two or three ‘smaller things,’ by the success of which I shall have made myself of ‘some account’ in the ’commonwealth of letters,’) and afterwards in my ’works’—­not for the ‘vanity’ of the thing (however) I will say, but for the ‘use’ it may be of to the ‘public’; for, (as one well observeth,) ’though glory always followeth virtue, yet it should be considered only as its shadow.’

* And here, by way of note, permit me to say, that no ‘sermon’ I ever composed cost me half the ‘pains’ that this letter hath done—­but I knew your great ‘appetite’ after, as well as ‘admiration’ of, the ’antient wisdom,’ which you so justly prefer to the ’modern’—­and indeed I join with you to think, that the ‘modern’ is only ‘borrowed,’ (as the ‘moon’ doth its light from the ‘sun,’) at least, that we ‘excel’ them in nothing; and that our ‘best cogitations’ may be found, generally speaking, more ‘elegantly’ dressed and expressed by them.

      ’Contemnit laudem virtus, licet usque sequatur
          Gloria virtutem, corpus ut umbra suum.’

A very pretty saying, and worthy of all men’s admiration.

And now, (’most worthy Sir,’ my very good friend and patron,) referring the whole to ‘your’s,’ and to your ‘two brothers,’ and to ’young Mr. Harlowe’s’ consideration, and to the wise consideration of good ’Madam Harlowe,’ and her excellent daughter, ‘Miss Arabella Harlowe’; I take the liberty to subscribe myself, what I ‘truly am,’ and ’every shall delight to be,’ in ‘all cases,’ and at ‘all times,’

Your and their most ready and obedient as well as faithful servant, Elias Brand.

LETTER LXVII

Mr. Lovelace, to John Belford, Esq. [In answer to letter LXIV.  Of this volume.] WEDN.  Morn.  Sept. 6.

And is she somewhat better?—­Blessings upon thee without number or measure!  Let her still be better and better!  Tell me so at least, if she be not so:  for thou knowest not what a joy that poor temporary reprieve, that she will hold out yet a day or two, gave me.

But who told this hard-hearted and death-pronouncing doctor that she will hold it no longer?  By what warrant says he this?  What presumption in these parading solemn fellows of a college, which will be my contempt to the latest hour of my life, if this brother of it (eminent as he is deemed to be) cannot work an ordinary miracle in her favour, or rather in mine!

Let me tell thee, Belford, that already he deserves the utmost contempt, for suffering this charming clock to run down so low.  What must be his art, if it could not wind it up in a quarter of the time he has attended her, when, at his first visits, the springs and wheels of life and motion were so god, that they seemed only to want common care and oiling!

I am obliged to you for endeavouring to engage her to see me.  ’Twas acting like a friend.  If she had vouchsafed me that favour, she should have seen at her feet the most abject adorer that ever kneeled to justly-offended beauty.