Ah! he who first found out the way
Souls to each other to convey,
Without dull Speaking, sure must be
Something above Humanity.
Let the fond World in vain dispute,
And the first Sacred Mystery impute
Of Letters to the learned Brood,
And of the Glory cheat a God:
'Twas Love alone that first the Art essay'd, }
And Psyche was the first fair yielding Maid, }
That was by the dear Billetdoux betray'd. }
It is an Art too ingenious to have been found out by Man, and too necessary to Lovers, not to have been invented by the God of Love himself. But, Damon, I do not pretend to exact from you those Letters of Gallantry, which, I have told you, are filled with nothing but fine Thoughts, and writ with all the Arts of Wit and Subtilty: I would have yours still all tender unaffected Love, Words unchosen, Thoughts unstudied, and Love unfeign'd. I had rather find more Softness than Wit in your Passion; more of Nature than of Art; more of the Lover than the Poet.
Nor would I have you write any of those little short Letters, that are read over in a Minute; in Love, long Letters bring a long Pleasure: Do not trouble your self to make 'em fine, or write a great deal of Wit and Sense in a few Lines; that is the Notion of a witty Billet, in any Affair but that of Love. And have a care rather to avoid these Graces to a Mistress; and assure your self, dear Damon, that what pleases the Soul pleases the Eye, and the Largeness or Bulk of your Letter shall never offend me; and that I only am displeased when I find them small. A Letter is ever the best and most powerful Agent to a Mistress, it almost always persuades, 'tis always renewing little Impressions, that possibly otherwise Absence would deface. Make use then, Damon, of your Time while it is given you, and thank me that I permit you to write to me: Perhaps I shall not always continue in the Humour of suffering you to do so; and it may so happen, by some turn of Chance and Fortune, that you may be deprived, at the same time, both of my Presence, and of the Means of sending to me. I will believe that such an Accident would be a great Misfortune to you, for I have often heard you say, that, 'To make the most happy Lover suffer Martyrdom, one need only forbid him Seeing, Speaking and Writing to the Object he loves.' Take all the Advantages then you can, you cannot give me too often Marks too powerful of your Passion: Write therefore during this Hour, every Day. I give you leave to believe, that while you do so, you are serving me the most obligingly and agreeably you can, while absent; and that you are giving me a Remedy against all Grief, Uneasiness, Melancholy, and Despair; nay, if you exceed your Hour, you need not be asham'd. The Time you employ in this kind Devoir, is the Time that I shall be grateful for, and no doubt will recompense it. You ought not however to neglect Heaven for me; I will give you time for your Devotion, for my Watch tells you 'tis time to go to the Temple.
TWELVE o'CLOCK.
Indispensible Duty.
There are certain Duties which one ought never to neglect: That of adoring the Gods is of this nature; and which we ought to pay, from the bottom of our Hearts: And that, Damon, is the only time I will dispense with your not thinking on me. But I would not have you go to one of those Temples, where the celebrated Beauties, and those that make a profession of Gallantry, go; and who come thither only to see, and be seen; and whither they repair, more to shew their Beauty and Dress, than to honour the Gods. If you will take my advice, and oblige my wish, you shall go to those that are least frequented, and you shall appear there like a Man that has a perfect Veneration for all things Sacred.
The Instruction.
Damon, if your Heart and Flame,
You wish, should always be the same,
Do not give it leave to rove,
Nor expose it to new Harms:
Ere you think on't, you may love,
If you gaze on Beauty's Charms:
If with me you wou'd not part,
Turn your Eyes into your Heart.
If you find a new Desire
In your easy Soul take fire,
From the tempting Ruin fly;
Think it faithless, think it base:
Fancy soon will fade and die,
If you wisely cease to gaze.
Lovers should have Honour too,
Or they pay but half Love's due.