Saint-Evremond to Ninon de l’Enclos:

          I was handed in December, the letter you wrote me October 14.  It is rather old, but good things are always acceptable, however late they may be in reaching us.  You are serious; therefore you please.  You add a charm to Seneca, who does not usually possess any.  You call yourself old when you possess all the graces, inclinations, and spirit of youth.
          I am troubled with a curiosity which you can satisfy: When you remember your past, does not the memory of your youth suggest certain ideas, as far removed from languor and sloth as from the excitement of passion?  Do you not feel in your soul a secret opposition to the tranquility that you fancy your spirit has acquired?

          (To love and be loved
          Is a concert sweet,
          Which in your heart is formed
          Cemented with reason meet.
          Of a loving concord,
          To stop the course,
          Our days must end perforce,
          And death be the last record.
          May the kind fates give
          You thirty years to live,
          With wisdom and love in accord.)

          I wish you a happy New Year, a day on which those who have nothing else to give, make up the deficiency in wishes.