lways, as some think, hymen or the possession of the loved object
which, of itself, destroys love, the true source of the
dissatisfaction that follows love is in the unintelligent manner of
economizing the sentiments, a possession too easy, complete, and
prolonged.

When we have yielded to the transports of a passion without reserve,
the tremendous shock to the soul can not fail quickly to leave it in a
profound solitude. The heart finds itself in a void which alarms and
chills it. We vainly seek outside of ourselves, the cause of the calm
which follows our fits of passion; we do not perceive that an equal
and more enduring happiness would have been the fruit of moderation.
Make an exact analysis of what takes place within you when you desire
anything. You will find that your desires are nothing but curiosity,
and this curiosity, which is one of the forces of the heart,
satisfied, our desires vanish. Whoever, therefore, would hold a spouse
or a lover, should leave him something to be desired, something new
should be expected every day for the morrow. Diversify his pleasures,
procure for him the charm of variety in the same object, and I will
vouch for his perseverance in fidelity.

I confess, however, that hymen, or what you call your "defeat," is, in
an ordinary woman, the grave of love. But then it is less upon the
lover that the blame falls, than upon her who complains of the cooling
of the passion; she casts upon the depravity of the heart what is due
to her own unskillfulness, and her lack of economy. She has expended
in a single day everything that might keep alive the inclination she
had excited. She has nothing more to offer to the curiosity of her
lover, she becomes always the same statue; no variety to be hoped for,
and her lover knows it well.

But in the woman I have in mind, it is the aurora of a lovelier day;
it is the beginning of the most satisfying pleasures. I understand by
effusions of the heart, those mutual confidences; those ingenuities,
those unexpected avowals, and those transports which excite in us the
certainty of creating an absolute happiness, and meriting all the
esteem of the person we love. That day is, in a word, the epoch when a
man of refinement discovers inexhaustible treasures which have always
been hidden from him; the freedom a woman acquires who brings into
play all the sentiments which constraint has held in reserve; her
heart takes a lofty flight, but one well under control.