nly
attribute this to hard work; moreover, my Swiss girl was only
eighteen, and yet I remained entirely cold. What was the cause of
this? That was the question that I asked myself."

"It is clear," wrote Stendhal, "that three parts of modesty are
taught. This is, perhaps, the only law born of civilization which
produces nothing but happiness. It has been observed that birds
of prey hide themselves to drink, because, being obliged to
plunge their heads in the water, they are at that moment
defenceless. After having considered what passes at Otaheite, I
can see no other natural foundation for modesty. Love is the
miracle of civilization. Among savage and very barbarous races we
find nothing but physical love of a gross character. It is
modesty that gives to love the aid of imagination, and in so
doing imparts life to it. Modesty is very early taught to little
girls by their mothers, and with extreme jealousy, one might say,
by _esprit de corps_. They are watching in advance over the
happiness of the future lover. To a timid and tender woman there
ought to be no greater torture than to allow herself in the
presence of a man something which she thinks she ought to blush
at. I am convinced that a proud woman would prefer a thousand
deaths. A slight liberty taken on the tender side by the man she
loves gives a woman a moment of keen pleasure, but if he has the
air of blaming her for it, or only of not enjoying it with
transport, an awful doubt must be left in her mind. For a woman
above the vulgar level there is, then, everything to gain by very
reserved manners. The play is not equal. She hazards against a
slight pleasure, or against the advantage of appearing a little
amiable, the danger of biting remorse, and a feeling of shame
which must render even the lover less dear. An evening passed
gaily and thoughtlessly, without thinking of what comes after, is
dearly paid at this price. The sight of a lover with whom one
fears that one has had this kind of wrong must become odious for
several days. Can one be surprised at the force of a habit, the
slightest infractions of which are punished with such atrocious
shame? As to the utility of modesty, it is the mother of love. As
to the mechanism of the feeling, nothing is simpler. The mind is
absorbed in feeling shame instead of being oc