A dark Corner is as agreeable to a Girl, as to one of us, though we cannot so well dissemble our Desires as she can; but if we should once enter into a Confederacy against the Sex to leave off courting them, they would soon begin to act the Part of Lovers, and come a wooing to us. And what is this but a natural Affection, common to the Females of every other Species, who often make love to the Males? And give me leave to tell the Ladies, that we are more able to command our Affections, nor are our Desires so furious, and exceeding all Bounds, as theirs. The Story of _Byblis_[30] is too well known to be related, who being in love with her Brother, punished her Crime with her own Hands, and hanged herself in her Garters. Miss _Myrrha_[31] loved her Papa with an Affection improper for a Daughter; for which she was turned into a Tree. I do assure you the Story is true; and the Tree now drops continual Tears for her Offence, which we use as a Perfume; and they retain the Lady's Name. In the shady Valleys of _Ida_[32], there was a white Bull, which was the Glory of the Farmer to whom he belonged. This Bull had a beautiful black Speck between his Horns, all the rest of his Body being as white as Milk. With him the _Gnossian_ and _Cydonian_ Heifers were all in love, and eagerly longed to be embraced by him in the tenderest manner in which Bulls embrace the Fair Sex of Cows. _Pasiphaë_, I am very sorry to say it, conceived a Passion worse, if possible, than that of Mrs. _Mary Hamilton_, for this Bull. Lady ---- is not more envied in the Drawing-Room than was every handsome Heifer by this unfortunate Woman. The Story is so well known that there is not a Freethinker[33] in the Age who can refuse his Credit to it, though they believe nothing which they cannot see and account for. This poor Girl is reported to have mowed the sweetest Grass with her own Hands for her beloved Bull. She likewise wandered about among the Cows, without the least Regard to Mr. Alderman. _Minos_ her Husband; for a Bull had totally supplanted him in her Esteem. Alas! _Pasiphaë_, to what purpose are the brocaded Petticoats? Your Gallant is not sensible of your Finery. Why do you consult your Looking-Glass, in order to pursue the Mountain-Herds? Or why with so much Art do you set your _Tête_? If you will consult your Glass, let it inform you you are no Heifer. Ah! how desirous are you to have those Horns on your own Forehead, which you intend to graft on your Husband's! It would be better to preserve your Virtue, and be constant to the Alderman, if you can like him: But if you must make a Cuckold of him, do it at least with a young Fellow. No; nothing but a Bull will suffice. She leaves the Alderman's House, and flies away to the Groves and Mountains. To say the truth, I believe she used to drink away her Senses; and that is the best Excuse for her. Ah! how often hath she cast a jealous Eye on some Heifer! and cried out, _Why should that vixen please my Love? Behold, says she,