a vulgar error. Though the
majority of men may be ignorant of the causes of love, it is none
the less true that all sympathy, moral or physical, is based upon
calculations made either by the mind, or by sentiment or brutality. Love
is an essentially selfish passion. Self means deep calculation. To every
mind which looks only at results, it will seem at first sight singular
and unlikely that a beautiful girl like Cesarine should love a poor lame
fellow with red hair. Yet this phenomenon is completely in harmony with
the arithmetic of middle-class sentiments. To explain it, would be
to give the reason of marriages which are constantly looked upon with
surprise,--marriages between tall and beautiful women and puny men, or
between ugly little creatures and handsome men. Every man who is
cursed with some bodily infirmity, no matter what it is,--club-feet, a
halting-gait, a humped-back, excessive ugliness, claret stains upon the
cheek, Roguin's species of deformity, and other monstrosities the result
of causes beyond the control of the sufferer,--has but two courses open
to him: either he must make himself feared, or he must practise the
virtues of exquisite loving-kindness; he is not permitted to float in
the middle currents of average conduct which are habitual to other men.
If he takes the first course he probably has talent, genius, or strength
of will; a man inspires terror only by the power of evil, respect by
genius, fear through force of mind. If he chooses the second course, he
makes himself adored; he submits to feminine tyranny, and knows better
how to love than men of irreproachable bodily condition.

Anselme, brought up by virtuous people, by the Ragons, models of the
honorable bourgeoisie, and by his uncle the judge, had been led, through
his ingenuous nature and his deep religious sentiments, to redeem the
slight deformity of his person by the perfection of his character.
Constance and Cesar, struck by these tendencies, so attractive in youth,
had repeatedly sung his praises before Cesarine. Petty as they might be
in many ways, husband and wife were noble by nature, and understood the
deep things of the heart. Their praises found an echo in the mind of the
young girl, who, despite her innocence, had read in Anselme's pure eyes
the violent feeling, which is always flattering whatever be the lover's
age, or rank, or personal appearance. Little Popinot had far more
reason to adore a woman than a handsome man could