are not there.  Which of you has seen a young couple, happily married, on the morrow of their marriage? their chaste yet languid looks betray the intoxication of the bliss they have enjoyed, the blessed security of innocence, and the delightful certainty that they will spend the rest of their life together.  The heart of man can behold no more rapturous sight; this is the real picture of happiness; you have beheld it a hundred times without heeding it; your hearts are so hard that you cannot love it.  Sophy, peaceful and happy, spends the day in the arms of her tender mother; a pleasant resting place, after a night spent in the arms of her husband.

The day after I am aware of a slight change.  Emile tries to look somewhat vexed; but through this pretence I notice such a tender eagerness, and indeed so much submission, that I do not think there is much amiss.  As for Sophy she is merrier than she was yesterday; her eyes are sparkling and she looks very well pleased with herself; she is charming to Emile; she ventures to tease him a little and vexes him still more.

These changes are almost imperceptible, but they do not escape me; I am anxious and I question Emile in private, and I learn that, to his great regret, and in spite of all entreaties, he was not permitted last night to share Sophy’s bed.  That haughty lady had made haste to assert her right.  An explanation takes place.  Emile complains bitterly, Sophy laughs; but at last, seeing that Emile is really getting angry, she looks at him with eyes full of tenderness and love, and pressing my hand, she only says these two words, but in a tone that goes to his heart, “Ungrateful man!” Emile is too stupid to understand.  But I understand, and I send Emile away and speak to Sophy privately in her turn.

“I see,” said I, “the reason for this whim.  No one could be more delicate, and no one could use that delicacy so ill.  Dear Sophy, do not be anxious, I have given you a man; do not be afraid to treat him as such.  You have had the first fruits of his youth; he has not squandered his manhood and it will endure for you.  My dear child, I must explain to you why I said what I did in our conversation of the day before yesterday.  Perhaps you only understood it as a way of restraining your pleasures to secure their continuance.  Oh, Sophy, there was another object, more worthy of my care.  When Emile became your husband, he became your head, it is yours to obey; this is the will of nature.  When the wife is like Sophy, it is, however, good for the man to be led by her; that is another of nature’s laws, and it is to give you as much authority over his heart, as his sex gives him over your person, that I have made you the arbiter of his pleasures.  It will be hard for you, but you will control him if you can control yourself, and what has already happened shows me that this difficult art is not beyond your courage.  You will long rule him by love if you make your favours scarce and