frain from mentioning the names of Freron and Des Fontaines. But
nowhere yet had criticism acquired anything like vividness, fertility,
and penetration; it had not yet found its soul. Diderot was the first to
find it. Naturally inclined to look over defects, and to admire good
qualities, "I am more affected," he remarked, "by the charms of virtue
than the deformity of vice; I quietly turn away from the wicked and _fly
forward to meet the good_. If there happens to be a beautiful spot in a
book, a character, a picture, or a statue, it is there that I let my
eyes rest; I can only see this beautiful spot, I can only remember it,
while the rest I nearly forget. What do I become when everything is
beautiful!" This inclination to welcome everything with enthusiasm--this
sort of universal admiration--undoubtedly had its danger. It is said of
him that he was singularly happy "in never having encountered a wicked
man nor a bad book." For, even if the book were bad, he would
unconsciously impute to the author some of his own ideas. Like the
alchemist, he found gold in the melting-pot, from the fact he had placed
it there himself. However, it is to him that all honour is due for
having introduced among us the fertile criticism of _beauties_, which he
substituted for that of _defects_. Chateaubriand himself, in that
portion of the _Genius of Christianity_ in which he eloquently
discourses on literary criticism, only follows the path opened by
Diderot....

"A pleasure that I enjoy alone affects me but slightly, and is of short
duration. It is for my friends as well as myself that I read, that I
reflect, that I write, that I meditate, that I listen, that I look, that
I feel. In their absence I am still devoted to them; I am continually
thinking of their happiness. If I am struck with a beautiful line, they
must know it. If I meet with a fine passage, I promise myself to impart
it to them. If I have before my eyes some enchanting spectacle, I
unconsciously plan a description of it for their benefit. I have
consecrated to them the use of all my senses and faculties; and it is
perhaps for this reason that everything becomes somewhat enriched in my
imagination and exaggerated in my discourse. Nevertheless, the
ungrateful creatures sometimes reproach me."

LA BRUYERE
[Sidenote: _Sainte-Beuve_]

That philosopher, always accessible, even in the deepest studies, who
tells you to come in, for you bring him something more precious than
g