The Story of Ninon De L’Enclos, the Celebrated Aspasia of France, with Her Remarkable Letters on Love, Courtship, Marriage, and their Mysteries.

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“Till the moment of the fatal YES”  —an unrecorded edition of a scarce work of fiction; self-balancing between the spheres of erotic Gotham publishing and innocuous cheap popular fiction.

“Published for the Translator,” The Story of Ninon de L’Enclos provides a blueprint for responsible lovemaking, flirtation, and seduction, for both men and women in mid-nineteenth century America. The blueprint was based upon advice given within the correspondence of Ninon de L’Enclos, the fiercely-independent 17th century courtesan and salonnière and her fellow libertine and epistolary correspondent.

Before the enthusiastic reader could learn of the passions of the heart, two hurdles had to be crossed. The first was the unsigned Introduction, datelined in New York, October 5, 1843. Here, the editor and “possessor of the Manuscript Letters” (after showing them to a female friend for perusal) muses what entertainment they could provide to a general readership:

“[They offer] neither scandal nor obscenity…” [writer’s emphasis] and are “remarkably free from pruriency and frivolity,—although they contain many sound truths and excellent hints,—we cannot but protest against the ruthless philosophy which would divest the passion of love of all its romance, and reduce it to a mere affair of the senses. Undoubtedly there is much delusion among the young upon this subject… Should this volume fall into the hands of some, whose inexperience in the world may disqualify them from the task of separating the good and true…”

The editor ends the introduction by commenting upon “Ninon’s shame” —of being a prostitute, a career apparently advanced by her father. This occupation, the editor wrote, violated God’s laws, carrying an inevitable penalty. He concludes: “If there is any thing in the example of Ninon worth imitating, the circumstances to which we refer should be a terrific warning to her sex to avoid her frailties while copying her virtues.”

The reader’s second hurdle was a cradle-to-grave biography. This text explained, in part, that at an early age the courtesan-to-be was “so happily endowed by nature, as to have framed herself without assistance” and proceeds to describe de L’Enclos’ physical attributes in great detail.

After an anecdote about her—purportedly written by Voltaire—the text gives way to an intermediary passage written in the first-person voice of the editor. The passage (pp18–19) presents an opinion piece on the liberal art of gallantry. By the editor’s definition, gallantry is a “mutual warfare” —a pleasing exercise of the mind, “like the game of chess,” played between the sexes:

“It is certain that a commerce of this kind, between the sexes, serves to polish and improve them both: enlivens the sluggishness of mortal matter; creates attention and complacency, which are the characteristics of good-breeding; elicits every spark of genius; illumines each latent talent of the mind; weeds out the natural selfishness of the soul, and innocently and agreeably occupies that hazardous interval of life, which lies between what is styled our entrance into the world and our settling in it.”

“This space is generally employed by men in sports of the field, and midnight carousals, which give a meanness to their sentiments, and a rudeness to their manners, that are as inconsistent with morals as they are with politeness. A general commerce among women, enlivened with some particular attachment, has always been thought necessary to soften the uncouthness of man’s nature. But then, an entire good breeding and perfect purity must be preserved throughout. This sort of gallantry causes a man to exert every virtue, excellence, or perfection, that either his nature or education may have given him the advantages of; and diffuses over his whole manners, mien, and deportment, a certain polite and liberal air, that distinguishes the gentleman from the mechanic.”

Most part of what I have here argued, may be applied likewise to women; who have, besides, this peculiar advantage from the use of gallantry, as I have here limited the expression, that it serves to give them a management of their wit and beauty, which may help to defend them when they shall happen to be more seriously attacked. The most innocent amusements from perversion or excess, may terminate in vice, and gallantry may end in intrigue: but this event arises from the frailty of human nature…”

The editor then states he has “novelized” L’Enclos’ letters and begins this with Chapter VI: “Argument of Ninon’s Lftters [sic] to the Marquis de Sevigne.”  Here, the Marquis places himself under Ninon’s tutelage as she “counsels to conduct him through the labyrinth of the human heart” so he can win the love of another woman. (p19)

Through fifty or so odd letters, L’Enclos proffers advice in the ways of lovemaking, but so too does the Marquis. Between the two, an abundance of tips is given on how the sexes can seduce or please each another, as well as understand affairs of the heart.

Periodically, a former reader pencil-bracketed passages they found commendable. Within the correspondence, one learns that an agreeable woman might be “rendered still more engaging by a little inequality of temper, with a tincture of coquetry” (p23)  A woman hoping to keep her husband should do her utmost to please him:

“The love of change is the very diastole of the heart. Satisfy our curiosity, and our wishes faint away. Whoever, then, would fix a husband or a lover, should still leave him something to desire; each day should promise something new or rare for the succeeding. Diversify his pleasures, exhibit in the same object the quickening spirit of variety, and I will answer for his fidelity and constancy.” (p63)

Failing to do so, the following scenario could unfold:

“Till the moment of the fatal YES, on whatever terms granted, a woman has but little need of artifice. Curiosity excites, desire impels, and hope sustains. But when once success has crowned the adventure, the desire of fixing him requires the exercise of her whole ingenuity, and should inspirit all her policy: for the heart is like an open town, easier to take than keep.” (p64)

Meanwhile, women struggled to control their passions once they became inflamed:

“A woman persuaded that she has tried every thing in her power to defend herself from a passion which enthrals her, and satisfied with the conflicts she has already sustained, concludes that all further resistance to the force of love must be in vain ; and if she still hold out, it is not from any resource yet remaining within herself: her security arises from the opinion with which she has inspired the lover of her chastity, and the despair which her long resistance may have produced.” (p48)

And in another passage, the Marquis complains of “militant” women who treat men like vassals once a man has fallen in love with them, but then remarkably declares:

“We are slaves, that too much lenity renders insolent, and frequently require to be treated, like those in America, with discipline and chains. We have a certain innate notion of justice, which induces a patient acquiescence in arbitrary power, and informs, that the hand which rules may fall heavy upon us sometimes with reason…” (p65)

The text is filled with such content, but the title perhaps falls short of the publisher’s claims when they described the 1843 edition as “THE MOST REMARKABLE BOOK IN THE WORLD, PUBLISHED THIS DAY!”

Bibliographically, the work was first issued in 1843, with editions in New York (Burgess & Stringer / John Douglas ) and Boston (I. Yale). This 1847 edition is unrecorded. An 1849 Philadelphia edition published by T.B. Peterson & Bros. is known in one copy. The first American edition with De L’Enclos’ Letters were published in Philadelphia in 1806.

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