MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.
PARIS, OCT. 14.
---- ---- Timor & minæ
Scandunt eodum quo dominus; neque
Decedit ærata triremi; &
Post equitem sedet atra cura.
In a language so expressive as the English, I hate the pedantry of
tagging or prefacing what I write with Latin scraps; and ever was a
censurer of the motto-mongers among our weekly and daily scribblers.
But these verses of Horace are so applicable to my case, that, whether
on ship-board, whether in my post-chaise, or in my inn at night, I am
not able to put them out of my head. Dryden once I thought said very
well in these bouncing lines:
Man makes his fate according to his mind.
The weak, low spirit, Fortune makes her slave:
But she's a drudge, when hector'd by the brave.
If Fate weave common thread, I'll change the doom,
And with new purple weave a nobler loom.
And in these:
Let Fortune empty her whole quiver on me,
I have a soul, that, like an ample shield,
Can take in all, and verge enough for more.
Fate was not mine: nor am I Fate's----
Souls know no conquerors.----
But in the first quoted lines, considering them closely, there is nothing
but blustering absurdity; in the other, the poet says not truth; for
CONSCIENCE is the conqueror of souls; at least it is the conqueror of
mine; and who ever thought it a narrow one?----But this is occasioned
partly by poring over the affecting will, and posthumous letter. What an
army of texts has she drawn up in array against me in the letter!--But
yet, Jack, do they not show me, that, two or three thousand years ago,
there were as wicked fellows as myself?--They do--and that's some
consolation.
But the generosity of her mind displayed in both, is what stings me most.
And the more still, as it is now out of my power any way in the world to
be even with her.
I ought to have written to you sooner; but I loitered two days at Calais,
for an answer to a letter I wrote to engage my former travelling valet,
De la Tour; an ingenious, ready fellow, as you have heard me say. I have
engaged him, and he is now with me.
I shall make no stay here; but intend for some of the Electoral Courts.
That of Bavaria, I think, will engage me longest. Perhaps I may step out
of my way (if I can be out of my way any where) to those of Dresden and
Berlin; and it is not impossible that you may have one letter from me at
Vienna. And then, perhaps, I may fall down into Italy by the Tyrol; and
so, taking Turin in my way, return to Paris; where I hope to see Mowbray
and Tourville; nor do I despair of you.
This a good deal differs from the plan I gave you. But you may expect to
hear from me as I move; and whether I shall pursue this route or the
other.
I have my former lodgings in the Rue St. Antoine, which I shall hold,
notwithstanding my tour; so they will be ready to accommodate any two of
you, if you come hither before my return; and for this I have
conditioned.