friends often
reprehend me for such a sentiment, and assure me that life is worth
living as long as one lives in peace and tranquillity with a healthy
mind. However, the forces of the body lead to other thoughts, and
those forces are preferred to strength of mind, but everything is
useless when a change is impossible. It is equally as worth while to
drive away sad reflections as to indulge in useless ones.

Madame Sandwich has given me a thousand pleasures in making me so
happy as to please her. I did not dream, in my declining years to be
agreeable to a woman of her age. She has more spirit than all the
women of France, and more true merit. She is on the point of leaving
us, which is regretted by every one who knows her, by myself,
particularly. Had you been here we should have prepared a banquet
worthy of old times. Love me always.

Madame de Coulanges accepted the commission to present your kind
compliments to M. le Comte de Grammont, through Madame de Grammont. He
is so young that I believe him fickle enough in time to dislike the
infirm, and that he will love them as soon as they return to good
health.

Every one who returns from England speaks of the beauty of Madame la
Duchesse de Mazarin, as they allude to the beauty of Mademoiselle de
Bellefond, whose sun is rising. You have attached me to Madame de
Mazarin, and I hear nothing but the good that is said of her.

Adieu, my friend, why is it not "Good day?" We must not die without
again seeing each other.

VII

Ninon de l'Enclos to Saint-Evremond

After the Death of La Duchesse de Mazarin

What a loss for you, my friend! If it were not for the fact that we,
ourselves, will be considered a loss, we could not find consolation. I
sympathize with you with all my heart. You have just lost an amiable
companion who has been your mainstay in a foreign land. What can be
done to make good such a misfortune? Those who live long are subject
to see their friends die, after that, your philosophy, your mind, will
serve to sustain you.

I feel this death as much as if I had been acquainted with the
Duchess. She thought of me in her last moments, and her goodness
affected me more than I can express; what she was to you drew me to
her. There is no longer a remedy, and there is none for whatever may
happen our poor bodies, so preserve yours. Your friends love to see
you so well and so wise, for I hold those to be wise who know how to
be happy.

I give you a t