I confess that I seldom look at [James] Hervey's Meditations, or Quarles's Emblems, without feeling that I would rather be the author of those books — of the innocent pleasure, the purifying emotions, and genial awakenings of the humanity through the whole man, which those books have given to thousands and tens of thousands — than shine the brightest in the constellation of fame among the heroes and Dii minores of literature.