ccasion, 'tis their own fault, and not mine. I know (and know it by
Experience too) there's many a Man that looks as likely as your Husband
does, and yet cann't give a Woman that which Nature calls for. Some Men
(and so some Women too) have greater Stomachs, and some less, as Nature
orders it; and if their Diet be'nt proportion'd according to their
Stomachs, some may be Surfeited, and others Starv'd. For that which one can
live on very well, wou'd starve another; And the Concupiscential Appetites
of Men and Women, do differ as much as do their Stomachs. And therefore
Married People are not so much to blame in making use of others besides
their Wives or Husbands; provided that they take that Prudent Care and
Circumspection which is so requisite in such affairs. And because _Madam_,
you are yet but a Beginner, and may perhaps be startled at this Doctrine,
I'll let you see 'tis not my single Notion, but is the Judgment of a
Learned Author, who long ago has written on this Subject, a Choice Copy of
Verses, which I'll here repeat to you. He Entitles it,

_Upon Love fondly Refused for Conscience sake._

Nature, Creations law, is judg'd by Sense,
Not by the Tyrant Conscience;
Then our Commission gives us leave to do
What Youth and Pleasure Prompt us to:
For we must question else Heav'ns great Decree,
And tax it with a Treachery;
If things made sweet to attempt our Appetite,
Should with a guilt Stain the Delight.
High'r Pow'rs rule us, our Selves can nothing do,
Who made us Love, hath made Love lawful too.
It was not Love, but Love transform'd to Vice,
Ravish'd by Envious Avarice,
Made Woman first Impropriate; all were free;
Inclosures Mens Inventions be.
I'th Golden Age, no Action cou'd be found
For Trespass on my Neighbour's ground:
'Twas just, with any Fair to mix our Blood;
The best is most diffusive Good.
She that confines her Beams to one Mans sight,
Is a Dark Lanthorn to a Shining Light.
Say, Does the Virgin Spring less Chaste appear,
'Cause many Thirsts are quenched there?
Or have you not with the same Odours met,
When more then One have smelt your Violet
The _Phoenix_ is not angry at her nest,
'Cause her Perfumes makes others Blest:
Tho' Incense to th' Immortal Gods be meant,
Yet Mortals rival in the Scent.
Man is the Lord of Creatures; yet we see
That all his Vassals Loves are free;
The severe Wedlock-Fetters do no