ce teaches that however pure it may be, it cannot exist
without the occasional help of a burning throbbing, stiff prick, up
a hot, wide-stretched cunt, and a simultaneous discharge of spermatic
juices from both organs. The rest of a woman's body, the breasts and
limbs, can move lust unaccompanied by love, and if once admiration of
them begins lust follows instantly. A small foot, a round, plump leg and
thigh, and a fat backside speak to the prick straight. Form is in fact
to most, more enticing, and creates a more enduring attachment in men of
mature years, than the sweetest face. A plain woman with fine limbs and
bum, and firm, full breasts will (unless her cunt be an ugly gash) draw
a man to her where the prettiest-faced Miss will fail. Few men, unless
their bellies be very big, or they be very old, will keep long to a bony
lady whose skinny buttocks can be held in one hand. I early had a
taste for female form, it was born with me. Even when a boy I selected
partners for dancing because they were what I called crummy, and admired
even at one time a fat-arsed middle-aged woman who sold us bull's eyes,
because I had caught her exhibiting large legs when squatting down to
piss. For years I had had at the period named, two friends, one of whom
was a sculptor, who alas! drank himself to death; and one a painter
still living as I write this. I had been in their studios, seen their
naked models, heard their opinions on both male and female beauty,
and had the various points of female perfection shown me on the
lady-sitters. I had them explained in two instances by the ladies
themselves, in private sittings, and with them I had sexual pleasures
which they said the artists had neither got out of them nor given them.
I had myself sketched from the nude, and was thought a not bad hand
at it, and had therefore by training, instinct, and a most voluptuous
temperament become a good judge of beauty of female form.

I did not write the above paragraphs, when I wrote what follows about
Sarah Mavis, they are added now many years afterwards, when I am
wondering at what I did in those early days, marvelling at my judgment
in selection, and seeking the reasons which guided me then in getting
for my sexual embraces, as many modes of female beauty of form, as
perhaps any one Englishman ever had,--short of a prince.

One Summer's morning about midday, I was in the Quadrant. It had been
raining, and the streets were dirty. In front of me I sa