Memoirs of Fanny Hill: A New and Genuine Edition from the Original Text (London, 1749)Cleland, John
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Memoirs of Fanny Hill: A New and Genuine Edition from the Original Text (London, 1749)
Cleland, John
England -- Fiction; Erotic fiction; Prostitutes -- Fiction
You laugh, perhaps, at this tail-piece of morality, extracted from me
by the force of truth, resulting from compared experiences: you think
it, no doubt, out of character; possibly too you may look on it as the
paultry finesse of one who seeks to mask a devotee to vice under a rag
of a veil, impudently smuggled from the shrine of Virtue: just as if
one was to fancy one’s self completely disguised at a masquerade, with
no other change of dress than turning one’s shoes into slippers; or, as
if a writer should think to shield a treasonable libel, by concluding
it with a formal prayer for the King. But, independent of my flattering
myself that you have a juster opinion of my sense and sincerity, give
me leave to represent to you, that such a supposition is even more
injurious to Virtue than to me: since, consistently with candour and
good nature, it san have no foundation but in the falsest of fears,
that its pleasures cannot stand in comparison with those of Vice; but
let truth dare to hold it up in its most alluring light: then mark, how
spurious, how low of taste, how comparatively inferior its joys are to
those which Virtue gives sanction to, and whose sentiments are not
above making even a sauce for the senses, but a sauce of the highest
relish; whilst Vices are the harpies that infect and foul the feast.
The paths of Vice are sometimes strewed with roses, but then they are
for ever infamous for many a thorn, for many a cankerworm: those of
Virtue are strewed with roses purely, and those eternally unfading
ones.
If you do me then justice, you will esteem me perfectly consistent in
the incense I burn to Virtue. If I have painted Vice in all its gayest
colours, if I have decked it with flowers, it has been solely in order
to make the worthier, the solemner sacrifice of it to Virtue.
You know Mr. C*** O***, you know his estate, his worth, and good sense:
can you, will you pronounce it ill meant, at least of him, when anxious
for his son’s morals, with a view to form him to virtue, and inspire
him with a fixed, a rational contempt for vice, he condescended to be
his master of the ceremonies, and led him by the hand through the most
noted bawdy-houses in town, where he took care he should be
familiarized with all those scenes of debauchery, so fit to nauseate a
good taste? The experiment, you will cry, is dangerous. True, on a
fool: but are fools worth so much attention.
I shall see you soon, and in the mean time think candidly of me, and
believe me ever,
MADAM,
Yours, etc., etc., etc.
X X X
THE END
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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