THE SCIENCE OF KISSING.
People will kiss, though not one in a hundred knows how to extract bliss from lovely lips, any more than they know how to make diamonds from charcoal; yet it is easy enough, at least for us. First know whom you are going to kiss; don’t make a mistake, although a mistake may be good. Don’t jump up like a trout for a fly and smack a woman on the neck, or the ear, or the corner of her forehead, or on the end of her nose. The gentleman should be a little the taller; he should have a clean face, a kind eye, and a mouth full of expression. Don’t kiss everybody; don’t sit down to it; stand up; need not be anxious about getting in a crowd. Two persons are plenty to corner and catch a kiss; more persons would spoil the sport. Take the left hand of the lady in your right; let your hat go to—any place out of the way; throw the left hand gently over the shoulder of the lady and let it fall down the right side. Do not be in a hurry; draw her gently, lovingly, to your heart. Her head will fall submissively on your shoulder, and a handsome shoulder-strap it makes. Do not be in a hurry. Her left hand is in your right; let there be an impression to that, not like the gripe of a vice, but a gentle clasp, full of electricity, thought, and respect. Do not be in a hurry. Her head lies carelessly on your shoulder; you are heart to heart. Look down into her half-closed eyes; gently, but manfully, press her to your bosom. Stand firm; be brave, but don’t be in a hurry. Her lips are almost open; lean slightly forward with your head, not the body; take good aim; the lips meet; the eyes close; the heart opens; the soul rides the storms, troubles, and sorrows of life (don’t be in a hurry); heaven opens before you; the world shoots under your feet as a meteor flashes across the evening sky (don’t be afraid); the heart forgets its bitterness, and the art of kissing is learned! No fuss, no noise, no fluttering or squirming like that of hook-impaled worms. Kissing doesn’t hurt, nor does it require an act of Congress to make it legal.
That reverend wag, Sydney Smith, says, “We are in favor of a certain amount of shyness when a kiss is proposed; but it should not be too long, and, when the fair one gives it, let it be administered with warmth and energy,—let there be soul in it. If she closes her eyes and sigh immediately after it, the effect is greater. She should be careful not to slobber a kiss, but give it as a humming-bird runs his bill into a honeysuckle, deep but delicate. There is much virtue in a kiss when well delivered. We have the memory of one we received in our youth, which lasted us forty years, and we believe it will be one of the last things we shall think of when we die.”
THE COMPOSITION OF A KISS.
Cupid, if storying legends tell aright,
Once framed a rich elixir of delight.
A chalice o’er love-kindled flames he fixed,
And in it nectar and ambrosia mixed;
With these, the magic dews which evening brings,
Brushed from the Idalian star by fairy wings,
Each tender pledge of sacred faith he joined,
Each gentler pleasure of the unspotted mind,—
Day-dreams, whose tints with sportive brightness glow,
And Hope, the blameless parasite of Woe.
The eyeless chemist heard the process rise,
The streamy chalice bubbled up in sighs,
Sweet sounds transpired, as when the enamored dove
Pours the soft murmuring of responsive love.
The finished work might Envy vainly blame,
And “Kisses” was the precious compound’s name.
Coleridge.
THE SOUND OF A KISS.
A kiss is a difficult thing to describe on paper with only the unyielding, unimpressible materials of pen and ink; but it has been courageously attempted by a wag who had been at a wedding, “all of which he saw, and part of which he was.” Having “seen it done and performed, and heard the reverberation,” he describes a kiss as follows:
“This is the age of improvement, ladies and gentlemen; stand back and you will see a kiss on paper. Don’t be incredulous. I will give you the sound in types. Listen:
“When two pairs of affectionate lips are placed together to the intent of osculation, the noise educed is something like to the ensuing,
Epe-st’ weep’ st-e’ ee!
and then the sound tapers off so softly and so musically that no letters can do it justice.
“If any one thinks my description imperfect, let him surpass it if he can, even with a pen made from a quill out of Cupid’s wing.”
Another writer describes the acoustic phenomena of the process in the following stanzas:
Men’s fancies have long been sore tasked
Some simile meet to bestow
On that which all figures of speech
Never fail to fall vastly below.
Of the magical power of the touch,
And the odorous perfume distilled,
Already there’s written so much
That poetical books are now filled.
But a thought rather novel occurs
To my mind in regard to the sound:
It is this,—that a kiss is just like
The swell which in music is found.
Beginning most gently at first,
To the middle you gradually swell,
Then softly reduce to the close,
And, though luscious, take care not to dwell.
This gradual ascent to the swell
Prepares for the climax of bliss,
And letting one down as he rose
Will weaken a fall such as this.
This provision of nature most wise
I have studied, and sagely conclude
’Twas done by this scale of degrees
Certain death from excess to elude.