Women are very sensible of this; for which reason they learn to lisp, to totter in their walk, to counterfeit weakness, and even sickness.  In all this they are guided by nature.  Beauty in distress is much the most affecting beauty.  Blushing has little less power; and modesty in general, which is a tacit allowance of imperfection, is itself considered as an amiable quality, and certainly heightens every other that is so.  I know it is in every body’s mouth, that we ought to love perfection.  This is to me a sufficient proof, that it is not the proper object of love.  Who ever said we ought to love a fine woman, or even any of these beautiful animals which please us?  Here to be affected, there is no need of the concurrence of our will.

SECTION X.

HOW FAR THE IDEA OF BEAUTY MAY BE APPLIED TO THE QUALITIES OF THE MIND.

Nor is this remark in general less applicable to the qualities of the mind.  Those virtues which cause admiration, and are of the sublimer kind, produce terror rather than love; such as fortitude, justice, wisdom, and the like.  Never was any man amiable by force of these qualities.  Those which engage our hearts, which impress us with a sense of loveliness, are the softer virtues; easiness of temper, compassion, kindness, and liberality; though certainly those latter are of less immediate and momentous concern to society, and of less dignity.  But it is for that reason that they are so amiable.  The great virtues turn principally on dangers, punishments, and troubles, and are exercised, rather in preventing the worst mischiefs, than in dispensing favors; and are therefore not lovely, though highly venerable.  The subordinate turn on reliefs, gratifications, and indulgences; and are therefore more lovely, though inferior in dignity.  Those persons who creep into the hearts of most people, who are chosen as the companions of their softer hours, and their reliefs from care and anxiety, are never persons of shining qualities or strong virtues.  It is rather the soft green of the soul on which we rest our eyes, that are fatigued with beholding more glaring objects.  It is worth observing how we feel ourselves affected in reading the characters of Caesar and Cato, as they are so finely drawn and contrasted in Sallust.  In one the ignoscendo largiundo; in the other, nil largiundo.  In one, the miseris perfugium; in the other, malis perniciem.  In the latter we have much to admire, much to reverence, and perhaps something to fear; we respect him, but we respect him at a distance.  The former makes us familiar with him; we love him, and he leads us whither he pleases.  To draw things closer to our first and most natural feelings, I will add a remark made upon reading this section by an ingenious friend.  The authority of a father, so useful to our well-being, and so justly venerable upon all accounts, hinders us from having that entire love for him that we have for our mothers, where the parental authority is almost melted down into the mother’s fondness and indulgence.  But we generally have a great love for our grandfathers, in whom this authority is removed a degree from us, and where the weakness of age mellows it into something of a feminine partiality.