The lady shut herself up at six o’clock yesterday afternoon; and intends not to see company till seven or eight this; not even her nurse—­imposing upon herself a severe fast.  And why?  It is her birth-day!—­Every birth-day till this, no doubt, happy!—­What must be her reflections!—­ What ought to be thine!

What sport dost thou make with my aspirations, and my prostrations, as thou callest them; and with my dropping of the banknote behind her chair!  I had too much awe of her at the time, to make it with the grace that would better have become my intention.  But the action, if awkward, was modest.  Indeed, the fitter subject for ridicule with thee; who canst no more taste the beauty and delicacy of modest obligingness than of modest love.  For the same may be said of inviolable respect, that the poet says of unfeigned affection,

          I speak!  I know not what!—­
      Speak ever so:  and if I answer you
      I know not what, it shows the more of love. 
      Love is a child that talks in broken language;
      Yet then it speaks most plain.

The like may be pleaded in behalf of that modest respect which made the humble offerer afraid to invade the awful eye, or the revered hand; but awkwardly to drop its incense behind the altar it should have been laid upon.  But how should that soul, which could treat delicacy itself brutally, know any thing of this!

But I am still more amazed at thy courage, to think of throwing thyself in the way of Miss Howe, and Miss Arabella Harlowe!—­Thou wilt not dare, surely, to carry this thought into execution!

As to my dress, and thy dress, I have only to say, that the sum total of thy observation is this:  that my outside is the worst of me; and thine the best of thee:  and what gettest thou by the comparison?  Do thou reform the one, I’ll try to mend the other.  I challenge thee to begin.

Mrs. Lovick gave me, at my request, the copy of a meditation she showed me, which was extracted by the lady from the scriptures, while under arrest at Rowland’s, as appears by the date.  The lady is not to know that I have taken a copy.

You and I always admired the noble simplicity, and natural ease and dignity of style, which are the distinguishing characteristics of these books, whenever any passages from them, by way of quotation in the works of other authors, popt upon us.  And once I remember you, even you, observed, that those passages always appeared to you like a rich vein of golden ore, which runs through baser metals; embellishing the work they were brought to authenticate.

Try, Lovelace, if thou canst relish a Divine beauty.  I think it must strike transient (if not permanent) remorse into thy heart.  Thou boastest of thy ingenuousness:  let this be the test of it; and whether thou canst be serious on a subject too deep, the occasion of it resulting from thyself.

Meditation
Saturday, July 15.