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Updated: May 26, 2025
With these people, every priest, of every religion, is either a public or a concealed unbeliever, drunkard, and whoremaster; whereas, I conceive, that priests are extremely like other men, and neither the better nor the worse for wearing a gown or a surplice: but if they are different from other people, probably it is rather on the side of religion and morality, or, at least, decency, from their education and manner of life.
A whoremaster, in a flux, or without a nose, is a very genteel person, indeed, and well worthy of imitation. A drunkard, vomiting up at night the wine of the day, and stupefied by the headache all the next, is, doubtless, a fine model to copy from. And a gamester, tearing his hair, and blaspheming, for having lost more than he had in the world, is surely a most amiable character.
Is she handsom? Fran. Oh, what an Ague shakes my Heart, handsom! alas, no, dread Sir; what shou'd such a deform'd Polecat as I do with a handsom Wife? Car. Is she young? Fran. Young, what shou'd such an old doting Coxcomb as I do with a young Wife? Pox on him for a Heathen Whoremaster. Car. Old is she then? Fran. Ay, very old, an't please your Gloriousness. Car. Is she not capable of Love? Fran.
An uninterrupted life of pleasures is as insipid as contemptible. Some hours given every day to serious business must whet both the mind and the senses, to enjoy those of pleasure. A surfeited glutton, an emaciated sot, and an enervated rotten whoremaster, never enjoy the pleasures to which they devote themselves; but they are only so many human sacrifices to false gods.
Moreover, as I have said, Count Bragard had been playing up to the poor Spanish Whoremaster to beat the band.
Thou seem'st to be a most venerable pimp, and, I doubt not, hast abundance of discretion. Here is this young whoremaster, a true chip of the old venereal block his father, and myself, come for a comfortable cast of thy function. I don't mean that stale pretence of conjuring d futurity; let us live for the present, old Haly.
Nor was I surprised to see, some weeks later, the poor Spanish Whoremaster rending his scarce hair as he lay in bed of a morning. And Mexique said with a smile: "Dat feller give dat English feller one hundred francs. Now he sorry." All of which meant merely that Count Bragard should have spelt his name, not Bra-, but with an l.
No; these are alloys, and great ones too, which can never adorn any character, but will always debase the best. To prove this, suppose any man, without parts and some other good qualities, to be merely a whoremaster, a drunkard, or a gamester; how will he be looked upon by all sorts of people? Why, as a most contemptible and vicious animal.
The character which most young men first aim at, is that of a man of pleasure; but they generally take it upon trust; and instead of consulting their own taste and inclinations, they blindly adopt whatever those with whom they chiefly converse, are pleased to call by the name of pleasure; and a man of pleasure in the vulgar acceptation of that phrase, means only, a beastly drunkard, an abandoned whoremaster, and a profligate swearer and curser.
Whether or no he arrived after the Spanish Whoremaster I cannot say. "He'll be here too in a couple o' days," added Bill the Hollander, who had been fourteen years in These United States, spoke the language to a T, talked about "The America Lakes," and was otherwise amazingly well acquainted with The Land of The Free.
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