The illness of the princess dowager prevented George III. from taking any decided action on behalf of his sister. On the morning of February 8 the princess departed this life. On the previous evening her physician felt her pulse, and told her it was more regular than it had been for some time; her Highness answered, "Yes, and I think I shall have a good night's rest." She then embraced the king, and he observed nothing particular in her except that she kissed him with greater warmth and affection than usual. The king afterwards retired to a private room with the physician, who told him that her Highness could not outlive the morning, which determined his Majesty on staying at Carlton House all night. He did not see his royal mother any more till she was dead, for she remained very quiet all the night, and gave no token of death, till a few minutes before she expired, when she laid her hand upon her heart and went off without a groan. His Majesty was then informed, and he came in and took his mother's hand, kissed it, and burst into tears; a short time after which he returned to St. James's.[57] There is but little to add to the character of this princess than that communicated in the opening chapter. When she was gone to a state far superior to mortal praise or blame, where the lying voice of calumny and faction could not reach her, people began to discover that "never was a more amiable, a more innocent, or a more benevolent princess." It was publicly denied that she had interfered in the politics of the country, or influenced the king in affairs of state. She discharged, to the utmost of her power and out of her own income, the large private debts of her husband. Her charity was extensive; and it was stated that she gave away upwards of £10,000 a year, and that so secretly, that the recipients of her bounty would only learn who their benefactress was through the cessation of her charities. Hence it is not surprising that she made no will, for she had nothing to leave. Though the Princess of Wales constantly read all the public papers till within a few weeks of her death, the unmerited abuse with which they teemed never excited in her the least emotion of anger or resentment; nor was she ever heard to speak disparagingly of any individual. She was steady in her friendships, and so indulgent a mistress to her servants, that she was ever anxious to give them as little trouble as possible. Her understanding was clear and solid; her temper even, serene, and placid, and her religion real and unaffected, which enabled her to meet death with a truly Christian resignation. To the very last minute of her life she was sensible and composed, and gave apparent signs of satisfaction at the truly filial concern which the royal pair displayed, and the great attention they paid her in her last extremity. A writer in the _Gentleman's Magazine_ sums up the character of the Princess of Wales so fairly, that I am tempted to extract the concluding passage:--