ELEVENTHLY, That if she take the advice of 'Horace,'

'Fortiaque adversis opponite pectora rebus,'

it will delight her 'hereafter' (as 'Virgil' saith) to 'revoke her past

troubles':

'----Forsan & hæc olim meminisse juvabit.'

And, to the same purpose, 'Juvenal' speaking of the 'prating joy' of

mariners, after all their 'dangers are over':

'Gaudent securi narrare pericula nautæ.'

Which suiting the case so well, you'll forgive me, Sir, for 'popping

down' in 'English metre,' as the 'translative impulse' (pardon a new

word, and yet we 'scholars' are not fond of 'authenticating new' words)

came upon me 'uncalled for':

The seaman, safe on shore, with joy doth tell

What cruel dangers him at sea befell.

With 'these,' Sir, and an 'hundred more' wise 'adages,' which I have

always at my 'fingers' end,' will I (when reduced to 'form' and 'method')

entertain Miss; and as she is a 'well-read,' and (I might say, but for

this 'one' great error) a 'wise' young lady, I make no doubt but I shall

'prevail' upon her, if not by 'mine own arguments,' by those of 'wits'

and 'capacities' that have a 'congeniality' (as I may say) to 'her own,'

to take to heart,

----Nor of the laws of fate complain,

Since, though it has been cloudy, now't clears up again.----

Oh! what 'wisdom' is there in these 'noble classical authors!' A 'wise

man' will (upon searching into them,) always find that they speak 'his'

sense of 'men' and 'things.' Hence it is, that they so readily occur to

my 'memory' on every occasion--though this may look like 'vanity,' it is

too true to be omitted; and I see not why a man may not 'know these

things of himself,' which 'every body' seeth and 'saith of him'; who,

nevertheless, perhaps know not 'half so much as he,' in other matters.

I know but of 'one objection,' Sir, that can lie against my going; and

that will arise from your kind 'care' and 'concern' for the 'safety of my

person,' in case that 'fierce' and 'terrible man,' the wicked Mr.

Lovelace, (of whom every one standeth in fear,) should come cross me, as

he may be resolved to try once more to 'gain a footing in Miss's

affections': but I will trust in 'Providence' for 'my safety,' while I

shall be engaged in a 'cause so worthy of my function'; and the 'more'

trust in it, as he is a 'learned man' as I am told.

Strange too, that so 'vile a rake' (I hope he will never see this!)

should be a 'learned man'; that is to say, that a 'learned man' may be a

'sly sinner,' and take opportunities, 'as they come in his way'--which,

however, I do assure you, 'I never did,'

I repeat, that as he is a 'learned man,' I shall 'vest myself,' as I may

say, in 'classical armour'; beginning 'meekly' with him (for, Sir,

'bravery' and 'meekness' are qualities 'very consistent with each other,'

and in no persons so shiningly 'exert' themselves, as in the 'Christian

priesthood'; beginning 'meekly' with him, I say) from Ovid,

'Corpora magnanimo satis est protrasse leoni:'

So that, if I should not be safe behind the 'shield of mine own

prudence,' I certainly should be behind the 'shields' of the

'ever-admirable classics': of 'Horace' particularly; who, being a 'rake'

(and a 'jovial rake' too,) himself, must have great weight with all

'learned rakes.'

And who knoweth but I may be able to bring even this 'Goliath in

wickedness,' although in 'person' but a 'little David' myself, (armed

with the 'slings' and 'stones' of the 'ancient sages,') to a due sense of

his errors? And what a victory would that be!

I could here, Sir, pursuing the allegory of David and Goliath, give you

some of the 'stones' ('hard arguments' may be called 'stones,' since they

'knock down a pertinacious opponent') which I could 'pelt him with,' were

he to be wroth with me; and this in order to take from you, Sir, all

apprehensions for my 'life,' or my 'bones'; but I forbear them till you

demand them of me, when I have the honour to attend you in person.

And now, (my dear Sir,) what remaineth, but that having shown you (what

yet, I believe, you did not doubt) how 'well qualified' I am to attend

the lady with the 'olive-branch,' I beg of you to dispatch me with it

'out of hand'? For if she be so 'very ill,' and if she should not live

to receive the grace, which (to my knowledge) all the 'worthy family'

design her, how much will that grieve you all! And then, Sir, of what

avail will be the 'eulogies' you shall all, peradventure, join to give to

her memory? For, as Martial wisely observeth,

'---- Post cineres gloria sera venit.'

Then, as 'Ausonius' layeth it down with 'equal propriety,' that 'those

favours which are speedily conferred are the most grateful and obliging'

----

And to the same purpose Ovid:

'Gratia ab officio, quod mora tar dat, abest.'

And, Sir, whatever you do, let the 'lady's pardon' be as 'ample,' and as

'cheerfully given,' as she can 'wish for it': that I may be able to tell

her, that it hath your 'hands,' your 'countenances,' and your 'whole

hearts,' with it--for, as the Latin verse hath it, (and I presume to

think I have not weakened its sense by my humble advice),

'Dat bene, dat multum, qui dat cum munere vultum.'

And now, Sir, when I survey this long letter,* (albeit I see it

enamelled, as a 'beautiful meadow' is enamelled by the 'spring' or

'summer' flowers, very glorious to behold!) I begin to be afraid that I

may have tired you; and the more likely, as I have written without that

'method' or 'order,' which I think constituteth the 'beauty' of 'good

writing': which 'method' or 'order,' nevertheless, may be the 'better

excused' in a 'familiar epistle,' (as this may be called,) you pardoning,

Sir, the 'familiarity' of the 'word'; but yet not altogether 'here,' I

must needs own; because this is 'a letter' and 'not a letter,' as I may

say; but a kind of 'short' and 'pithy discourse,' touching upon 'various'

and 'sundry topics,' every one of which might be a 'fit theme' to enlarge

upon of volumes; if this 'epistolary discourse' (then let me call it)

should be pleasing to you, (as I am inclined to think it will, because of

the 'sentiments' and 'aphorisms' of the 'wisest of the antients,' which

'glitter through it' like so many dazzling 'sunbeams,') I will (at my

leisure) work it up into a 'methodical discourse'; and perhaps may one

day print it, with a 'dedication' to my 'honoured patron,' (if, Sir, I

have 'your' leave,) 'singly' at first, (but not till I have thrown out

'anonymously,' 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.

Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 8 · 第 153 / 168 题