Page:Letters of Mlle. de Lespinasse.djvu/337

She was far from beautiful, and her features were still further marred by the small-pox ; but her plainness had noth- ing repulsive at the first glance ; at the second the eye grew accustomed to it, and as soon as she spoke it was forgot- ten. She was tall and well-made. I did not know her until she was thirty-eight years old, and her figure was still noble and full of grace. But what she possessed, what distin- guished her above all, was that chief charm without which beauty is but a cold perfection — expression of countenance l_physionomie']. Hers had no particular character; it united all. Thus one could not say precisely that it was clever, or brilliant, or sweet, or noble, or refined, or gracious, — a species of praise by which, as I think, we degrade the faces we wish to praise ; for when a face has an habitual expression, that expression is more the effect of conformation and what may be called style of feature, than physionomie — revelation of nature. That revelation on the countenance comes from within, it is born of thought, it is mobile and fugitive; it escapes the eye and mocks the brush. O Eliza, Eliza, whoso has not had the happiness to live in your intimacy, in your affections, your emotions, your confidence, knows nothing of what is meant by expression of countenance. I have seen faces animated by intellect, by passion, by pleasure, by pain ; but lights and shades were all unknown to me until I knew Eliza. That flame of heaven, that energy of feeling, — in short, if I may so express it, that abundance of life, — Eliza, when she was not overwhelmed by troubles, shed on all that she wished to animate ; but she wished nothing for herself ; she animated all without personal pretensions or projects. One never approached her soul without feeling drawn by it. I have known apathetic hearts which she electrified ; I have seen dull minds that her companionship had elevated. "Eliza," I said to her once, after seeing her perform that operation,