My lord,
The glory of a great name, acquired by a greater glory of action, hath in all ages lived the truest chronicle to his own memory. In the practice of which argument, your growth to perfection, even in youth, hath appeared so sincere, so unflattering a pen-man, that posterity cannot with more delight read the merit of noble endeavours than noble endeavours merit thanks from posterity to be read with delight. Many nations, many eyes, have been witnesses of your deserts and loved them. Be pleased, then, with the freedom of your own nature, to admit one, amongst all, particularly into the list of such as honour a fair example of nobility. There is a kind of humble ambition, not uncommendable, when the silence of study breaks forth into discourse, coveting rather encouragement than applause; yet herein censure commonly is too severe an auditor, without the moderation of an able patronage. I have ever been slow in courtship of greatness,2 not ignorant of such defects as are frequent to opinion; but the justice of your inclination to industry emboldens my weakness of confidence to relish an experience of your mercy, as many brave dangers have tasted of your courage. Your lordship strove to be known to the world, when the world knew you least, by voluntary but excellent attempts.3 Like allowance I plead of being known to your lordship, in this low presumption, by tendering to a favourable entertainment1 a devotion offered from a heart that can be as truly sensible of any least respect,3 as ever profess the owner in my best, my readiest services, a lover of your natural love to virtue,
John Ford