Yet the manner, and the air, made up (as I intended they should) for that defect.
What we imagine to be a superior perfection, may really be a defect.
Rousseau's Confessions has precisely this defect—he read it to his friends.
Most often a virtue presents itself side by side with a defect.
Some defect in the latter may be excused, but not in the former.
And we have ...