(MADAME DE SÉVIGNÉ DICTATES--HER SON WRITES.)
THE ROCKS, Monday, Feb. 3, 1676.
Guess, my dear child, what it is that comes the quickest, and goes off
the slowest; that brings you nearest to health, and removes you the
furthest from it; that throws you into the most agreeable situation
imaginable, and, at the same time, hinders you from enjoying it; that
flatters you with the most pleasing hopes, and keeps you the longest
from the accomplishment of them. Can not you guess? Do you give it up?
Why, it is the rheumatism. I have had it these three and twenty days;
since the fourteenth day I have been free from fever and pain, and in
this delightful situation, thinking myself strong enough to walk, which
is the summit of my wishes, I find myself swelled all over--feet, legs,
hands, arms; and this swelling, which they call my cure, and in reality
is so, is the sole occasion of my present vexation; were I good for
any thing, I might gain myself some credit by it. However, I believe
the enemy is conquered, and that in two days I shall be able to walk.
Larméchin gives me great hope of this. I every day receive letters from
our friends at Paris, congratulating me on my recovery. I have taken M.
de Lorme’s opening powders, which have been of great service to me; I
am going to take them again; they are a never-failing remedy in these
cases. After this attack I am promised an eternal succession of health.
God grant it. My first step will be to return to Paris. I desire you,
therefore, my dear, to calm all your fears; you see what a faithful
account we have given you of the affair; let that make you easy.