The mechanical approach is based on the premise that love-making is an art or even a science that can be learned, as the piano or chemistry can be learned. From the psychiatric view the so-called art of love is instinctual. The perfectly free person, if one can be imagined, would, if he loved and were loved in return, soon become a sophisticated practitioner of this art with the barest of preparation. I recall an anecdote that illustrates this point. It was told to me by a sociologist who was conducting a survey of married couples in an effort to find the correlation between premarital advice and sexual happiness. While questioning one healthy couple whose marriage was obviously happy, he asked the husband: “And did your parents give you any advice?” “Yes.” “Which parent?” “My father.” “Did he give you a thorough briefing?” Pause. “Yes, it was brief.” Pause. “And it was thorough.” “What did he tell you?” “You want his words?” “Yes, if you like.” “He said, ‘Everything goes.’” However, such free spirits as this one are relatively rare in our society. Usually more instruction is needed. Taboos against sexuality have characterized Western civilization. The art of love, therefore, seems to me to be largely the art of getting over societally induced ignorance, superstition, and inhibition. Here’s how I view the matter. When through the methods employed in this section or through therapy one has at length achieved psychological maturity and therefore vaginal orgasm is no longer blocked, an examination of some of the technical information about love-making can be helpful. Before that point, such lore tends to lead to an inhibiting self-consciousness. It is generally agreed by students of the matter that spontaneity in sexual relations must never be lost. Married life tends to impose a rather rigid pattern in all areas of living. Such routinization is a necessity if the world’s work is to get done. For most people, for example, it becomes necessary to breakfast every day at the same time, in the same place, and in the same manner. If one allows this to happen to sexuality one is imprisoning the unicorn, exposing love-making to a loss of its magic. Variety is the spice that married love often needs, and it takes no great effort to be various in love-making. It takes only a sense of its importance and the knowledge of a few minimal facts. One method of preserving spontaneity is to prevent love-making from always occurring at the same time. Evenings in most homes tend to follow a pattern. Supper must be cooked, dishes must be done, children must be put to bed. And then there’s television or guests. I have had many men and women defend the proposition that, since love-making tends to make them sleepy when it is finished, the last moments of the day are by necessity the time for love.