A Monrion près de Lausanne, 4 février 1756

Sir,

I was very sick in the month of January, at the foot of the Alps, when a handsome youth did appear in my cabin, next to Lausanne, and favoured me with your kind letter, written in September; the date from Eastbury….

The country about Geneva, which you have seen, is now much improved; noble houses are built, large gardens are planted. Those who say the world impairs every day are quite in the wrong — are quite in the wrong as to the natural world; ’tis not the like in the moral and the political one.

Be what it will, I have pitched upon two retreats on the banks of that lake you are pleased to mention in your letter. I pass the winter by Lausanne, and the other seasons by Geneva, without care and without kings.

That country would not perhaps agree with a Frenchman of twenty-five; but it is most convenient to old age; when one is past sixty, the place of reason is a private station. Yet, though I am mightily pleased with these lands of peace and freedom, I would gladly see another land of liberty again before I die; I would have the honour to see you again, and renew to you my sincere and everlasting gratitude for all the tokens of kindness I received from you when I was in London.

My good countrymen have sometimes upbraided me for having too much of the English spirit in my way of thinking; it should be but just I should pay a visit to those who have drawn that reproach upon me; be sure, dear sir, none was more guilty than you. I hope I should find you in good health, for you are born as sound and strong as nature made me weak and unhealthy. I hope the evening of your day is serene and calm; ’tis the best lot of that hour: you have enjoyed all the rest.

I am, with the tenderest respect,

Sir,

Yours most humble and obedient servant,

Voltaire