Voltaire writes that one of the greatest consolations he has received in his infirm old age is reading the works that Guazzesi wanted to send him. He adds that he is not well enough to thank him personally but, though weak, can feel the full force of his merit. Voltaire goes on to say that Racine’s Iphigénie was worthy of being translated by Guazzesi but that he has done too much honour to others, adding that Guazzesi’s observations are as beautiful, instructive, and learned as his poetry is graceful and loveable. Voltaire then discusses the mountains he can see from his windows, noting that he can’t determine which road Hannibal took through them and that he very much doubts that he cleared his way with vinegar. He concludes by once again praising Guazzesi’s way of writing, noting that it pleases him infinitely.