
The felicities of design in art, or in works of Nature, are shadows or forerunners of that beauty that reaches its perfection in the human form.
All men are its lovers.
Wherever it goes, it creates joy and hilarity, and everything is permitted to it.
It reaches its height in women.
“To Eve,” say the Mahometans, “God gave two-thirds of all beauty.”
A beautiful woman is a practical poet, taming her savage mate, planting tenderness, hope, and eloquence, in all whom she approaches.

Some favors of condition must go with it since a certain serenity is essential, but we love its reproofs and superiorities.
Nature wishes that woman should attract man, yet she often cunningly molds into her face a little sarcasm, which seems to say, ‘Yes, I am willing to attract, but to attract a little better kind of a man than any I yet behold.

‘ French mémoires of the fifteenth century celebrate the name of Pauline de Viguerie, a virtuous and accomplished maiden, who so fired the enthusiasm of her contemporaries, by her enchanting form, that the citizens of her native city of Toulouse obtained the aid of the civil authorities to compel her to appear publicly on the balcony at least twice a week, and, as often as she showed herself, the crowd was dangerous to live.
Not less, in England, in the last century, was the fame of the Gunnings, of whom, Elizabeth married the Duke of Hamilton; and Maria, the Earl of Coventry.
Walpole says, “the concourse was so great when the Duchess of Hamilton was presented at court, on Friday, that even the noble crowd in the drawing-room clambered on chairs and tables to look at her.
There are mobs at their doors to see them get into their chairs, and people go early to get places at the theatres when it is known they will be there.”
“Such crowds,” he adds, elsewhere, “flock to see the Duchess of Hamilton, that seven hundred people sat up all night, in and about an inn, in Yorkshire, to see her get into her post-chaise next morning.”



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