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At the beginning of the Golden Age, around 1600, beautifully illustrated books on the topic of love appeared on the Dutch book market. These books are called emblem books: provocative texts and intriguing images that educated young readers in the subjects of love, such as choosing one's partner, marital fidelity and the possible pangs of love. The adjoining image is an example of such a love emblem. Prominently present on the picture is Cupid, the god of love.

As you can see from this example, an emblem consists of three characteristic parts: motto [=motto] pictura [=picture] subscriptio [=verse] Usually, the motto is positioned above or under the pictura; however, sometimes it is draped over the pictura. The meaning of the whole is determined by the combination of the three parts. The curiosity is roused by either the motto or the pictura, and then the subscriptio complements these to parts and provides a logical explanation on the whole. This specific emblem will be dealt with in more detail later on.

The first book of love emblems was published in 1601. The adjoining image shows a pictura from this book. Initially, the creator kept his identity hidden. Moreover, he did not give his book a clear title, most probably to avoid drawing attention to himself. The emblems were practically an immediate success. In later reprints, this book was titled Emblemata amatoria, which is Latin for 'love emblems'. By then, the reason for the author's mysteriousness became apparent. The emblems were created by Daniël Heinsius, a respectable Dutch professor from Leiden. According to Britannica 2001, "Heinsius produced classical editions, verses, and orations from an early age. [...] [A]nd the popularity of his lectures dazzled his colleagues." So presumably he wished to remain anonymous to keep his reputation as a serious scholar intact.

Together with the pictura of the windmill, from which the adjoining images show several details, a motto and a subscriptio were present on the emblem: Ni spirat immota [=Without wind there is no movement] That which pleases me, I must fetch from outside; that which moves me, must come from another, or else I am at a standstill. I need to stand still. Oh, if only the wind would come; then I could go once more. That her breath (the essence of my existence) would merely from her merry mouth, a breeze allow onto my heavy heart, at least from the side. Now I am without her, now I am without me.

The love emblem derived its specific form from a genre that had been around for a while. The very first emblem book, Emblematum liber by Andrea Alciato, originated in Italy in 1531. In that very first book, the theme of 'love' was hardly given any attention in comparison to other themes. This becomes apparent when taking into account that in Alciato's book, Cupid plays a minor role. For instance, Cupid only appears in emblem 112. On the adjoining pictura, you can see Cupid complaining to his mother, Venus, about being stung by bees. The fact that it is he, Cupid, that was stung is meant to be ironic. Initially, the mottoes and subscriptiones were mostly written in Latin. However, when the emblematic genre spread from Italy to Western Europe, languages such as French, Spanish, English and Dutch were then also common practice. Although the languages might sometimes vary, the combination of texts and pictorial elements, together with its moralistic character, remained. That is to say, emblems always contained a wise lesson for the reader about a wide variety of virtues and duties concerning (Christian) life.

The novelty was the detailed attention on the subject of love (Cupid) and its effect on men and women. Vital to the love emblem's image is Cupid's role as a matchmaker. Another outstanding feature is the windmill: it gave the whole look a typical Dutch feel, because in the seventeenth century, windmills were successfully deployed in the battle against the advancing sea. Perhaps you have noticed that, on the pictura, the girl is playing hard to get and the man suffers greatly from this rejection. Initially, this was a theme that re-occurred frequently in love emblems, which will be discussed in more detail later on.

Incidentally, when referring to the Netherlands on this site, we actually mean the seventeenth century northern Netherlands, which at the time consisted of seven provinces. You could say that around 1600, the areas that now belong to Belgium and the Netherlands used to form the southern and northern Netherlands. During the Eighty Year's War against Spain (1568-1648), the northern Netherlands united themselves into the Republic of the United Provinces (the Dutch Republic). The southern Netherlands, on the other hand, remained loyal to Spain and henceforth were named the Spanish Netherlands, resulting in the separation of the southern and northern Netherlands. Around 1600, the concept of the love emblem originated in Leiden (for more information, go to this site) and gradually spread to the southern Netherlands. There, the genre often adopted a more religious view. On this site, however, only the northern Dutch variants of the love emblem will be discussed.

The moralistic character of the emblematic genre will now be discussed in more detail by means of one of Daniël Heinsius' emblems from his second emblem book, which was published in 1613 with the telling title Ambacht van Cupido (roughly translates into: Trade of Cupid). On the adjoining image, Cupid attaches [=grafts] a shoot from one tree onto another. Les deux sont un [=The two are one] The tree that which with its top risen high and wide seems not that far from the premises of heaven, is adorned with fruits; fruits that one believes to be from them alone, they are but derived. With virginhood it is thus: they who want to inherit daughters must themselves forgo being virgins, be of their virginhood deprived, and conquered by Venus in man who from a virgin alone can create many virgins more.

On this emblem, Cupid sets an example by grafting trees. The grafting process involves taking branches from one tree and attaching them to another. In this sense, two trees become one; i.e. they are attached to one another with the purpose of growing fruits together. In other words, the strong qualities of each tree are used to produce strong and healthy offspring. This is how a woman should view the idea of finding a husband and bearing his children. In other words, the (female) reader is advised to be more receptive of her suitor's advances. In the fourth part of this site, this advice will be further explored. The following questions will then pass in review: What role, if any, did seventeenth century women play in choosing and accepting their future husbands? How does the aforementioned advice relate to the image of a reluctant young girl as illustrated on the emblem of Cupid and the windmill?

It may seem improbable that seventeenth century readers were tempted to a certain behaviour with this kind of advice, seeing as the compelling sense of stimulation conveyed by the 'graft-emblem' is much too obvious. In modern literature, a certain lesson, if any, is much more subtle. That is to say, readers nowadays are often not used to obvious moralistic lessons. However, in the seventeenth century this was not the case. All literary works had a moralistic character. The emblematic genre formed no exception to that rule. In the Golden Age, literature served to teach as well as entertain. These days, combinations of texts and images are used in another genre closely resembling that of the seventeenth century emblem. For instance, take a look at the SSOA's advertisement from their 'Safe Sex Campaign 2003' advocating the use of condoms. At the bottom of the advertisement, it states that 'Every year, roughly around 1.000 women will become infertile from Chlamydia,' which is an STD. The message the advertisement is trying to convey is for women to use condoms if they want to have children in the future.

Heinsius' windmill emblem will now be further discussed. Perhaps you have noticed that on the emblem of Cupid and the windmill, the pictura was coloured in. However, this was not how the book came from the printing press in 1601, with all its picturae already nicely coloured in. The colouring in of the picturae came later, often on special request from a buyer, who, in all likelihood, meant it as a gift to his ladylove. A generous giver could request a specially made copy with coloured picturae and/or a unique cover.

There is also another version of this emblem, which has a smaller pictura and a different shape. The fact that emblem books were offered in different shapes and forms will be discussed later on. However, do you perhaps already have an idea as to why smaller copies were made?

The Dutch love emblems were part of a West European tradition. When after 1531 the first emblem book appeared (Alciato's Emblematum liber), numerous emblem books on a wide variety of themes were published nationwide. The adjoining image shows an emblem book on politics. Already in Alciato's Emblematum liber, a broader subject matter was explored. These themes have had a significant influence on the Dutch books on love emblems. Before exploring the roots of influence in greater detail, another important issue needs to be addressed: during the time the emblematic genre flourished, literature was not only moralistic in nature, but also imitative. Whereas nowadays originality is vital, in the seventeenth century, the highest ideal was that of imitatio. Works imitating renowned examples was just as honourable as it was self-evident. For this reason, books on love emblems were influenced by many works.

In the love emblem genre, traces can be found leading back to an emblem from Alciato's Emblematum liber. The motto went as follows: Amicitia etiam post mortem durans [=Even in death, friendship lasts] A vine, covered in vibrant greenery, has embraced an elm, dry with age and even stripped of foliage. It acknowledges natural change, and gratefully gives back to its parent the reciprocal obligations of service. And so by example it counsels us to seek out friends those whose pact of friendship is not broken even by death.

Alciato's influence becomes visible in the first Dutch book of love emblems, the Emblemata amatoria by Daniël Heinsius. Heinsius adapted Alciato's theme of 'friendship'. As can be seen on the pictura, Cupid made his arrival: Ni mesme la mort [=Not even death] One has perished, another still stands, spreading its branches, lavishly displaying, its evergreen self. So too will happen to you, oh Venus charming child, ever residing in me. Death can take away man, but lets love live: neither death, nor time can drive her out; she remains when all has gone; even in distress she thrives. Death may conquer all, but Venus conquers death.

Heinsius compares the life of a lover - and ultimately that of the reader - to the branch of a vine. He was, however, not the only poet to adapt Alciato's emblem. Otto van Veen (or: Vaenius), who in imitation of Heinsius, also applied himself to the creation of love emblems and adapted Alciato's work. In the marginal notes of this emblem, Vaenius even calls Alciato his source of inspiration. When looking at the adjoining image, someone other than Cupid is present on the pictura. The subscriptio is as follows: Ja na de dood [=Yes, even in death] The vine embraces the elm still, although it could not withstand the test of time. In times of need, love holds fast. Yes, even in death: death that conquers all, is conquered by love.

Alciato's influence seems to extend into the twenty-first century. The adjoining images show an advertisement for wine from a modern magazine, together with a magnification of the text. In the advertisment, it is stated that the best way to appreciate the different wines from the brand 'Vin de Pays' is by relying on one's senses; just as how in love the heart should lead the head. For more on 'Vins de Pays' go to this site.

Another long line of sources: from Botticelli to the emblem poet Hooft to Evian mineral water.

In this particular instance, a long line of sources can be found: originating at the Italian painter, Sandro Botticelli, and his painting The Birth of Venus (ca. 1485) the line meanders to the Dutch poet, Pieter Cornelisz. Hooft, and an emblem from his book Emblemata amatoria (1611), and ultimately ends at a picture for a campaign on Evian mineral water (2003). When arriving at the Evian campaign, hardly anything is left of Botticelli's theme. While Botticelli painted The Birth of Venus as a means to crystallize the concept of divine beauty, Evian used this image to show that their mineral water was just as pure as Venus' beauty (portrayed here by Jerry Hall).

How did the northern Netherlands become the cradle of the love emblem genre? In the past, there has been much speculation on numerous explanations. And most likely, speculations will be all that we have in the future as well. Obviously, the Dutch emblem poets were more occupied with creating and selling their books, than with providing explanations of this particular trend. Three possible explanations will now be discussed.

A first possible explanation is that in the end of the sixteenth century, a need for a new morality on matters of love and marriage arose in the northern Netherlands. When the Dutch provinces united themselves against Spain in 1568, the Eighty Year's War became a fact. During that war, the Roman Catholic beliefs of the Spanish ruler became synonymous with oppression. As a consequence of this, the rebellious provinces preferred the Protestant alternative. When it came to matters of love and marriage, the Protestant church made use of emblems to spread its views. Especially the Dutch youth was drawn to this particular genre, which resulted in them picking up these new ideas as they went along reading them. In the next part, we will take a closer look at several emblems by Jacob Cats, to understand how specific changes in marital love due to the transition of one religion to another came about.

The second possible explanation, as to why the love emblem genre originated in the Netherlands, takes us a bit further back in time as well. Even in centuries before the year 1600, debates on the 'natural disposition of races' were a hot topic in Western Europe. On the basis of the Bible and an ancient theory on climates and their corresponding 'humours' of man, ideas on the nature and degree of civilisation of countries were formed. The adjoining image shows an example of such a 'humour'. This is melancholy, a person rules by black bile. The reasoning based on the Bible, the climate theory and the theory of the four cardinal humours came down to this: The warm, southern part of Europe was positioned opposite to the cold north. Usually, the warm south was portrayed as being sophisticated, yet unreliable, while the cold north was depicted as being awkward, yet commonsensical and abstemious.

True to the tradition that people can be stereotyped, the Dutch scholar Erasmus claimed that bluntness was an important characteristic of the Dutch. Remarkable was that Erasmus, a Dutchman himself, associated himself with the southern feeling of superiority. Later Dutch poets took up arms against this prejudice. By travelling to the sophisticated south (Italy, France), the Dutch youth set to rights their lack of civilisation (bluntness). Although, they had to be careful that, in turn, they did not adopt the south's bad habit of licentiousness. The purpose of these educational travels was for young people to broaden their horizons, to learn better manners and social skills, and, more specifically, to educate themselves in the field of love. When it came to the subject of love, the Italians and the French were already advanced with their refined poetry. The Dutch could learn a great deal from their southern neighbours, not only by trying to catch up on their techniques, but more importantly by using the new ideas as inspiration for their own tradition by making use of the emblematic genre.

For the ones who stayed at home, but also for those who prepared to go on such a journey or recently came home from one, books of love emblems were available in the Netherlands. In those books, attempts were made to improve the Dutch lover. It was for good reason that the books were given to young couples: there was much to learn and unlearn about love. A playing factor could be that in the seventeenth century, most Dutch people were of the opinion that southerners often lost themselves in the affairs of love; in particular in the excesses of love, such as adultery and violating virgins. Such subject matters were touched upon in southern literature, which was probably why the northerners came to their conclusion about their southern neighbours. The Dutch gave a civilized twist to their view on love and the literature on love by focussing their attention on the virtuous (Christian) marriage: its preparations, the choosing of one's partner, procreation as a noble goal of love, marital fidelity, and so on. Such a notion was put forth by Hugo De Groot in his Parallellon Rerum Publicaricum (1602; roughly translates into "Comparison of the Republics").

Let us take a closer look at the second emblem book by Daniël Heinsius, Ambacht van Cupido (1613; roughly translates into: Trade of Cupid). Once again, the ice-skating Cupid is present (translation by Myra Scholz): In lubrico [=On thin ice] Cupid learns the game invented here in Holland, He tries to walk on ice, he wears a pair of skates. He's tied onto his feet the two sharp iron blades - They'll keep him firm, he thinks, and steady on the water. The ice is slippery, the blade against it, too, It's easy to fall down, or even right straight through. With wooing it's the same: those lacking well-honed skill Will lose their footing fast, their love will come to nil.

In the year 1613, Heinsius published the emblem of the ice-skating Cupid in his book Ambacht van Cupido (roughly translates into: Trade of Cupid), the sequel to his first book Emblemata amatoria. By then, it became obvious that love was a complicated and risky business. Nevertheless, according to Heinsius, it also became clear that the Dutch were ready for it, seeing as they could teach Cupid how to skate, which was also a risky undertaking. In other words, the Dutch had mastered the art of love to such a degree that even Cupid could learn a few new techniques from them. In this way, a typical Dutch scene is used to prove that the Dutch and sophisticated love belong together. On Heinsius' 'windmill-emblem', a similar notion is portrayed.

Aside from the Protestants' ideals to create, on the one hand, educational literature for the youth, and, on the other, to pursue refinement, another explanation as to why love emblems came into being is possible. During the decades in which love emblems became popular, the Eighty Years' War with Spain was sweeping the country. In those hard times, the need for entertainment, which was both useful and educational, arose. Love emblems fulfilled those requirements perfectly. When, during the Eighty Years' War a period of relative peace followed, called the Twelve Years' Truce (1609-1621), the love emblem genre flourished.

In his first emblem book, Proteus, or Sinne- en Minnebeelden (1618; "Emblems of Morality and Love"), the Dutch poet Jacob Cats seems to imply that that was the time to get a great deal of pleasure out of the emblematic genre. In the book's preface, he dedicated the emblems to the young girls of his hometown. Cats mentions that he dreamed of Cupid saying to him "Where is the youth of Zeeland now? During the war, they were heroic, but now?" De trommel placht de jeugd tot oorlog op te wekken. Laat nu een zoet gedicht de tere zinnen trekken tot Venus' zoete strijd. Daar [=omdat] nooit het vinnig loot [=pijl], daar [=omdat] nooit de felle spies een vrijer heeft gedood.

Cats also believed that the Dutch poets were eloquent enough in selling the subject of 'love': In Holland a population of poets exist who by playing games, By writing songs and poems, are able to tempt our youth To drink the poisoned drink of love. Which then sneaks into the brain, and seizes their spirits.

What was the social background when all this took place? In the northern Netherlands of the seventeenth century, a young, single girl was viewed as someone who would soon marry. If the woman in question was of an older age, it was generally assumed she was a widow. After all, according to the Protestant teachings, marriage was the natural state of living together. In practice, however, this view concerned women more often than men. The Protestant view on marriage was largely based on a passage from the first book of the Bible. In Genesis 2:24, after the expulsion of Adam and Eve from Paradise, the following is said about the institution of marriage (in the Dutch Authorized Version): Daarom zal de man zijne vader en zijne moeder verlaten, en zijne vrouw aankleven; en zij zullen tot één vlees zijn [On reaching manhood, a young man should look for a young woman to share his life with.]

In his book Sinne- en minnebeelden (1618; "Portraits of Morality and Love"), Jacob Cats begins by crystallizing the idea that ‘man and wife shall be one flesh’. The couple in the centre of the picture point to an eel that is cut in half. In the subscriptio of the emblem, it is argued that these two pieces will always feel the need to join each other again, and that the cause of this phenomenon can be found in the Bible: God heeft eens van de man een ribbe weg genomen, en daar is voor de man een vrouwe van gekomen. [From the rib taken from man, God created woman. Therefore, man and woman desire to be together.]

As mentioned earlier, under the influence of the Roman Catholic church, a different view on marriage developed in the Netherlands. When, at the end of the sixteenth century, the Roman Catholic ethics were suppressed by Protestant ones, a new view on conjugal ethics was born. The aristocracy and clergy were to concede ground to the commoners. Slowly but surely, this resulted in what is now called the 'government'. An important difference between the old and new view on conjugal ethics was that from around 1580, in the province of Holland, marriage was to be announced either in the town hall or in church. Other provinces followed this example, bringing to an end the clandestine forms of living together.

One example of a clandestine form of living together that slowly disappeared is the so-called queesting: A young man's privilege to visit a young, unwed girl at night to woo and cuddle with her. On the adjoining image, you can see where queesting often led to. The image dates from 1683 when it was published in the book Historie der Queesters (Roughly translates into "History of Queesting"). The book (mockingly) described how this dated tradition was practiced. Incidentally, the custom of queesting started from a very practical reason: If the couple slept together before the wedding, people would be able to tell whether this union would (eventually) produce offspring.

During the seventeenth century, in the northern Netherlands, the purpose of marriage was seen in a new light. While the Roman Catholic church put procreation and the raising of children first, the Protestant teachings believed that the important matter was for a couple to stand by each other (in times of need). This idea is aptly expressed and visualized on an emblem from Vaenius' Amorum emblemata. The subscriptio states the following: Worthy are those helping others. The lame shows the way to the blind. And the blind repays the lame by carrying him. One's love overcomes what the other is lacking.

In those days, strong ideals on how to act on the marriage market existed. They generally concerned the behaviour of women rather than that of men. The Bible argued for a gender hierarchy, which the civil law confirmed: Upon a betrothal, a woman's father entrusted the guardianship to her future husband. In addition to the Bible, women's physical appearances also served as an argument in favour of men's supremacy. It was believed that a woman's physical strength was inferior to that of a man. Furthermore, her so-called weaker constitution apparently affected her intellectual capabilities. This resulted in the idea that a man, the one with a stronger constitution and therefore possessing a greater power of reasoning, deserved to rule the household. This particular idea will be discussed in more detail later on. Although the man had sole control over his household, man and wife were equal partners. Harmony was still being considered as one of the most important elements of a Protestant marriage. The man was supposed to provide for his family, while the wife was homely and virtuous.

Against this social background, love emblems stood out. The emblems depict the same pattern in the male-female relation, over and over again. The man finds himself biding his time, while suffering from his ladylove's fickleness. The woman, fickle and indecisive, leaves her suitor guessing as to where he stands with her. Such a male-female relation is portrayed on Heinsius' 'windmill emblem'. The man is leaning over a fence in his despair, and the woman is watching him. This particular pattern is derived from the Petrarcan tradition, a literary movement taking its name from the Italian poet Petrarca. In the fourteenth century, Petrarca wrote sonnets to Laura, an unattainable (married) women whom he worshipped.

Petrarca's sonnets were imitated by numerous poets who always made sure that the core elements were present: a beautiful woman, a man pining for love, unrequited love, and conflicting emotions. In short, texts written in the Petrarcan tradition are about the omnipotent force of love, bringing both happiness and suffering to a man's life. The Petrarcan themes are mostly used in poetry (in particular in sonnets, seeing as Petrarca wrote sonnets himself); however, also in other literary genres, such as the love emblems, these themes proved to be successful.

Here is an emblem from Hooft's Emblemata amatoria with the motto 'Het oude deuntje' (Roughly translates into "The same old song"). The accompanying subscriptio states the following: Always hoping, yet nothing good comes from it, And whatever I walk or chase, my toil is endless.

On the foreground of the pictura, you can see a squirrel running in a treadmill, closely observed and perhaps even spurred on by Cupid himself. On the background, a loving couple and two swans are present. The swans were associated with Venus.

The concrete analogies and images, in which Petrarca and his followers captured the idea of 'suffering for love', are further exploited and repeated in all possible ways in the picturae of love emblems. In Hooft's works, the subscriptiones seemed to be demonstrations of the amorous lamenta [=complaint], exercises which sixteenth century France tried to describe by the verb 'pétrarquiser' In this fictitious world, the roles of men and women were fixed. He is always the victim, struck by Cupid's arrows. She plays the tempting enchantress, the dolce nemica (sweet enemy), who can, just by looking at her suitor, cause him bittersweet pains. Moreover, the woman, in all her beauty and attraction, remains unaffected by the power of love. She carelessy throws away her suitor as a wounded creature, who then finds himself being trapped between pleasure and pain.

This Petrarcan image, as portrayed on love emblems, contrasts with the reality of the time. In Dutch society, the women were to bide their time and follow their men. On the love emblems, on the other hand, this particular role was acted out by the men. Among other things, this meant that it was socially unacceptable for a woman to initiate a relationship (which is somewhat different than having her parents deciding on a suitable husband for her. In the end, she was able to choose her own husband, as long as the rules of courtship were obeyed.) When the woman finally did enter into a relationship, she was to obey her man. And when married, she was to fulfil the mother role. People found evidence in the Bible for these specific male-female relations. After all, Eve was found responsible for the expulsion of man from paradise, which resulted in a punishment affecting all women: they were to obey men. Medical evidence was also put forth at the time; apparently, men played the significant role in the process of procreation by supplying the seamen; women simply received the seamen and had no further participation in the conception. This made her role subordinate to that of her man. In addition, it was believed that women were disposed with an inferior combination of bodily fluids, which, in turn, determined her inferior character.

Hugo de Groot (1583-1645), known for his successful escape from the castle of Loevestein on March 22, 1621, was also a renowned scholar. In his book Inleidinge tot de Hollandsche Rechts-geleerdheid (1631; roughly translates into "Introduction to the jurisprudence of Holland"), he concluded the aforementioned medical evidence as follows: Because women are colder and clammier by nature, they are less adept at handling matters of the mind than men. For that reason, men are born superior to women. That is, the wise lead the not so wise. In a marriage, a woman should be kept under tutelage, while the man acts as head and guardian. Thus, a woman owes her husband obedience. Yet, a man should never be allowed to hit his wife or act cruelly towards her. According to De Groot, women are 'kouder en vochtiger' [=cool and clammy], because they suffer from an excess of the elements 'earth' and 'water'. According to the aforementioned theory of the four cardinal humours, people consisted of combinations of the four elements earth, water, air and fire. These elements corresponded with the four bodily fluids black bile, phlegm, blood and yellow bile, respectively. Therefore, as maintained by this theory, an excess of black bile and phlegm caused women to look pale and dull and be slow of comprehension.

Cats formed the exception to the rule that on love emblems the Petrarcan view dominated: a man as a desperate squirrel running endlessly in circles in the hope of accomplishing something, and a woman as a rejecting lover. The discrepancy between literature and reality raises a few questions. How interesting was it for women to see the tables turned? Did they appreciate this literary jest? Or should we assume that the humorous emblems were directed at the male audience, who, at the end of the day, had their own say in their future partners and relationships? When, in light of these questions, you look at the pictura from Heinsius' Ambacht van Cupido (1613; roughly translates into: Trade of Cupid), what role do you think the male Cupid performs here?

How far could the exchange of roles between men and women go? Together with this pictura from Heinsius' book Ambacht van Cupido (1613; roughly translates into: Trade of Cupid), the following text was given: Doordat ik een vrouw vereer, word ik een vrouw [=By honouring a women, I shall become one] My wisdom, my mind acts as two eyes, guiding me: my heart, my feelings great, my male strength cannot manifest, if thou, oh fair maid, engage into battle. I start to resemble you. I acquire thine body and senses, I follow thine example. Goddess, because I depend on thee, I come so close that I begin to spin yarn. When once I was a man, now I am woman.

Who bought these books of love emblems? Initially, they were intended for the Dutch youth; the first few lines of the preface and/or some of the emblems were usually directly addressed to young readers. To attract as many young readers as possible, both luxurious and cheaper copies were made available. In the cheaper ones, sometimes the illustrations or mottoes were missing. Also, the picturae were smaller - as seen earlier with Heinsius' examples. Emblem poets often took into consideration the public's state of knowledge. Advanced readers were challenged by multilingual texts - also suitable for the European market! - while the less advanced readers could enjoy the picturae.

The advent of the love emblem genre saw to it that emblems that until then only circulated in elite circles now also fulfilled a broader social function. Although authors mentioned that all lovers would want to read emblem books on love, there was still the question of who actually owned one? That question is difficult to answer. Hardly any numbers on sales and ownership exist. However, we can, with a certain degree of confidence, say a little about a seventeenth century best seller: of Maechden-plicht (1618), another book of poetry written by Cats, about 55.000 copies were sold around 1650. That is a lot, especially when taking into account that the Dutch population at the time was a lot smaller. The most reliable fact might be the appearance of quite a few reprints of love emblems. Although in the beginning there was a limited edition, the many reprints indicated its popularity.

Of the Emblemata amatoria by Hooft, a copy has been handed down through the ages, with, on the velvet cover, the name of the owner embroidered in silver thread: 'Elisabeth Reid 1617'. The idea behind it was that loved ones would receive such a book as an engagement or wedding gift.

In a preface of a songbook from 1636, it was confirmed that emblem books were often carried in one's trousers pocket. The author mentioned that the smaller formats of songbooks and books of love emblems were extremely convenient for amorous encounters: Which [=the small format of emblem books] were not aimed at saving on printing costs; I believe the format was convenient and suited for keeping in one's pocket. And to carry it with them to pleasant meetings where sometimes more was being discussed than thought proper by one's parents. He furthermore mentioned that girls, when surprised by their parents, could easily hide the small book in their aprons. Moreover, the font-size was way to small for nosy aunts and grandmothers to read!

A good indicator of the popularity of love emblems was perhaps the attempts of the youth to create their own love emblems. On the adjoining image, you can see an example of such attempts. In some cases, students wrote texts to go with picturae made by professional engravers. However, sometimes they created everything themselves, from the texts to the picturae.

A key factor of the growing popularity of love emblems was the game element. As mentioned earlier, on most love emblems, the male-female relations were turned upside down, portraying the stereotype of a complaining, helpless man and a powerful, heartless woman. This raised the question of whether the female readers were as amused by them as their partners were. The game element also included recognising fragments that had appeared on earlier published emblems or in love poetry. It was then about who knew enough literature to be able to recognise certain literary fragments when combined and portrayed on love emblems.

It was also part of the game to make variations on Cupid's appearances. You already saw Cupid ice-skating and spinning yarn on some of Heinsius' emblems. What is more, in that same book, Cupid plays with a hoop, makes handstands and jokes about his nudity.

In Heinsius' emblems, Cupid takes on other forms. Vaenius makes Cupid utilize all sorts of attributes, and Hooft uses him as an intermediary between classical myths and the emblematic genre. Cupid's different personalities were constantly made use of: the almighty, capricious God who has full control over who will fall in love with whom versus the playful child who acts funny on occasion. On the adjoining images, Heinsius used both personalities. As the love emblem genre evolved, Cupid disappeared to the background. For instance, the playful character of the genre is less prominent in Cats' emblems than it was in Heinsius'.

In his role as the almighty God of love, Cupid makes the rules in the game of love. As a way of tuition, the youth was instructed in the numerous aspects of this particular theme: from sexual morals to the more philosophical subjects as love, self-love and requited love. For example, from one of Vaenius' emblems, it becomes clear that he does not tolerate hatred and malice: Fortune aides the lover in the combat he is in, When valiantly he fights with envy and with shame, And shows he not deserves a coward lover's name, Faint lovers merit not fair ladies for to win.

Cupid not only represented playfulness, but also a realization of love's serious affairs. The seventeenth century formed a platform for two different views on love and marriage. In the old view, a marriage mainly served a social purpose, to guarantee one's future. In that way, one's support system, financial matters and friends were more or less ensured. The new view substituted this social purpose for a more emotional approach. Seeing as love provided for people's emotional needs, it became a matter of the heart. This resulted in more modern views on love; the gap between the seventeenth century love emblem and modern times is narrowed. This is best demonstrated by the re-appearance of certain emblematic images in modern art forms and advertisements.