So obscure were these speeches I knew not how to answer: however, reply to him I did, on a chance, as it were, and perhaps with too great a facility. Must I confess it?
Alas1! yes; to
conceal2 my shortcomings would be to wrong your confidence and poorly to respond to the interest my misfortunes have quickened in you. Hear then, Madame, of the one deliberate fault with which I have to reproach myself.... What am I saying, a fault? It was a
folly3, an extravagance... there has never been one to equal it; but at least it is not a crime, it is merely a mistake, for which I alone have been punished, and of which it surely does not seem that the
equitable4 hand of Heaven had to make use in order to
plunge5 me into the abyss which yawned beneath me soon
afterward6.
Whatever the
foul7 treatment to which the Comte de Bressac had exposed me the first day I had met him, it had, all the same, been impossible to see him so frequently without feeling myself
drawn8 toward him by an insuperable and
instinctive9 tenderness. Despite all my recollections of his cruelty, all my thoughts upon his disinclinations toward women, upon the depravity of his tastes, upon the
gulf10 which separated us morally, nothing in the world was able to extinguish this
nascent11 passion, and had the Count called upon me to lay down my life, I would have sacrificed it for him a thousand times over. He was far from suspecting my sentiments... he was far, the ungrateful one, from divining the cause of the tears I shed every day; nevertheless, it was out of the question for him to be in doubt of my eagerness to fly to do his every bidding, to please him in every possible way, it could not have been he did not glimpse, did not have some inkling of my attentions; doubtless, because they were instinctive, they were also mindless, and went to the point of serving his errors, of serving them as far as
decency12 permitted, and always of hiding them from his aunt. This behavior had in some sort won me his confidence, and all that came from him was so precious to me, I was so blinded by the little his heart offered me, that I sometimes had the weakness to believe he was not indifferent to me. But how
promptly13 his excessive
disorders14 disabused15 me: they were such that even his health was
affected16. I several times took the liberty to represent to him the dangers of his conduct, he would hear me out patiently, then end by telling me that one does not break oneself of the
vice17 he cherished.
"Ah, Therese!" he exclaimed one day, full of enthusiasm, "if only you knew this fantasy's charms, if only you could understand what one experiences from the sweet illusion of being no more than a woman! incredible inconsistency I one
abhors18 that sex, yet one wishes to imitate it! Ah! how sweet it is to succeed, Therese, how delicious it is to be a slut to everyone who would have to do with you and carrying
delirium19 and prostitution to their ultimate period, successively, in the very same day, to be the mistress of a porter, a marquis, a valet, a friar, to be the beloved of each one after the other,
caressed20, envied, menaced, beaten, sometimes
victorious21 in their arms, sometimes a victim and at their feet, melting them with
caresses22, reanimating them with excesses.... Oh no, Therese, you do not understand what is this pleasure for a mind constructed like mine....
But, morals aside, if you are able to imagine this divine whimsy's physical sensations, there is no withstanding it, it is a
titillation23 so lively, it is of so
piquant24 a
voluptuousness25... one becomes giddy, one ceases to reason,
stammers26; a thousand kisses one more tender than the next do not
inflame27 us with an
ardor28 in any way approaching the drunkenness into which the agent
plunges29 us; enlaced in his arms, our mouth glued to his, we would that our entire being were incorporated into his; we would not make but a single being with him; if we dare complain, 'tis of being neglected; we would have him, more
robust30 than Hercules, enlarge us,
penetrate31 us; we would have that precious semen, shot blazing to the depths of our entrails, cause, by its heat and its strength, our own to leap
forth32 into his hands.... Do not suppose, Therese, we are made like other men; 'tis an
entirely33 different structure we have; and, in creating us, Heaven has
ornamented34 the altars at which our Celadons sacrifice with that very same sensitive
membrane35 which lines your temple of Venus; we are, in that
sector37, as certainly women as you are in your generative
sanctuary38; not one of your pleasures is unknown to us, there is not one we do not know how to enjoy, but we have in addition to them our own, and it is this delicious combination which makes us of all men on earth the most sensitive to pleasure, the best created to experience it; it is this
enchanting39 combination which renders our tastes
incorrigible40, which would turn us into
enthusiasts41 and frenetics were one to have the stupidity to punish us... which makes us worship, unto the grave itself, the charming God who
enthralls42 us."#p#分页标题#e#
Thus the Count expressed himself, celebrating his
eccentricities43; when I strove to speak to him of the Being to whom he owed everything, and of the grief such disorders caused his respectable aunt, I perceived nothing in him but spleen and ill-humor and especially
impatience44 at having to see, in such hands and for so long, riches which, he would say, already ought to belong to him; I saw nothing but the most
inveterate45 hatred46 for that so gentle woman, nothing but the most
determined47 revolt against every natural sentiment. It would then be true that when in one's tastes one has been able so formally to
transgress48 that law's sacred instinct, the necessary consequence of this original crime is a
frightful49 penchant50 to commit every other.
Sometimes I employed the means Religion provides; almost always comforted by it, I attempted to
insinuate51 its sweetnesses into this
perverse52 creature's soul, more or less certain he could be restrained by those bonds were I to succeed in having him strike at the
lure53; but the Count did not long tolerate my use of such weapons. A declared enemy of our most holy mysteries, a stubborn critic of the purity of our dogmas, an impassioned
antagonist54 of the idea of a
Supreme55 Being's existence, Monsieur de Bressac, instead of letting himself be converted by me, sought rather to work my
corruption56.
"All religions start from a false
premise57, Therese," he would say; "each supposes as necessary the worship of a Creator, but that creator never existed. In this connection, put yourself in mind of the sound
precepts58 of that certain Coeur-de-fer who, you told me, used to
labor59 over your mind as I do; nothing more just, nor more precise, than that man's principles, and the
degradation60 in which we have the stupidity to keep him does not deprive him of the right to reason well.
"If all Nature's productions are the resultant effects of the laws whereof she is a captive; if her perpetual action and reaction suppose the motion necessary to her essence, what becomes of the sovereign master fools
gratuitously62 give her? that is what your sagacious
instructor63 said to you, dear girl. What, then, are religions if not the restraint wherewith the tyranny of the
mightier64 sought to enslave the weaker? Motivated by that design, he dared say to him whom he claimed the right to dominate, that a God had forged the irons with which cruelty manacled him; and the latter, bestialized by his
misery65, indistinctly believed everything the former wished. Can religions, born of these rogueries, merit respect? Is there one of them, Therese, which does not bear the stamp of
imposture66 and of stupidity? What do I
descry67 in them all? Mysteries which cause reason to
shudder68, dogmas which
outrage69 Nature,
grotesque70 ceremonies which simply inspire derision and disgust.
But if amongst them all there were one which most particularly deserves our scorn and hatred, O Therese, is it not that barbaric law of the Christianity into which both of us were born? Is there any more
odious71? one which so spurs both the heart and mind to revolt? How is it that rational men are still able to lend any
credence72 to the obscure mutterings, to the
alleged73 miracles of that
appalling74 cult75's
vile76 originator? Has there ever existed a rowdy scoundrel more
worthy77 of public indignation! What is he but a leprous Jew who, born of a slut and a soldier in the world's meanest
stews78, dared fob himself off for the spokesman of him who, they say, created the universe! With such lofty
pretensions79, you will have to admit, Therese, at least a few
credentials80 are necessary. But what are those of this ridiculous Ambassador? What is he going to do to prove his mission? Is the earth's face going to be changed? are the plagues which
beset81 it going to be
annihilated82? is the sun going to shine upon it by night as well as by day?
vices83 will soil it no more? Are we going to see happiness
reign61 at last?... Not at all; it is through hocus-pocus, antic
capers84, and puns...
(The Marquis de Bievre never made one quite as clever as the Nazarene's to his
disciple85: "Thou art Peter and upon this Rock I will build my Church"; and they tell Us that
witty86 language is one of our century's innovations!)
...that God's
envoy87 announces himself to the world; it is in the elegant society of manual
laborers88, artisans, and streetwalkers that Heaven's minister comes to manifest his
grandeur89; it is by drunken
carousing90 with these, bedding with those, that God's friend, God himself, comes to bend the toughened sinner to his laws; it is by inventing nothing for his
farces91 but what can satisfy either his
lewdness92 or his gourmand's
guts93 that the
knavish94 fellow demonstrates his mission; however all that may be, he makes his fortune; a few beef-witted satellites gravitate toward the
villain95; a
sect36 is formed; this crowd's dogmas manage to
seduce96 some Jews; slaves of the Roman power, they
joyfully97 embrace a religion which, ridding them of their
shackles98, makes them subject to none but a metaphysical tyranny.#p#分页标题#e#
Their
motives99 become evident, their indocility unveils itself, the seditious louts are arrested; their captain perishes, but of a death doubtless much too merciful for his species of crime, and through an unpardonable
lapse100 of intelligence, this
uncouth101 boor's
disciples102 are allowed to
disperse103 instead of being
slaughtered104 cheek to jowl with their leader.
Fanaticism105 gets minds in its grip, women
shriek106, fools scrape and scuffle, imbeciles believe, and lo! the most
contemptible107 of beings, the most
maladroit108 quacksalver, the clumsiest impostor ever to have made his entrance, there he is:
behold109! God, there's God's little boy, his papa's peer; and now all his dreams are
consecrated110 I and now all his epigrams are become dogmas! and all his blunders mysteries! His
fabulous111 father's breast opens to receive him and that Creator, once upon a time simple, of a sudden becomes compound, triple, to humor his son, this lad so worthy of his greatness; but does that sacred God stick at that? No, surely not, his
celestial112 might is going to
bestow113 many another and greater favor.
At the beck and call of a priest, of, that is to say, an odd fellow foul with lies, the great God, creator of all we behold, is going to
abase114 himself to the point of
descending115 ten or twelve million times every morning in a
morsel116 of wheat paste; this the faithful
devour117 and assimilate, and God
Almighty118 is
lugged120 to the bottom of their
intestines121 where he is speedily
transmuted122 into the
vilest123 excrements, and all that for the satisfaction of the tender son, odious inventor of this
monstrous124 impiety125 which had its beginnings in a cabaret supper.
He spake, and it was
ordained126. He said: this bread you see will be my flesh; you will digest it as such; now, I am God; hence, God will be digested by you; hence, the Creator of Heaven and Earth will be changed, because I have spoken, into the vilest stuff the body of man can
exhale127, and man will eat his God, because this God is good and because he is
omnipotent128. However, these blatherings increase; their growth is attributed to their
authenticity129, their greatness, their
sublimity130 to the puissance of him who introduced them, while in truth the commonest causes double their existence, for the credit error acquires never proved anything but the presence of swindlers on the one side and of idiots on the other. This
infamous131 religion finally arrives on the throne, and it is a weak, cruel, ignorant and fanatical emperor who,
enveloping132 it in the royal
mantle133, soils the four corners of the earth with it. 0 Therese, what weight are these arguments to carry with an inquiring and
philosophic134 mind? Is the
sage135 able to see anything in this appalling heap of
fables136 but the disgusting fruit of a few men's imposture and the diddled credulity of a vast number? had God willed it that we have some religion or other, and had he been truly powerful or, to frame it more suitably, had there truly been a God, would it have been by these absurd means he would have imparted his instructions to us? Would it have been through the voice of a contemptible bandit he would have shown how it were necessary to serve him? Were he supreme, were he
mighty119, were he just, were he good, this God you tell me about, would it be through
enigmas137 and buffooneries he would wish to teach me to serve and know him? Sovereign mover of the stars and the heart of man, may he not instruct us by employing the one or convince us by graving himself in the other? Let him, one of these days, upon the Sun
indite138 the law,
writ139 out in letters of fire, the law as he wants us to understand it, in the version that pleases him; then from one end of the universe to the other, all mankind will read it, will behold it at once, and thereafter will be guilty if they obey it not. But to indicate his desires nowhere but in some unknown corner of Asia; to select for witnesses the
craftiest140 and most visionary of people, for alter
ego141 the meanest artisan, the most absurd, him of the greatest
rascality142; to frame his
doctrine143 so confusedly it is impossible to make it out; to limit knowledge of it to a small group of individuals; to leave the others in error and to punish them for remaining there.... Why, no, Therese, no, these
atrocities144 are not what we want for our guidance; I should prefer to die a thousand deaths rather than believe them. When
atheism145 will wish for
martyrs146, let it designate them; my blood is ready to be shed. Let us
detest147 these horrors, Therese; let the most
steadfast148 outrages149 cement the scorn which is patently their due.... My eyes were barely open when I began to
loathe150 these coarse reveries; very early I made it a law unto myself to
trample151 them in the dust, I took oath to return to them never more; if you would be happy, imitate me; as do I, hate,
abjure152,
profane153 the foul object of this dreadful cult; and this cult too, created for illusion, made like him to be
reviled154 by everyone who pretends to wisdom."