and smile at my
Undertaking. But as for you who cannot smile, I mean you, Prudes, with
your screw'd Faces, which may be considered as Signs hung forth before
the Door of Virtue, and which perhaps, like other Signs, promise what
is not to be found in the House; I desire neither your Favour nor your
Company. Good-natur'd Girls[9] are all I write to; and such I promise
them may read my Works without a Blush.

Know then, my good Scholar, that art unexperienced in the Art of Love,
that this Art consists of three principal Points: First, to select a
proper Mistress: Secondly, to win her Affections: And, Thirdly, to
preserve your mutual Affection. Of all these therefore we will treat;
or, to speak metaphorically, through these three Roads we will drive
the Chariot we have undertaken to guide.

First then as to the Choice of a Mistress, to whom you may say, _In
Thee alone my choice is fixed_. Do not believe such a one will fall
into your Lap. It will become you to look about sharp for her, and
with all your Eyes, I do assure you. And here my first Instruction
shall be, where she may most probably be found: For he is a bad
Huntsman who would beat about the _Royal Exchange_ for a Hare or a
Fox; and not a much better Gunner or Fisherman, who goes a shooting in
_Somerset-Gardens_, or attempts to angle in the magnificent Bason
there. As these all know the Places where their Game resort, so must
you.

Here then, I by no means advise you to make a long Voyage after a
foreign Mistress, as _Perseus_ did, who fetched _Andromeda_[10] from
the _Indies_; or _Paris_, whom nothing would serve but a _Grecian_
Mistress. Your own Country, my Friend, will produce Women which the
World cannot equal. Beauties are as plenty in the City of _London_ as
Apples in[11] _Herefordshire_, or Grains of Wheat[12] in _Hampshire_;
they are indeed as plenty as Fish in the Sea, or Birds in the Air;
nay, the Sky hath not more Stars than _London_ hath Beauties: for
_England_[13], not _Cyprus_, is the Queen of Love's favourite Island.
Whether you love green Fruit, and which is in the Bud only, or Beauty
in its fuller Bloom, or that which is arrived to perfect Ripeness;
nay, if nothing but Wisdom or Sagacity will serve your turn, of these
too Old _England_ will afford you a sufficient Plenty.

In the pleasant Month of _May_, repair to _Vaux-Hall_[14]. Here take
your Evening Walk, either round the verdant Scenes, where
Nightingales, the only Foreigners who give