Life, Letters, and Epicurean Philosophy of Ninon de L'Enclos Part 25

I have written to M. Morelli, and if I find in him the skill you say, I shall consider him a true physician.

XIV

Saint-Evremond to Ninon de l'Enclos

Superiority of the Pleasures of the Stomach

I have never read a letter which contained so much common sense as your last one. You eulogize the stomach so highly, that it would be shameful to possess an intelligent mind without also having a good stomach. I am indebted to the Abbe Dubois for having sounded my praises to you in this respect.

At eighty-eight years of age, I can eat oysters every morning for breakfast. I dine well and sup fairly well. The world makes heroes of men with less merit than mine.

Qu'on ait plus de bien, de credit, Plus de vertu, plus de conduite, Je n'en aurai point de depit, Qu'un autre me pa.s.se en merite Sur le gout et sur l'appet.i.t, C'est l'avantage qui m'irrite.

L'estomac est le plus grand bien, Sans lui les autres ne sont rien.

Un grand coeur veut tout entreprendre, Un grand esprit veut tout comprendre; Les droits de l'estomac sont de bien digerer; Et dans les sentiments que me donne mon age, La beaute de l'esprit, la grandeur du courage, N'ont rien qu'a se vertu l'on puisse comparer.

(Let others more riches and fame, More virtue and morals possess, 'Twill kindle no envious flame; But to make my merit seem less In taste, appet.i.te, is, I claim, An outrageous thing to profess.

The stomach's the greatest of things, All else to us nothing brings.

A great heart would all undertake, A great soul investigate, But the law of the stomach is good things to digest, And the glories which are at my age the delight, True beauty of mind, of courage the height, Are nothing unless by its virtue they're blest.)

When I was young I admired intellect more than anything else, and was less considerate of the interests of the body than I should have been; to-day, I am remedying the error I then held, as much as possible, either by the use I am making of it, or by the esteem and friends.h.i.+p I have for it.

You were of the same opinion. The body was something in your youth, now you are wholly concerned with the pleasures of the mind. I do not know whether you are right in placing so high an estimate upon it. We read little that is worth remembering, and we hear little advice that is worth following. However degenerate may be the senses of the age at which I am living, the impressions which agreeable objects make upon them appear to me to be so much more acute, that we are wrong to mortify them. Perhaps it is a jealousy of the mind which deems the part played by the senses better than its own.

M. Bernier, the handsomest philosopher I have ever known (handsome philosopher is seldom used, but his figure, shape, manner, conversation and other traits have made him worthy of the epithet), M.

Bernier, I say, in speaking of the senses, said to me one day:

"I am going to impart a confidence that I would not give Madame de la Sabliere, even to Mademoiselle de l'Enclos, whom I regard as a superior being. I tell you in confidence, that abstinence from pleasures appears to me to be a great sin."

I was surprised at the novelty of the idea, and it did not fail to make an impression upon my mind. Had he extended his idea, he might have made me a convert to his doctrine.

Continue your friends.h.i.+p which has never faltered, and which is something rare in relations that have existed as long as ours.

XV

Ninon de l'Enclos to Saint-Evremond

Let the Heart Speak Its Own Language

I learn with pleasure that my soul is dearer to you than my body and that your common sense is always leading you upward to better things.

The body, in fact, is little worthy of regard, and the soul has always some light which sustains it, and renders it sensible of the memory of a friend whose absence has not effaced his image.

I often tell the old stories in which d'Elbene, de Charleval, and the Chevalier de Riviere cheer up the "moderns." You are brought in at the most interesting points, but as you are also a modern, I am on my guard against praising you too highly in the presence of the Academicians, who have declared in favor of the "ancients."

I have been told of a musical prologue, which I would very much like to hear at the Paris theater. The "Beauty" who is its subject would strike with envy every woman who should hear it. All our Helens have no right to find a Homer, and always be G.o.ddesses of beauty. Here I am at the top, how am I to descend?

My very dear friend, would it not be well to permit the heart to speak its own language? I a.s.sure you, I love you always. Do not change your ideas on that point, they have always been in my favor, and may this mental communication, which some philosophers believe to be supernatural, last forever.

I have testified to M. Turretin, the joy I should feel to be of some service to him. He found me among my friends, many of whom deemed him worthy of the praise you have given him. If he desires to profit by what is left of our honest Abbes in the absence of the court, he will be treated like a man you esteem. I read him your letter with spectacles, of course, but they did me no harm, for I preserved my gravity all the time. If he is amorous of that merit which is called here "distinguished," perhaps your wish will be accomplished, for every day, I meet with this fine phrase as a consolation for my losses.

I know that you would like to see La Fontaine in England, he is so little regarded in Paris, his head is so feeble. 'Tis the destiny of poets, of which Ta.s.so and Lucretius are evidence. I doubt whether there is any love philter that could affect La Fontaine, he has never been a lover of women unless they were able to foot the bills.

XVI

Saint-Evremond to Ninon de l'Enclos

The Memory of Youth

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 pa.s.sion? Do you not feel in your soul a secret opposition to the tranquillity which you fancy your spirit has acquired?

Mais aimer et vous voir aimee Est une douce liaison, Que dans notre coeur s'est formee De concert avec la raison.

D'une amoureuse sympathie, Il faut pour arreter le cours Arreter celui de nos jours; Sa fin est celle de la vie.

Puissent les destins complaisants, Vous donner encore trente ans D'amour et de philosophie.

(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.

XVII

Ninon de l'Enclos to Saint-Evremond

"I Should Have Hanged Myself"

Your letter filled with useless yearnings of which I thought myself incapable. "The days are pa.s.sing," as said the good man of Yveteaux, "in ignorance and sloth; these days destroy us and take from us the things to which we are attached." You are cruelly made to prove this.

You told me long ago that I should die of reflections. I try not to make any more, and to forget on the morrow the things I live through today. Everybody tells me that I have less to complain of at one time than at another. Be that as it may, had I been proposed such a life I should have hanged myself. We hold on to an ugly body, however, as something agreeable; we love to feel comfort and ease. Appet.i.te is something I still enjoy. Would to Heaven I could try my stomach with yours, and talk of the old friends we have known, the memory of whom gives me more pleasure than the presence of many people I now meet.

There is something good in all that, but to tell you the truth, there is no comparison.