though I was at a great deal of pains to convince him to the contrary.” Mr. Montagu died in May, 1775. The poor gentleman’s death was immediately made the opportunity for speculation on the part of his friends, as to the prospects of his widow. “Mr. Edward Montagu is dead,” wrote Mrs. Delany. “He has left his widow everything, both real and personal: only charging it with a legacy of £3,000. If her heart prove as good as her head, she may do an abundance of good. Her possessions are very great.” Walpole speculated in another fashion on this gentleman’s demise. He wrote to Mason: “The husband of Mrs. Montagu, of Shakespearshire, is dead, and has left her an estate of £7,000 a year in her own power. Will you come and be candidate for her hand? I conclude it will be given to a champion at some Olympic games; and were I she, I would sooner marry you than Pindar!”