The Characters of Theophrastus A Translation, with Introduction · Theophrastus
THE VICIOUS MAN (XXIX.) 84
When one speaks of a coward, one means an intrinsic quality in human kind which is essentially the same whether found in a hoplite or in a modern infantryman, but which may express itself differently in the two cases. The types described by Theophrastus are types of such intrinsic qualities, and his pictures of ancient vices and weaknesses show men much as we see them now. They are not merely types of professions or callings. [Sidenote: _Similarity between Greek and Modern Types_] [Sidenote: _The Flatterer_] [Sidenote: _The Officious Man_] Apart from slight variations of local coloring and institutions, the descriptions of the old Greek philosopher might apply almost as well to the present inhabitants of London or Boston as to the Athenians of 300 B.C. Then, as now, the flatterer plied his wily trade, indulging in smooth compliment of his hero’s person or actions. “As he walks with an acquaintance, he says: ‘Behold! How the eyes of all men are turned upon you! There is not a man in the city who enjoys so much notice as yourself. Yesterday your praises were the talk of the Porch. While above thirty men were sitting there together and the conversation fell upon the topic: “Who is our noblest citizen?” they all began and ended with your name.’” “If his friend essay a jest, the flatterer laughs and stuffs his sleeve into his mouth as though he could not contain himself.” But the flatterer of old could be subtle too. “He buys apples and pears, carries them to his hero’s house, and gives them to the children, and in the presence of their father he kisses them, exclaiming: ‘Chips of the old block!’” and “while his talk is directed to others in the company, his eye is ever fixed upon his hero.” Then as now there existed the officious man, always over-ready to undertake the impossible or to interfere in the affairs of others. “At a banquet, he forces the servants to mix more wine than the guests can drink. If he sees two men in a quarrel, he rushes in between, even though he knows neither one.” “If the doctor leave instructions that no wine be given the patient, he administers ‘just a little’ on the plea that he wants to set the sufferer right.”
The story is told that Aristotle, in speaking of these two pupils, said: “Callisthenes needs a spur, but Theophrastus,[3] a bridle.” Many years later, when Aristotle was dead and Cassander (see _Character_ VII.) had gained control of Alexander’s throne, Theophrastus was invited to an office at the court where he had spent his student days, and Ptolemy Soter, Cassander’s political ally, sent him an invitation to the court of Egypt. But he declined these calls into the social and political world, and maintained steadfastly his devotion to philosophy. It was a fashion for the rectors or presidents of the great schools of Athens, such as the Cynosarges, the Academy, and the Lyceum, before their death to name their successors in office. And so when Aristotle was asked who should succeed him in the presidency of the Lyceum, tradition tells of the delicate way in which he left record of his wish. His two most distinguished pupils were Theophrastus of Lesbos and Eudemus of Rhodes. Aristotle replied to the question as to his successor by asking for two sorts of wine,—Lesbian and Rhodian. After tasting of them he said: “They are both excellent; but the Lesbian is the sweeter.”
Thereby it was known that he had decided in favor of Theophrastus, who on the death of Aristotle (322 B.C.) succeeded to the presidency of the Lyceum, over which he continued to preside for thirty-five years. His administration was one of almost unparalleled success. Diogenes Laertius reports that two thousand students thronged to him. Although not born at Athens, he was one of the most popular and beloved members of that somewhat exclusive community. This is illustrated by the story of Agonides, who preferred against him a charge of atheism,—a charge similar to that which brought Socrates to martyrdom and drove Aristotle into exile and caused his early death; but instead of injuring Theophrastus, Agonides narrowly escaped paying a fine for his folly. Amongst his contemporaries Theophrastus was a great personal force by reason of his amiable character, his charities and lavish benefactions, the amenity of his manners, his great erudition, and gifts of oratory. He died in 287 B.C. in the eighty-fifth year of his age, and Diogenes Laertius says that “the whole population of Athens, honoring him greatly, followed him to the grave.” Theophrastus was one of the greatest polygraphs of antiquity. Two hundred and twenty-seven works[4] are attributed to him. The range of his learning is similar to that of Aristotle’s, with the emphasis laid rather more strongly on the side of natural science. His genius, however, is not marked by Aristotle’s profundity. He served his age rather as a great popularizer of science; he was not an originator of epoch-making ideas or theories. Yet as a local and popular force he surpassed Aristotle. His influence on subsequent ages, however, is less marked. Of the 227 works (containing 232,908 lines) attributed to Theophrastus, fragments of nine only are now extant, excluding certain insignificant remains.
It is doubtless true, however, that he influenced his own time as much by his administrative ability in the conduct of the Lyceum and by his oral utterances as by his written treatises. His prodigious industry was no doubt partially inspired by Aristotle as well as by the swift, stirring movement of the age immediately preceding and following the death of Alexander, in which his literary manhood was passed. “Time,” he says, “is the most valuable thing a man can spend.” He expressed his sense of the value of order in the apothegm: “Better trust a horse without bridle than a discourse without arrangement.” His estimate of oral converse at table is recorded in a rather brusque and un-Athenian remark said to have been made by him to a silent neighbor at dinner: “Sir, if you are an ignorant man, your conduct shows wisdom; but if you are a wise man, you act like a fool.” The genuinely kind character of Theophrastus, however, is amply illustrated by the provisions of his will, which evidences also his very considerable wealth. He had inherited from Aristotle the largest private library then known.
This library, to which he had himself made notable additions, he bequeathed to Neleus, his nephew (Theophrastus never married), and by Neleus it was taken to Asia Minor, where it was hidden in a cellar to avoid the rapacity of the agents of the Attalid dynasty, who were seizing all available books for the Royal Library at Pergamon. And hereby hangs the curious old story of the loss of Aristotle’s works for one hundred and fifty years, until they were rediscovered, worm eaten, in the cellar of Neleus at Scepsis. A Museum,—temple of the muses,—had been built by Theophrastus as the home of the Lyceum. In his will he provided that this should be maintained and beautified, that statues of the illustrious dead (particularly of Aristotle) should be completed, for which commissions had already been given to the renowned sculptor Praxiteles; further, that tablets with maps of the world engraved on them should be erected in the lower colonnade. In acknowledgment of the claims of religion, he also directed that an altar should be placed there. He devised the garden, promenade, and houses adjoining the garden to the joint control of Hipparchus, Neleus, Strato, and their successors, as a trust, enjoining that a school of philosophy should be maintained in them, and that the property should never be alienated from this purpose nor claimed as private possession. After piously making provision for certain friends and the support of faithful attendants, he further directed that he should be buried in the school garden without unnecessary expense or ceremony.
Amongst these characters there are no virtues, and one may ask: Why is it that in his portrayal of types Theophrastus has altogether omitted any description of good men? The answer is not to be found in the supposition that such characters were originally included in the work, but have since perished. The real ground for the omission is probably to be discovered in the nature of the conditions under which Theophrastus wrote. These, as we have already indicated, were closely connected with the development of the New Comedy. The portrayal of a good character may be edifying, and may serve the conditions of tragedy, but it does not suit the purposes or surroundings of the comic stage, where the ludicrous elements of weak, eccentric, or faulty personalities are the materials employed. The aim of Theophrastus is both to amuse and to instruct, but his instruction is given by exposing to ridicule certain faults which he elevates into the striking tangibility of concrete character. The serious dignity and excellence of the good man, while it may suit the heroic conditions of the epic, the grave purpose of tragedy, or the aims of moral allegory, offers no material for such sketches as these. Theophrastus has no concern either with the grossly immoral or with the helplessly weak; the former awaken only disgust and hate, while the latter stir only feelings of pity, and neither of these emotions can be kept active in the true art of comedy. Rightly speaking, the art of Theophrastus has to do only with folly or with such eccentricities and weaknesses as have a humorous aspect. And it is only moral imperfections of this sort that we actually find in _The Characters_.
A simple line, however, does not constitute a sketch; to exhibit a character, the sketch must not only be clear but complete. The coward, _e.g._, is sketched in his fear at sea, where his timid imagination invents dangers, and he wishes to be put ashore; he is sketched on the field of battle, where he tries to impress his comrades by a courage that he does not feel; but when he hears the shouts of war and sees the soldiers fall, he shrinks faint-hearted to his tent and there searches for the sword he has himself hid; and again when the danger is over he resumes his bold exterior and proclaims his daring rescue of a comrade. We have here a pictorial sketch which, with its life and action, appeals to the reader’s eye. The coward is shown from various points of view, always in new lights, but he is always the coward. The canons of this species of literary art may be summarized as follows: 1.—_Faithfulness to reality_: The character must be an accurate report of nature and not a caricature. It must be executed in the spirit of realism. 2.—_Brevity_: It must be slight and swift, essentially of the nature of a sketch. 3.—_Humor_: It must have the sprightliness of statement that amuses while it instructs. 4.—_Type_: It must be illustrative of a generic or typical fault. In other words, the character must give embodiment to some fault that touches human nature in an essential and universal way. 5.—_Concreteness_: The fault as an abstraction must be translated by the artist’s power into a concrete personal form. The foible must be revealed in a genre picture of a living personality.
The brilliant but ill-starred Sir Thomas Overbury, in his _Characters or Witty Descriptions of the Properties of Sundry Persons_ (London, 1614; went through eighteen editions), departs from the usage of Theophrastus in depicting for the most part amusing accidents of character and humorous peculiarities of trades and professions. Bishop Earle, on the other hand, in his _Micro-cosmographie_ (London, 1628) confined his character delineation to _mores hominum_, to ethical types of men as such, in a spirit similar to that of his Greek model. The best known of all the imitators of Theophrastus, if he can be called an imitator at all, is La Bruyère, in his _Les caractères ou les mœurs de ce siècle_ (Paris, 1688). The _caractères_ of La Bruyère are really satires on certain thinly disguised contemporaries of his own and are executed in a spirited method totally different from that of Theophrastus, but to which a translation of _The Characters_ of Theophrastus is added. La Bruyère was a lover of the ancient classics, although his translation or paraphrase was hardly more than a pretext for writing down his own description of the manners of his time. It furnished him, perhaps, the first suggestion and the first impulse to the portrayal of the vices and weaknesses of his contemporaries on a much larger scale than Theophrastus had attempted.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.