ors, it is
impossible to be further removed from the stupid mistake of those who,
under the name of "passion," elevate the sentiment of love to the
height of a virtue. Ninon understood love to be what it really is, a
taste founded upon the senses, a blind sentiment, which admits of no
merit in the object which gives it birth, and which promises no
recompense; a caprice, the duration of which does not depend upon our
volition, and which is subject to remorse and repentance."

LETTERS OF NINON de L'ENCLOS

TO THE

MARQUIS de SEVIGNE

I.

A Hazardous Undertaking.

What, I, Marquis, take charge of your education, be your guide in the
enterprise upon which you are about to enter? You exact too much of my
friendship for you. You ought to be aware of the fact, that when a
woman has lost the freshness of her first youth, and takes a special
interest in a young man, everybody says she desires to "make a
worldling of him." You know the malignity of this expression. I do not
care to expose myself to its application. All the service I am willing
to render you, is to become your confidante. You will tell me your
troubles, and I will tell you what is in my mind, likewise aid you to
know your own heart and that of women.

It grieves me to say, that whatever pleasure I may expect to find in
this correspondence, I can not conceal the difficulties I am liable to
encounter. The human heart, which will be the subject of my letters,
presents so many contrasts, that whoever lays it bare must fall into
a flood of contradictions. You think you have something stable in your
grasp, but find you have seized a shadow. It is indeed a chameleon,
which, viewed from different aspects, presents a variety of opposite
colors, and even they are constantly shifting. You may expect to read
many strange things in what I shall say upon this subject. I will,
however, give you my ideas, though they may often seem strange;
however, that shall be for you to determine. I confess that I am not
free from grave scruples of conscience, foreseeing that I can scarcely
be sincere without slandering my own sex a little. But at least you
will know my views on the subject of love, and particularly everything
that relates to it, and I have sufficient courage to talk to you
frankly upon the subject.

I am to dine to-night with the Marquis de la Rochefoucauld. Madame de
la Sabliere and La Fontaine will also be guests. If it please you to
be one of us, La