Johnson fully illustrated the charitable side of Mrs. Montagu’s character, when he said, in 1776, in reply to a hint that her liberality was pharisaical, “I have seen no beings who do as much good from benevolence as she does from whatever motive.” Johnson subsequently was less charitable and less accurate. Mrs. Montagu’s letters abound with references to her complete ignorance of Greek and her small knowledge of Latin. “But,” said Johnson, “she is willing you should think she knows them, but she does not say she does.” A hundred times she wrote that she did not. Johnson’s were hardly the “respectful sentiments” he professed to have when he begged for a copy of her engraved portrait, as a reward for his love and adoration. CHAPTER VIII. Mrs. Montagu respected her gentle husband’s memory in the way he would have approved—by attending to the business which his death left on her hands. She withdrew to Sandleford, not to cover her face, but to woo the fresh air. She then travelled to Denton Castle, to plunge into occupation, and to show her steward that her recent grief had not rendered her insensible to her interests. From the castle, or hall (it is called by both names), she wrote on July the 10th, 1775, the following, not at all woebegone, but sensible, letter to her sister-in-law: “... I know your good-nature will have suggested to you, and accepted as an excuse for my long delay of writing, the various business which my present situation occasions. My long and very melancholy confinement much affected my health and spirits. The fresh air and constant exercise at Sandleford proved of great service to me, and encouraged me to venture on a much longer journey. On the 30th of June, I set out on my expedition to Northumberland, and, on the 3d of July, at noon, I got as far as my estate at Burniston. Exactly opposite to some of my land, there is a tolerable inn. I eat a hasty dinner, and taking my steward with me, went over as many of the farms as I could that night, and sent invitations to my tenants to dine with me the next day. “Mine Host, by sending to the neighbouring markets, assembled together sirloins of beef, legs of mutton, loins of veal, chickens, ducks, and green peas, which, with ham, pigeon-pie, tarts, and custard, fill’d up every chink of table, and, I believe, of stomach. Unfortunately, there was not a room large enough to contain all my good friends, so the women and the young lasses dined with me, and the men with the steward.