Le Dieu Beefsteak

LE DIEU BEEFSTEACK

L'anémie est à la mode comme la névrose. Elle nous empoigne les plus jolies et couvre lentement d'une blancheur de mort l'éclat frais de leurs joues. Toutes anémiques aujourd'hui, avec des faiblesses dans les genoux, et, comme me le disait si rudement un interne, avec le visage à la sauce pâle.

C'est pour celles-là qu'on a inondé Paris d'affiches énormes qui portent en capitales ces mots d'aspect étrange : Bains de sang. On croit d'abord à quelque titre à sensation, on lit et l'on comprend alors que sur ces feuilles enluminées, collées aux murs, c'est notre époque tout entière résumée dans ses pauvretés et ses besoins pressants...

Déjà le fer est usé, il n'est plus dans le ton; pendant des années on a fait de lui comme un petit remède très high-life; on l'a mis en pastilles dans des bonbonnières exquises, en liqueur dans des flacons de cristal ciselé. Il fallait les entendre s'écrier, les pauvrettes, mollement, gentiment souffrantes, avec un soupir d'àme qui s'envole : Je prends du fer!

Ce « je prends du fer » était tout un délicieux poème, attendrissant comme une plainte vague, rempli d'un charme mondain et discret. Maintenant, c'est au sang même qu'on s'adresse brutalement; c'est lui qui doit donner la vie nouvelle; on le boit à pleine jarre et l'on s'y plonge à plein corps.

Parfois, le matin, rue de Flandres, devant les abattoirs en éventail, c'est une longue file d'équipages : les portières armoriées s'ouvrent sous la main du larbin irréprochable, et des jeunes filles toutes frêks descendent de coupés capitonnés de satin bleu, laissant dans l'intérieur l'amour de petit chien blanc, frisé et bichonné.

C'est l'heure où l'on tue; le sang tiède, — le sang de Jouvence — va couler à flots. Recouverts de la serpillière, la boutique garnie des six couteaux au côté, les garçons circulent; de lourdes pièces éventrées voyagent sur les épaules des porteurs, les voitures numérotées attendent leurs cargaisons; c'est un va-et-vient fiévreux, on travaille dur pour le ventre de Paris; partout où flâne le regard, c'est l'immense boucherie organisée avec art. Par les avenues qui séparent les bâtiments, on se heurte à des viandes pittoresques, à des quartiers monstres qui laissent derrière eux un cordon sanguinolent.

Parfois, parti on ne sait d'où, un cri plaintif, un gémissement désespéré — l'àme de quelque bonne et douce bête qui meurt sous le coup...

Tandis qu'à pas menus, retroussant ses jupes un peu, pénètre dans cette tuerie impitoyable la jeune fille diaphane qui joue Chopin avec sentiment.

On a amené le bœuf, on l'attache à un anneau fiché dans le sol, on lui noue les cornes avec une grosse corde, on lui incline fortement la tète...

Le boucher prend un merlin, donne un coup sec entre les cornes, — le bœuf tombe comme une masse, soufflant, épais; souvent il essaie de se relever, — un nouveau coup sur le frontal l'achève, le voilà inerte sur le flanc, énorme, avec ses yeux — ses yeux si tendres hors de l'orbite...

Alors on lui coupe la gorge, le sang fait irruption de toutes parts, ardent, bouillant; autour dela pauvre bête assommée, on installe un cercle de larges baquets, — des roues qui reçoivent le sang pir cascades et fusées...

A quelques pas de là, la jeune fille attend ; sans le voirelle devine ce spectacle de mort; enfin un garçon arrive en courant, malgré ses sabots, les manches de sa chemise retroussées sur ses gros bras bossués de muscles, une tasse dans sa main vigoureuse; sans hésiter, il présente à la jeune fille cette tasse, où s'agite un sang bouillonnant...

D'un trait, comme habituée déjà, elle la vide, la rejette et se sauve en essuyant avec un fin mouchoir ses lèvres rougies — pour un instant.

A l'hôtel, vite!

Les chevaux repartent au galop,'la jeune fille s'enfonce dans un coin de la voiture, — et chaque fois, quand elle s'en retourne ainsi, lui revient obstinément un vieux souvenir classique, l'histoire de cette Sombreuil, qui l'effrayait tant en pension et à laquelle elle se trouve maintenant bien supérieure!

Avec les bains de sang, la scène devient plus caractéristique.

Le bain de madame la baronne est prêt; dans la baignoire qui brille, c'est une large tache rouge, mouvante; une chaleur monte de cette mare vermeille faite de tout le sang d'une bête jeune.

Mignonne, craintive, la baronne approche: une vision de crime lui traverse l'esprit et l'épouvante; elle se regarde dans sa petite glace à main, elle est plus pâle encore, jamais elle n'osera se plonger làdedans, —. et pourtant elle s'y plonge avec un grand cri, les yeux clos.

Elle ne veut pas voir, une odeur acre lui saisit la gorge... Mais en même temps il lui semble qu'une force vivifiante l'anime, elle s'enhardit, s'allonge et se laisse pénétrer par tous les pores...

Tandis que debout auprès d'elle, la soubrette robuste, saine et comme fraîche encore du bon air de sa campagne, se croit en un cauchemar et murmure: « Est-ce possible!»

Puis, après trois minutes, délivrée, la baronne qui sort du bain s'enroule dans un peignoir de batiste qui moule ses chairs délicates où le sang dégoutte, ruisselle et se fige en perles de corail.

Le matin, la baronne, la Tendresse, comme il est écrit tout le long des carnets mondains, se baigne bravement dans le sang, ce qui ne l'empêche pas de s'évanouir pour une piqûre d'épingle!

Du sang, du sang, c'était le cri de Macbeth après le crime — c'est aujourd'hui le cri du boulevard après l'épuisement des nuits blanches.

Pour peu que l'anémie sévisse longtemps encore, on dira désormais: « Je fais une saison aux abattoirs », comme on disait : « Je fais une cure à Vichy. » Ce sera le comble du chic, par ce tempsoù la maladie est un dandysme.

Un simple beefsteack, cependant, ferait mieux l'affaire : le dieu Beefsteack. est plus sûr que tous les bains du monde. A lui seul, saignant de beaux filets d'un rouge de sang, il est la providence.

Le dieu beefsteack, mais servi et adoré pour luimême, sans que Bordeaux ou Bercy n'aient rien à y voir, le dieu nature, et sur le gril.

Lui seulest de taille à refouler l'anémie qui monte, et il tient dans ses flancs de quoi rendre la fraîcheur rose aux plus fanées; la Villette et les bains miraculeux ne prévaudront pas contre lui.

Le dieu beefsteack, c'est l'avenir, en ce siècle ruiné de sang.

A quoi bon chercher autre chose, pourquoi faire de l'originalité — inutile, avec du sang en tasse ou en baignoire, quand on peut s'offrir, pour un rien, chez soi, au milieu de sa table, sur la belle assiette à fleurs, le dieu beefsteack... sauveur du monde!


Paris Patraque
Alexandre Hepp

Le Cul, selon Voltaire

CUL

On répétera ici ce qu’on a déjà dit ailleurs, et ce qu’il faut répéter toujours, jusqu’au temps où les Français se seront corrigés; c’est qu’il est indigne d’une langue aussi polie et aussi universelle que la leur d’employer si souvent un mot déshonnête et ridicule, pour signifier des choses communes qu’on pourrait exprimer autrement sans le moindre embarras.

Pourquoi nommer cul-d’âne et cul-de-cheval des orties de mer? pourquoi donc donner le nom de cul-blanc à l’oenante et de cul-rouge à l’épeiche? Cette épeiche est une espece de pivert et l’oenante une espèce de moineau cendré. Il y a un oiseau qu’on nomme fétu-en-cul ou paille-en-cul; on avait cent manières de le désigner d’une expression beaucoup plus précise. N’est-il pas impertinent d’appeler cul-de-vaisseau le fond de la poupe?

Plusieurs auteurs nomment encore à-cul un petit mouillage, un ancrage, une grève, un sable, une anse, où les barques se mettent à l’abri des corsaires. Il y a un petit à-cul à Palo comme à Sainte-Marinthée(39).

On se sert continuellement du mot cul-de-lampe pour exprimer un fleuron, un petit cartouche, un pendentif, un encorbellement, une base de pyramide, un placard, une vignette.

Un graveur se sera imaginé que cet ornement ressemble à la base d’une lampe; il l’aura nommé cul-de-lampe pour avoir plus tôt fait; et les acheteurs auront répété ce mot après lui. C’est ainsi que les langues se forment. Ce sont les artisans qui ont nommé leurs ouvrages et leurs instruments.

Certainement il n’y avait nulle nécessité de donner le nom de cul-de-four aux voûtes sphériques, d’autant plus que ces voûtes n’ont rien de celles d’un four, qui est toujours surbaissée.

Le fond d’un artichaut est formé et creusé en ligne courbe, et le nom de cul ne lui convient en aucune manière. Les chevaux ont quelquefois une tache verdâtre dans les yeux, on l’appelle cul-de-verre. Une autre maladie des chevaux, qui est une espèce d’érysipèle, est appelée le cul-de-poule. Le haut d’un chapeau est un cul-de-chapeau. Il y a des boutons à compartiments, qu’on appelle boutons à cul-de-dé.

Comment a-t-on pu donner le nom de cul-de-sac à l’angiportus des Romains? Les Italiens ont pris le nom d’angiporto pour signifier strada senza uscita. On lui donnait autrefois chez nous le nom d’impasse qui est expressif et sonore. C’est une grossièreté énorme que le mot de cul-de-sac ait prévalu.

Le terme de culage a été aboli. Pourquoi tous ceux que nous venons d’indiquer ne le sont-ils pas? Ce terme infâme de culage signifiait le droit que s’étaient donné plusieurs seigneurs, dans les temps de la tyrannie féodale, d’avoir à leur choix les prémices de tous les mariages dans l’étendue de leurs terres. On substitua ensuite le mot de cuissage à celui de culage. Le temps seul peut corriger toutes les façons vicieuses de parler.

Il est triste qu’en fait de langue, comme en d’autres usages plus importants, ce soit la populace qui dirige les premiers d’une nation.

Dictionnaire philosophique

To the Royal Academy of Farting

To the Royal Academy of Farting

Benjamin Franklin, c. 1781


GENTLEMEN,

I have perused your late mathematical Prize Question, proposed in lieu of one in Natural Philosophy, for the ensuing year, viz. "Une figure quelconque donnee, on demande d’y inscrire le plus grand nombre de fois possible une autre figure plus-petite quelconque, qui est aussi donnee". I was glad to find by these following Words, "l’Acadeemie a jugee que cette deecouverte, en eetendant les bornes de nos connoissances, ne seroit pas sans UTILITE", that you esteem Utility an essential Point in your Enquiries, which has not always been the case with all Academies; and I conclude therefore that you have given this Question instead of a philosophical, or as the Learned express it, a physical one, because you could not at the time think of a physical one that promis’d greater_Utility.

Permit me then humbly to propose one of that sort for your consideration, and through you, if you approve it, for the serious Enquiry of learned Physicians, Chemists, &c. of this enlightened Age. It is universally well known, That in digesting our common Food, there is created or produced in the Bowels of human Creatures, a great Quantity of Wind.

That the permitting this Air to escape and mix with the Atmosphere, is usually offensive to the Company, from the fetid Smell that accompanies it.

That all well-bred People therefore, to avoid giving such Offence, forcibly restrain the Efforts of Nature to discharge that Wind.

That so retain’d contrary to Nature, it not only gives frequently great present Pain, but occasions future Diseases, such as habitual Cholics, Ruptures, Tympanies, &c. often destructive of the Constitution, & sometimes of Life itself.

Were it not for the odiously offensive Smell accompanying such Escapes, polite People would probably be under no more Restraint in discharging such Wind in Company, than they are in spitting, or in blowing their Noses.

My Prize Question therefore should be, To discover some Drug wholesome & not disagreable, to be mix’d with our common Food, or Sauces, that shall render the natural Discharges of Wind from our Bodies, not only inoffensive, but agreable as Perfumes.

That this is not a chimerical Project, and altogether impossible, may appear from these Considerations. That we already have some Knowledge of Means capable of Varying that Smell. He that dines on stale Flesh, especially with much Addition of Onions, shall be able to afford a Stink that no Company can tolerate; while he that has lived for some Time on Vegetables only, shall have that Breath so pure as to be insensible to the most delicate Noses; and if he can manage so as to avoid the Report, he may any where give Vent to his Griefs, unnoticed. But as there are many to whom an entire Vegetable Diet would be inconvenient, and as a little Quick-Lime thrown into a Jakes will correct the amazing Quantity of fetid Air arising from the vast Mass of putrid Matter contain’d in such Places, and render it rather pleasing to the Smell, who knows but that a little Powder of Lime (or some other thing equivalent) taken in our Food, or perhaps a Glass of Limewater drank at Dinner, may have the same Effect on the Air produc’d in and issuing from our Bowels? This is worth the Experiment. Certain it is also that we have the Power of changing by slight Means the Smell of another Discharge, that of our Water. A few Stems of Asparagus eaten, shall give our Urine a disagreable Odour; and a Pill of Turpentine no bigger than a Pea, shall bestow on it the pleasing Smell of Violets. And why should it be thought more impossible in Nature, to find Means of making a Perfume of our Wind than of our Water?

For the Encouragement of this Enquiry, (from the immortal Honour to be reasonably expected by the Inventor) let it be considered of how small Importance to Mankind, or to how small a Part of Mankind have been useful those Discoveries in Science that have heretofore made Philosophers famous. Are there twenty Men in Europe at this Day, the happier, or even the easier, for any Knowledge they have pick’d out of Aristotle? What Comfort can the Vortices of Descartes give to a Man who has Whirlwinds in his Bowels! The Knowledge of Newton’s mutual Attraction of the Particles of Matter, can it afford Ease to him who is rack’d by their mutual Repulsion, and the cruel Distensions it occasions? The Pleasure arising to a few Philosophers, from seeing, a few Times in their Life, the Threads of Light untwisted, and separated by the Newtonian Prism into seven Colours, can it be compared with the Ease and Comfort every Man living might feel seven times a Day, by discharging freely the Wind from his Bowels? Especially if it be converted into a Perfume: For the Pleasures of one Sense being little inferior to those of another, instead of pleasing the Sight he might delight the Smell of those about him, & make Numbers happy, which to a benevolent Mind must afford infinite Satisfaction. The generous Soul, who now endeavours to find out whether the Friends he entertains like best Claret or Burgundy, Champagne or Madeira, would then enquire also whether they chose Musk or Lilly, Rose or Bergamot, and provide accordingly. And surely such a Liberty of Expressing one’s Scent-iments, and pleasing one another, is of infinitely more Importance to human Happiness than that Liberty of the Press, or of abusing one another, which the English are so ready to fight & die for. -- In short, this Invention, if compleated, would be, as Bacon expresses it, bringing Philosophy home to Mens Business and Bosoms. And I cannot but conclude, that in Comparison therewith, for universal and continual UTILITY, the Science of the Philosophers above-mentioned, even with the Addition, Gentlemen, of your "Figure quelconque" and the Figures inscrib’d in it, are, all together, scarcely worth a
FART-HING.

The Art of Ingeniously Tormenting

One requisite for approbation I confess is wanting in this work; for, alas! I fear it will contain nothing new. But what is wanting in novelty, shall be made up in utility; for, although I may not be able to show one new and untried method of plaguing, teasing, or tormenting; yet will it not be a very great help to anyone, to have all the best and most approved methods collected together, in one small pocket volume? Did I promise a new set of rules, then, whatever was not mine, might be claimed by its proper owner; and, like the jay in the fable,* I should justly be stripped of my borrowed plumes: but, as I declare myself only a humble collector, I doubt not, but everyone who has practised, or who in writing has described, an ingenious Torment, will thank me for putting it into this my curious collection.

That a love to this science is implanted in our natures, or early inculcated, is very evident, from the delight many children take in teasing and tormenting little dogs, cats, squirrels, or any other harmless animal, that they get into their power.
This love of Tormenting may be said to have one thing in common with what, some writers affirm, belongs to the true love of virtue; namely, that it is exercised for its own sake, and no other: For, can there be a clearer proof, that, for its own sake
alone, this art of Tormenting is practised, than that it never did, nor ever can, answer any other end? I know that the most expert practitioners deny this; and frequently declare, when they whip, cut, and slash the body, or when they tease, vex, and torment the mind, that ’tis done for the good of the person that suffers.

Let the vulgar believe this if they will; but I, and my good pupils, understand things better; and, while we can enjoy the high pleasure of Tormenting, it matters not what the objects of our power either feel, think, or believe.

With what contempt may we, adepts in this science, look down on the tyrants of old! On Nero, Caligula, Phalaris,* and all such paltry pretenders to our art! Their inventions ending in death, freed the sufferer from any farther Torments; or, if they extended only to broken bones, and bodily wounds, they were such as the
skill of the surgeon could rectify, or heal: But where is the hand can cure the wounds of unkindness, which our ingenious artists inflict?

The practice of tormenting the body is not now, indeed, much allowed, except in some particular countries, where slavery and ignorance subsist: but let us not, my dear countrymen, regret the loss of that trifling branch of our power, since we are at
full liberty to exercise ourselves in that much higher pleasure, the tormenting the mind. Nay, the very laws themselves, although they restrain us from being too free with our bastinado,* pay so much regard to this our strong desire of Tormenting,
that, in some instances, they give us the fairest opportunities we could wish, of legally indulging ourselves in this pleasant sport.

To make myself clearly understood, examine the case, as it stands (if I mistake not) between the debtor and creditor. If a person owes me a thousand pounds (which perhaps, too, may be my all), and has an estate of yearly that value, he may, if he
pleases, and has a mind to plague, distress, and vex me, refuse paying me my money. ‘Arrest him, then,’ cry you.—If he be not in parliament, I do.*—He gives bail; and, with my own money, works me through all the quirks of the law.—At last (if he be of
the true blood of those my best disciples, who would hang themselves to spite their neighbours) he retires into the liberties of the Fleet, or King’s Bench;* lives at his ease, and laughs at me and my family, who are starving. However, as some inconveniences attend such a proceeding, this method of plaguing a creditor is not very often practised.

But on the other hand, how can I be thankful enough to our good laws, for indulging me in the pleasure of persecuting and tormenting a man who is indebted to me, and who does not want the will, but the power, to pay me! As soon as I perceive this to be the case, I instantly throw him into jail, and there I keep him to pine away his life in want and misery.—How will my pleasure be increased, if he should be a
man in any business or profession! For I then rob him of all probable means of escaping my power. It may be objected, perhaps, that in this last instance I act imprudently; that I defeat my own ends, and am myself the means of my losing my whole
money.—How ignorant of the true joys of Tormenting is such an objector! You mistake greatly, my friend, if you think I defeat my own ends;—for my ends are to plague and torment, not only a fellow creature but a fellow Christian.—And are there not
instances enough of this kind of practice, to make us fairly suppose, that the value of one thousand, or ten thousand pounds, is nothing, compared to the excessive delight of Tormenting?

But let me raise this joyous picture a little higher.—Must not my sport be doubled and trebled by the consideration, that his children are starving; that his wife is in the same condition, oppressed also with unspeakable anguish for not being able to
give her helpless infants any relief?—Suppose, too, that the husband, with the reflection of all this, and his own incapacity to help them, should be driven to distraction! Would not this exceed the most malicious transports of revenge ever exercised by an ancient or modern tyrant?

If there are some odd sort of people, who have no great relish for this kind of pleasure,* which I have here attempted to describe; yet let them not hastily condemn it, as unnatural: for I appeal to the experience of mankind; and ask—whether there is anyone who has not heard of, at least, one instance of distress, near as
high as the scene before described? And that the love of Tormenting must have been the sole motive to a creditor’s acting in such a manner, when his debtor could not pay him, is evident, from the impossibility of reasonably assigning any other cause.
One strong objection, I know, will be made against my whole design, by people of weak consciences; which is, that every rule I shall lay down will be exactly opposite to the doctrine of Christianity. Greatly, indeed, in a Christian country, should I fear the force of such an objection, could I perceive, that any one vice
was refrained from on that account only. Both theft and murder are forbidden by God himself: yet can anyone say, that our lives and properties would be in the least secure, were it not for the penal laws of our country?

Who is there, that having received a blow on one cheek, will turn the other,* while revenge can be had from the law of assault and battery? Are there any who exercise the virtues of patience and forgiveness, if they can have legal means of punishing the aggressor, and revenging themselves tenfold on the person who gives them the most slight offence?

Innumerable are the instances that could be given to show, that the doctrine of the Gospel has very little influence upon the practice of its followers; unless it be on a few obscure people, that nobody knows. The foregoing formidable objection, therefore, we hope, is pretty well got over, except with the obscure few abovementioned.

But as I would willingly remove every the least shadow of an objection that I am acquainted with, I must take notice of one which was made by a person very zealous indeed for our cause; but who feared, he said, that people would not bear publicly to
avow their love of Tormenting, and their disregard of that very religion which they profess. This, at first, almost staggered me,and I was going to throw by my work, till I recollected several books (some too written by divines*) that had been extremely wellreceived, although they struck at the very foundation of our
religion. These precedents are surely sufficient to make me depend upon coming off with impunity, let me publish what I will, except a libel against any great man. For to abuse Christ himself is not, at present, esteemed so high an offence, as to
abuse one of his followers; or, rather, one of his Abusers; for such may we term all those, who, without observing his laws, call themselves after his name.

It has been already observed, that the torments of the body are not much allowed in civilized nations: but yet, under the notion of punishments for faults, such as whipping and picketing* amongst the soldiers; with some sorts of curious marine discipline, as the cat-of-nine-tails, keelhauling,* and the like; a man may
pick out some excellent fun; for if he will now and then inflictthose punishments on the good, which were intended for the chastisement and amendment of the bad, he will not only work the flesh, but vex the spirit, of an ingenious youth; as nothing can
be more grating to a liberal mind, than to be so unworthily treated.

If I should be so happy, my good pupils, by these my hearty endeavours, as to instruct you thoroughly in the ingenious art of plaguing and tormenting the mind, you will have also more power over the body than you are at first aware of. You may take the Jew’s forfeit of a pound of flesh,* without incurring the imputation of barbarity which was cast on him for that diverting joke. He was a mere mongrel at Tormenting, to think of cutting it off with a knife; no—your true delicate way is to waste it off by degrees.—For has not every creditor (by the pleasant assistance
of a prison) the legal power of taking ten or twenty pounds of Christian flesh, in forfeit of his bond?

However, without such violent measures, you may have frequent opportunities (by teasing and tormenting) of getting out of your friends a good pretty picking.* But be very careful daily to observe, whether your patient continues in good health, and is fat and well-liken:* if so, you may be almost certain, that your whole labour is thrown away. As soon, therefore, as you perceive this to be the case, you must (to speak in the phrase of surgeons, when they hack and hew a human body) immediately choose another Subject.

Jane Collier
An Essay on the Art of Ingeniously Tormenting

Quotation, quotation, quotation

Déclaration des citoyennes publiques

Déclaration des droits des citoyennes du Palais Royal
(haut lieu de la prostitution parisienne sous l´Ancien Régime)

Septembre 1789

Les citoyennes du Palais Royal constituées en Assemblée souveraine et législative (en effet, ne font elles pas la loi aux hommes ?), considérant que l'Assemblée nationale de Versailles acharnée à extirper les abus de toute espèce, et surtout étant sur le point de supprimer les moines, peut bien juger à propos de supprimer les filles, arrêtent et décrètent les articles suivants:

I. Les femmes naissent égales aux hommes et libres comme eux. Si elles naissent libres, elles doivent rester libres jusqu'à leur dernier soupir.

II. La liberté entraîne la propriété de sa personne. Elles peuvent donc faire de leur personne ce qu'elles jugent à propos.

III. Les hommes étant déclarés libres par l'Assemblée nationale, ils peuvent conséquemment faire à peu près ce qu'ils veulent, pourvu toutefois que leurs actions ne soient point contraires à la loi, qu'ils ne troublent point l'ordre établi et ne nuisent à personne : s'il est libre aux hommes d'aller chez les femmes, il doit être libre aux femmes de les recevoir.

IV. Les citoyennes du Palais Royal pourront à l'avenir, comme elles l'ont fait par le passé, se promener dans toute l'étendue du jardin, aller, venir, étaler leurs grâces, dévoiler leurs appâts aux yeux des hommes qui les convoitent, et cela sans causer de scandale, bouder les uns, agacer les autres, et aller souper avec tout le monde.

V. L'Assemblée nationale ayant aboli les jurandes et maîtrises, l'Assemblée législative des citoyennes du Palais Royal abolit pareillement les rétributions qu'elles ont été obligées de payer jusqu'ici à la police.

VI. Dès qu'une femme publique devenue particulière aura trouvé un homme qui l'entretiendra d'une manière sinon fastueuse, du moins honnête, elle ne pourra avoir un second amant, à moins que ce soit par amour et non par avarice. La pluralité des bénéfices est défendue lorsque le revenu de ces bénéfices excédera la somme de 1500 livres.

VII. On ne peut ni commander ni défendre l'amour ; mais la loi peut restreindre un commerce de plaisirs où l'attrait de la fortune à la fois, et de la volupté, entraîne les femmes de tous les rangs et de toutes les classes.

VIII. Toute citoyenne, aux restrictions près que peut y apporter la loi, a le droit d'exposer ses appâts partout où bon lui semble, d'acquérir des grâces, de trafiquer de ses charmes, de faire un commerce aussi agréable que lucratif, et d'employer ses facultés et ses talents à ses plaisirs et à sa fortune.

IX. Ainsi, libre dans sa personne, elle peut se vendre ou se donner à celui qui lui plaît davantage ou qui paie le mieux.

X. Ainsi, libre dans ses actions, elle peut aller courir, souper, coucher chez qui lui plaît, faire son commerce dans tel quartier de Paris, dans telle ville du royaume qu'elle voudra.

XI. Si les femmes sont nées égales aux hommes, elles sont à plus forte raison égales entre elles. Ainsi le préjugé qui les avilit n'existera plus désormais, nulle profession agréable ou utile n'emportera dérogeance.

XII. Tous les citoyens de quel rang, de quel sexe qu'ils soient, sont donc égaux. L'égalité civile consiste à n'être soumis qu'à la loi, et à pouvoir
également réclamer sa protection.

XIII. Comme les citoyennes du Palais Royal tiennent leur bien du public, elles contribueront aux charges publiques en raison de leur fortune actuelle.

XIV. La loi est l'expression de la volonté générale; nul ne peut faire ce qu'elle défend, ni être forcé de faire ce qu'elle n'ordonne pas. Ainsi toute femme publique étant libre d'exercer sa profession, est libre aussi de la quitter, sans qu'aucun homme ait le droit de la forcer à se rendre à ses désirs.

XV. Mais la loi ne peut être juste et bonne qu'autant qu'elle est faite à l'avantage de la société, sans contrarier la nature; la loi doit donc protéger une profession où mène le voeu de la nature, et qui est aussi utile qu'agréable à la société.

L'Assemblée, après avoir entendu la lecture, voulut qu'on discutât les différents articles. Alors Mademoiselle A... se leva et attaqua vivement l'article VI. Mademoiselle A... est entretenue par un F... et un riche B... de la rue Saint Honoré. Elle était intéressée à l'article et elle voulait le faire supprimer ou du moins l'adoucir par des amendements. On alla aux voix, et l'article resta tel qu'il était.

Mademoiselle R... voulut qu'on ajoutât à l'article VII, la défense aux femmes mariées d'empiéter sur le commerce des femmes publiques; mais après bien des débats il fut décidé qu'on laisserait ce soin à la puissance exécutrice des maris.

L'article XIII a été le sujet de beaucoup de débats. Ce n'est pas qu'aucun des honorables membres refusât de contribuer aux impositions communes; mais serait il facile d'apprécier au juste les revenus annuels de chacun? le champ de la galanterie a ses bonnes et ses mauvaises années. Quel impôt asseoir sur une fortune aussi précaire et aussi fugitive? On discuta longtemps, et après bien des débats, on décida que l'impôt serait réglé sur le ton, l'élégance, le costume et les ameublements de la personne.

Divers autres articles furent soumis à un examen aussi sévère; mais ils obtinrent enfin la pluralité des voix, et ils furent aussitôt décrétés en ces mots.

L'Assemblée reconnaît et déclare les droits ci dessus des citoyennes du Palais Royal, et les met sous la sauvegarde des lois et de la nation. Elle lance toutes les foudres de sa colère sur ceux qui voudraient y porter atteinte, et déclare ne reconnaître aucun veto qui pût les anéantir.

The Cogitator

However, I cannot pass over a very strange and extraordinary piece of Art which this Old Gentleman inform'd me of, and that was an Engine to screw a Man into himself: Perhaps our Country-men may be at some Difficulty to comprehend these things by my dull Description; and to such I cannot but recommend, a Journey in my Engine to the Moon.

This Machine that I am speaking of, contains a multitude of strange Springs and Screws, and a Man that puts himself into it, is very insensibly carried into vast Speculations, Reflexions, and regular Debates with himself: They have a very hard Name for it in those Parts; but if I were to give it an English Name, it should be call'd, The Cogitator, or the Chair of Reflection.

And First, The Person that is seated here feels some pain in passing some Negative Springs, that are wound up, effectually to shut out all Injecting, Disturbing Thoughts; and the better to prepare him for the Operation that is to follow, and this is without doubt a very rational way; for when a Man can absolutely shut out all manner of thinking, but what he is upon, he shall think the more Intensly upon the one object before him.

This Operation past, here are certain Screws that draw direct Lines from every Angle of the Engine to the Brain of the Man, and at the same time, other direct Lines to his Eyes; at the other end of which Lines, there are Glasses which convey or reflect the Objects the Person is desirous to think upon.

Then the main Wheels are turn'd, which wind up according to their several Offices; this the Memory, that the Understanding; a third the Will, a fourth the thinking Faculty; and these being put all into regular Motions, pointed by direct Lines to their proper Objects, and perfectly uninterrupted by the Intervention of Whimsy, Chimera, and a Thousand fluttering Dæmons that Gender in the Fancy, but are effectually Lockt out as before, assist one another to receive right Notions, and form just Ideas of the things they are directed to, and from thence the Man is impower'd to make right Conclusions, to think and act like himself, suitable to the sublime Qualities his Soul was originally blest with.

There never was a Man went into one of these thinking Engines, but he came wiser out than he was before; and I am persuaded, it would be a more effectual Cure to our Deism, Atheism, Scepticism, and all other Scisms, than ever the Italian's Engine, for Curing the Gout by cutting off the Toe.

This is a most wonderful Engine, and performs admirably, and my Author gave me extraordinary Accounts of the good Effects of it; and I cannot but tell my Reader, That our Sublunar World suffers Millions of Inconveniencies, for want of this thinking Engine: I have had a great many Projects in my Head, how to bring our People to regular thinking, but 'tis in vain without this Engin; and how to get the Model of it I know not; how to screw up the Will, the Understanding, and the rest of the Powers; how to bring the Eye, the Thought, the Fancy, and the Memory, into Mathematical Order, and obedient to Mechanick Operation; help Boyl, Norris, Newton, Manton, Hammond, Tillotson, and all the Learned Race, help Phylosophy, Divinity, Physicks, Oeconomicks, all's in vain, a Mechanick Chair of Reflection is the only Remedy that ever I found in my Life for this Work.

As to the Effects of Mathematical thinking, what Volumes might be writ of it will more easily appear, if we consider the wondrous Usefulness of this Engine in all humane Affairs; as of War, Peace, Justice, Injuries, Passion, Love, Marriage, Trade, Policy, and Religion.

When a Man has been screw'd into himself, and brought by this Art to a Regularity of Thought, he never commits any Absurdity after it; his Actions are squared by the same Lines, for Action is but the Consequence of Thinking; and he that acts before he thinks, sets humane Nature with the bottom upward.

M. would never have made his Speech, nor the famous B----ly wrote a Book, if ever they had been in this thinking Engine: One would have never told us of Nations he never saw, nor the other told us, he had seen a great many, and was never the Wiser.

H. had never ruin'd his Family to Marry Whore, Thief and Beggar-Woman, in one Salliant Lady, after having been told so honestly, and so often of it by the very Woman her self.

Our late unhappy Monarch had never trusted the English Clergy, when they preacht up that Non-Resistance, which he must needs see they could never Practice; had his Majesty been screw'd up into this Cogitator, he had presently reflected, that it was against Nature to expect they should stand still, and let him tread upon them: That they should, whatever they had preacht or pretended to, hold open their Throats to have them be cut, and tye their own Hands from resisting the Lord's Anointed.

Had some of our Clergy been screw'd in this Engine, they had never turned Martyrs for their Allegiance to the Late King, only for the Lechery of having Dr. S------- in their Company.

Had our Merchants been manag'd in this Engine, they had never trusted their Turkey Fleet with a famous Squadron, that took a great deal of care to Convoy them safe into the Enemies Hands.

Had some People been in this Engine, when they had made a certain League in the World, in order to make amends for a better made before, they would certainly have consider'd farther, before they had embarkt with a Nation, that are neither fit to go abroad nor stay at Home.

As for the Thinking practis'd in Noble Speeches, Occasional Bills, Addressings about Prerogative, Convocation Disputes, Turnings in and Turnings out at Ours, and all the Courts of Christendom, I have nothing to say to it.

(...)

Our Cogitator would be a very necessary thing to show some People, That Poverty and Weakness is not a sufficient Ground to oppress a Nation, and their having but little Trade, cannot be a sufficient Ground to equip Fleets to take away what they have.

I cannot deny, that I have often thought they have had something of this Engine in our Neighbouring Antient Kingdom, since no Man, however we pretend to be angry, but will own they are in the right of it, as to themselves, to Vote and procure Bills for their own Security, and not to do as others demand without Conditions fit to be accepted: But of that by it self.

There are abundance of People in Our World, of all sorts and Conditions, that stand in need of our thinking Engines, and to be screw'd into themselves a little, that they might think as directly as they speak absurdly: But of these also in a Class by it self.

This Engine has a great deal of Philosophy in it; and particularly, 'tis a wonderful Remedy against Poreing; and as it was said of Mons. Jurieu at Amsterdam, that he us'd to lose himself in himself; by the Assistance of this piece of Regularity, a Man is most effectually secur'd against bewildring Thoughts, and by direct thinking, he prevents all manner of dangerous wandring, since nothing can come to more speedy Conclusions, than that which in right Lines, points to the proper Subject of Debate.

All sorts of Confusion of Thoughts are perfectly avoided and prevented in this case, and a Man is never troubled with Spleen, Hyppo, or Mute Madness, when once he has been thus under the Operation of the Screw: It prevents abundance of Capital Disasters in Men, in private Affairs; it prevents hasty Marriages, rash Vows, Duels, Quarrels, Suits at Law, and most sorts of Repentance. In the State, it saves a Government from many Inconveniences; it checks immoderate Ambition, stops Wars, Navies and Expeditions; especially it prevents Members making long Speeches when they have nothing to say; it keeps back Rebellions, Insurrections, Clashings of Houses, Occasional Bills, Tacking, &c.

It has a wonderful Property in our Affairs at Sea, and has prevented many a Bloody Fight, in which a great many honest Men might have lost their Lives that are now useful Fellows, and help to Man and manage Her Majesty's Navy.

What if some People are apt to charge Cowardice upon some People in those Cases? 'Tis plain that cannot be it, for he that dare incur the Resentment of the English Mob, shows more Courage than would be able to carry him through Forty Sea-fights.

'Tis therefore for want of being in this Engine, that we censure People, because they don't be knocking one another on the Head, like the People at the Bear-Garden; where, if they do not see the Blood run about, they always cry out, A Cheat; and the poor Fellows are fain to cut one another, that they may not be pull'd a pieces; where the Case is plain, they are bold for fear, and pull up Courage enough to Fight, because they are afraid of the People.

This Engine prevents all sorts of Lunacies, Love-Frenzies, and Melancholy-Madness, for preserving the Thought in right Lines to direct Objects, it is impossible any Deliriums, Whimsies, or fluttering Air of Ideas, can interrupt the Man, he can never be Mad; for which reason I cannot but recommend it to my Lord S---, my Lord N---, and my Lord H-----, as absolutely necesssary to defend them from the State-Madness, which for some Ages has possest their Families, and which runs too much in the Blood.

It is also an excellent Introduction to Thought, and therefore very well adapted to those People whose peculiar Talent and Praise is, That they never think at all. Of these, if his Grace of B---d would please to accept Advice from the Man in the Moon, it should be to put himself into this Engine, as a Soveraign Cure to the known Disease call'd the Thoughtless Evil.

But above all, it is an excellent Remedy, and very useful to a sort of People, who are always Travelling in Thought, but never Deliver'd into Action; who are so exceeding busy at Thinking, they have no leisure for Action. These Gentlemen would make excellent use of this Engine, for it would teach 'em to dispatch one thing before they begin another; and therefore is of singular use to honest S----, whose peculiar it was, to be always beginning Projects, but never finish any.

The Variety of this Engine, its Uses, and Improvements, are Innumerable, and the Reader must not expect I can give any thing like a perfect Description of it.



Daniel DEFOE
The Consolidator