Sex--a characteristic animals possess or an act they engage in， defi-<br >nitely not a topic fit for public conversation. Such is what genteel<br >nineteenth-century Americans must have believed， or so the prevalent<br >image of Victorian prudishness would lead us to think. There is， of<br >course， a measure of truth behind the stereotype of nineteenth-century<br >sexual repressiveness: some of our ancestors did express acute discom-<br >fort when confronted with anything erotic. Edward Livingston， a<br >pioneer judicial reformer， omitted certain sexual offenses from a<br >model law code he drafted for the new state of Louisiana， reasoning<br >that a body of laws should be open to the public and "as every crime<br >must be defined， the details of such a definition would inflict a lasting<br >wound on the morals of the people." 1 To talk about sexual trans-<br >gressions， even for the sake of punishing them， would， in Livingston s<br >view， encourage depravity. (His scruples did not prohibit discussing<br >crimes of violence.) Some nineteenth-century foreign visitors also<br >thought they detected in Americans an especial squeamishness re-<br >garding sexual and bodily functions. Captain Frederick Marryat， a<br >worldly English novelist and ex-sailor， was one of those who found<br >American sensitivity remarkable. "They object to everything nude in<br >statuary，" Marryat complained， slyly pointing out that Americans<br >"forget that very often in the covering and the covering only， consists<br >the indecency " Marryat further cited the example of a girl whose<br >modesty was so highly developed that she was deeply offended when<br >he used the word "leg" to refer to the "limb" she injured in a fall.<br >