In 1691 he endeavoured to be elected a member of the French

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Transcriberʼs note:

Due to the error in the numbering of the chapters in the original

(no chapter number II and no chapter number for chapter “OF FASHION”),

chapters have been renumbered as follows:

I->I, III->II, IV->III, V->IV, VI->V, VII->VI, VIII->VII, IX-VIII,

X->IX, XI->X, XII->XI, XIII->XII, (OF FASHION)->XIII, XV->XIV, XVI->XV,

XVII->XVI.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

THE “CHARACTERS”

OF

JEAN DE LA BRUYÈRE

_PUBLISHERʼS NOTE._

_Three hundred copies of this book printed for England, and two

hundred, with an American imprint, for sale in that country. No more

will be printed._

_No. 13_

[Illustration: JEAN DE LA BRUYÈRE]

_LA BRUYÈRE_

THE “CHARACTERS”

OF

JEAN DE LA BRUYÈRE

_NEWLY RENDERED INTO ENGLISH_

BY HENRI VAN LAUN

With an Introduction, a Biographical Memoir

and Notes

_ILLUSTRATED WITH TWENTY-FOUR ETCHINGS_

BY B. DAMMAN AND V. FOULQUIER

LONDON

JOHN C. NIMMO

14, KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAND, W.C.

1885

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CONTENTS.

PAGE

INTRODUCTION _11_

BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR _26_

PREFACE i

OF WORKS OF THE MIND 7

OF PERSONAL MERIT 39

OF WOMEN 58

OF THE AFFECTIONS 86

OF SOCIETY AND OF CONVERSATION 100

OF THE GIFTS OF FORTUNE 132

OF THE TOWN 164

OF THE COURT 183

OF THE GREAT 221

OF THE SOVEREIGN AND THE STATE 245

OF MANKIND 271

OF OPINIONS 328

OF FASHION 377

OF CERTAIN CUSTOMS 403

OF THE PULPIT 442

OF FREETHINKERS 459

[Illustration]

LIST OF EMBELLISHMENTS.

Etchings—Portraits.

PAGE

JEAN DE LA BRUYÈRE _Frontispiece_

MONTAIGNE 23

DESCARTES 151

LE BRUN 236

LOUIS XIV. 270

WILLIAM III. 374

BOSSUET 453

Etchings—Vignettes.

THE AUTHOR i

STUDY 7

TIRED OUT 39

THE TOILETTE 58

AFFECTION 86

SOCIETY 100

RUSTIC COURTSHIP 132

THE TUILERIES 164

THE COURT 183

THE GREAT 221

THE PRICE OF GLORY 245

THE CONSULTATION 271

DIFFERENT OPINIONS 328

THE BIRD-FANCIER 377

NOBLE AND CITIZEN 403

MONK PREACHING 442

BELIEF 459

[Illustration]

INTRODUCTION.

It is a common practice for translators to state to the public that the

author they are going to introduce, and whom they sometimes traduce,

is one of the greatest men of the age, and that already for a long

time a general desire has been felt to make the acquaintance of such a

master-mind. It would be an insult to French scholars to speak thus of

La Bruyère, for the merits of his “Characters” are known; but, for the

benefit of those who are not so well acquainted with our author, I may

state that he is neither so terse, epigrammatic, sublime, nor profound

as either Pascal or La Rochefoucauld are, but that he is infinitely

more readable, as he is always trying to please his readers, and now

and then sacrifices even a certain depth of thought to attain his

object.

La Bruyère takes good care to tell us that he has not imitated any

one; Pascal “makes metaphysics subservient to religion, explains the

nature of the soul, its passions and vices; treats of the great and

serious motives which lead to virtue, and endeavours to make a man a

Christian;” La Rochefoucauldʼs “mind, instructed by his knowledge

of society, and with a delicacy equal to his penetration, observed

that self-love in man was the cause of all his errors, and attacked

it without intermission, wherever it was found; and this one thought,

multiplied as it were in a thousand different ways by a choice of words

and a variety of expression, has always the charm of novelty.”[1] Our

author, on the contrary, openly declares: “I did not wish to write any

maxims, for they are like moral laws, and I acknowledge that I possess

neither sufficient authority nor genius for a legislator.”[2]

What is the plan and idea of the book of “Characters?” Let La Bruyère

himself answer this: “Of the sixteen chapters which compose it, there

are fifteen wholly employed in detecting the fallacy and ridicule

to be found in the objects of human passions and inclinations, and

in demolishing such obstacles as at first weaken, and afterwards

extinguish, any knowledge of God in mankind; therefore, these chapters

are merely preparatory to the sixteenth and last, wherein atheism is

attacked, and perhaps routed, wherein the proofs of a God, such at

least as weak man is capable of receiving, are produced; wherein the

providence of God is defended against the insults and complaints of

freethinkers.”[3]

La Bruyère is not a speculative moralist, but an observer of the

manners of men, or, as he likes to call himself a philosopher, and

above all a Christian philosopher, such as a friend of Bossuet ought

to be. He was the first to make morality attractive, and to paint

characters in a literary and delicate manner; he does not dogmatise,

and above all shows neither personal hatred nor venom; in other words,

to use his own expressions, he “gives back to the public what it

lent”[4] him.

Underneath the literary man people often look for the man, with all

his passion, his likes and dislikes; hence the many “Keys” of the

“Characters,” published during the authorʼs lifetime and after his

death, in which all kinds of allusions were attempted, and all sorts of

hypothetical explanations ventured on.

Of the concocters of the “Keys” La Bruyère speaks as follows:

“They make it their business, if possible, to discover to which of

their friends or enemies these portraits can apply; they neglect

everything that seems like a sound remark or a serious reflection,

though almost the whole book consists of them; they dwell upon nothing

but the portraits or characters, and after having explained them

in their own way, and after they imagine they have found out the

originals, they publish to the world long lists, or, as they call them,

‘Keys,’ but which are indeed ‘false keys,’ and as useless to them as

they are injurious to the persons whose names are deciphered, and to

the writer who is the cause of it, though an involuntary one.”[5]

And yet some of these “Keys” have been of great use to modern

commentators, and served to elucidate several traits in the

“Characters” which otherwise would not have been discovered.

It would be ridiculous to deny that La Bruyère never had any particular

personage in view in delineating a certain character, but, as he

himself says: “If I might be allowed to be a little vain, I should be

apt to believe that my “Characters” have pretty well portrayed men in

general, since they resemble so many in particular; and since every one

thinks he finds there his neighbour or his countryman. I did indeed

paint after the life, but did not always mean to paint, in my book of

“Characters,” one individual or another. I did not hire myself out to

the public to draw only such portraits as should be true and like the

originals, for fear that sometimes they would be thought incredible,

and appear feigned or imaginary ones. Becoming yet more difficult I

went farther, and took one lineament from one person and one from

another, and from these several lineaments, which might be found in one

and the same person, I drew some likely portraits, studying not so much

to please the reader by describing the characters of certain people,

or, as the malcontents would say, by satirising them, as to lay before

him what faults he ought to avoid, and what examples to follow.”[6]

Our author, therefore, did not wish to depict individuals, but men

in general; for man is the same in all seasons and at all times, and

is swayed by the same motives and passions, though they exercise a

different influence in various ages, produce different results amongst

many races, and do not even act in precisely the same manner in divers

centuries, climates, and under heterogeneous circumstances. He had

no intention of presenting a series of historical events,[7] but of

depicting Frenchmen at the end of the seventeenth century as they

lived, breathed, and moved; not animated by violent likes and dislikes,

as those of the Ligue or the Fronde were, nor filled by the importance

of their own overweening individualities. When we read him, we behold

in our mindʼs eye the subdued subjects of Louis XIV., slavishly obeying

the “Roi Soleil,” admitting the King can do no wrong, becoming devout

to please His Majesty and Madame de Maintenon, inaugurating the reign

of courtly hypocrisy, embracing the principle of one religion in one

state, and seeing the royal sun gradually decline, and the star of

William III. in its ascendancy.

The notes of the present edition are necessary, I imagine, to assist

in illustrating the life of a past age, for “no usages or customs

are perennial, but they vary with the times.... Nothing can be more

opposed to our manners than all these things; but the distance of

time makes us relish them.” The “Characters” themselves, as well as

the notes, represent a “history of ... times,” when the usual custom

was “the selling of offices; that is to say, the power of protecting

innocence, punishing guilt, and doing justice to the world, bought with

ready money like a farm.” They will also make my readers acquainted

with “a great city,” which at the end of the seventeenth century was

“without any public places, baths, fountains, amphitheatres, galleries,

porticoes, or public walks, and this the capital of a powerful

kingdom; they will be told of persons whose whole life was spent in

going from one house to another; of decent women who kept neither

shops nor inns, yet had their houses open for those who would pay for

their admission,[8] and where they could choose between dice, cards,

and other games, where feasting was going on, and which were very

convenient for all kinds of intercourse. They will be informed that

people crowded the street only to be thought in a hurry; that there

was no conversation nor cordiality, but that they were confused, and,

as it were, alarmed by the rattle of coaches which they had to avoid,

and which drove through the streets as if for a prize at some race.

People will learn, without being greatly astonished, that in times

of public peace and tranquillity, the inhabitants went to church and

visited ladies and their friends, whilst wearing offensive weapons; and

that there was hardly any one who did not have dangling at his side

wherewith to kill another person with one thrust.”[9]

La Bruyère, though a shrewd observer, has the daring of an innovator,

but always remains very guarded in his language. When now and then

his feelings get the better of him, he expresses his opinions like a

man, and attacks the vices of his age with a boldness which none of

his contemporaries has surpassed. Nearly the whole of his chapter “Of

the Gifts of Fortune” is an attack on the financiers; in the chapter

“Of the Great,” he certainly does not flatter the courtiers, whilst he

himself never pretends to be anything else but “a plebeian,”[10] and

almost always sides with his own class. If he flatters the king, it

is because he thinks him necessary to the state, and, perhaps, also

because he wishes to have a defender against the many enemies his book

had raised up. He was, moreover, very cautious, and in the endless

alterations he made in the various editions of the “Characters,”[11]

published during his lifetime, he but seldom envenomed the barb he

had shot, or boasted of it if he did so.[12] Though he touched on all

the passions of men, he did not set one class against another, a task

which was left to the so-called philosophical authors of the eighteenth

century.

The style of La Bruyère has been praised by competent judges for its

conciseness and picturesqueness; he always employs the right word in

the right place, is correct in his expressions, varied in his thoughts,

highly imaginative, and, therefore, maybe called a perfect literary

artist.[13] A few words and expressions, which I have noticed, have

become antiquated, or have changed their meaning, but the “Characters”

will still, I think, be read for many ages, be found very entertaining,

and, what cannot be said of the works of every classical French author,

will be better liked the more they are read. If sometimes one of the

characters is portrayed with too many details, it is because it is

taken not from one man, but composed of a series of shrewd and clever

observations made on different personages; and hence our author calls

them “Characters,” and not “portraits.”

Since La Bruyèreʼs death many editions of the “Characters” have

appeared; I have collated and compared the best of them, amongst

which those edited by Mons. G. Servois and Mons. A. Chassang have

laid me under great obligations. I am indebted to these two editions

for many of the notes, and for a few to those of MM. Destailleur and

Hémardinquer.

Several imitations of the “Characters” have also been published,

amongst others a _Petit la Bruyère, ou Caractères et mœurs des

enfants de ce siècle_, and a _Le la Bruyère des domestiques, précédé

de considérations sur Pétat de domesticité en général_, both by that

voluminous author, Madame de Genlis, a _Le la Bruyère des jeunes

gens_, and a similar work for _jeunes demoiselles_, which attract the

attention by the oddity of their titles.

La Bruyèreʼs “Characters” have also been translated several times into

English.

1. A translation seems to have been published in London as early as

1698.[14]

2. The “Characters of Theophrastus,” translated from M. Bruyèreʼs

French version by Eustace Budgell, Esq., London, 1699; and another

edition of the same work published in 1702.[15]

3. The “Characters of Theophrastus,” together with the Characters of

the Age, by La Bruyère, with a prefatory discourse and key: London,

1700.[16]

4. The “Characters, or the Manners of the Age,” by Monsieur de la

Bruyère of the French Academy, made English by several hands, with

the “Characters of Theophrastus,” translated from the Greek, and a

prefatory discourse to them, by Monsieur de la Bruyère, the third

edition, corrected throughout, and enlarged, with the Key inserted in

the margin: London, Leach, 1702.

5. The Works of Monsieur de la Bruyère, containing: I. The Moral

Characters of Theophrastus; II. The Characters, or the Manners of the

Present Age; III. M. Bruyèreʼs Speech upon his Admission into the

French Academy; IV. An Account of the Life and Writings of M. Bruyère,

by Monsieur Coste, with an original Chapter of the Manner of Living

with Great Men, written after the method of M. Bruyère, by N. Rowe,

Esq. This translation seems to have been very successful, for the sixth

edition, the only one I have seen, was published in two volumes in

1713: London, E. Curll.

6. The Moral Characters of Theophrastus, by H. Gaily: London, 1725.

7. The Works of M. de la Bruyère, in two volumes, to which is added the

Characters of Theophrastus, also The Manner of Living with Great Men,

written after the manner of Bruyère, by N. Rowe, Esq.: London, J. Bell,

1776.

I have consulted the edition mentioned in No. 2, and printed in 1702,

in which the attacks of La Bruyère on William III. in the Chapter

“Of Opinions,” §§ 118 and 119, are omitted; the sixth edition of the

“Characters,” given in No. 5, and published in 1713; and the edition

referred to in No. 7.

In the “Advertisement concerning the new edition” of 1713, printed with

the “Characters,” it is stated, “We procured the last English edition

to be compared verbatim with the last Paris edition (which is the

ninth), and ... all the Supplemental Reflections ... we got translated,

and added to this present edition; and that it might be as complete

as possible, we have not scrupled to translate even those parts which

at first sight may perhaps disoblige some who have a just veneration

for the memory of our Glorious Deliverer, the late King William.” La

Bruyèreʼs speech upon his admission into the French Academy was in this

edition “made English by M. Ozell.”

In the edition of 1776, the “parts” reflecting on William III. are

again omitted. It greatly differs from the one of 1713, and is

dedicated to the Right Honourable Henry, Earl of Lincoln, Auditor of

the Exchequer, Knight of the most noble order of the Garter, &c. &c.

Many faults may be found in the old translations, but I have

endeavoured to amend them; and I never scrupled to adopt any

expressions, turn of thought, or even page of any or every translation

of my predecessors, whenever I found I could not improve upon them.

Translations of the “Characters” have appeared in several other

languages; four of these were published in German, the last one

printed in 1872, whilst already the final chapter of La Bruyèreʼs book

“Of Freethinkers” had come out in a German dress in 1739; moreover,

La Bruyèreʼs book has been translated twice into Italian, once into

Spanish, and once into Russian.

The imitations of the “Characters” into English are—

1. “The English Theophrastus, or the Manners of the Age, being the

modern Characters of the Court, the Town, and the City,” by Boyer:

London, 1692 and 1702.

2. The Chapter “Of the Manner of Living with Great Men,” written after

the method of M. Bruyère, by N. Rowe, mentioned already.

3. Imitations of the Characters of Theophrastus: London, 1774.

I imagine that the author of the “English Theophrastus” was M. Abel

Boyer, the compiler of the well-known dictionary, born at Castres in

1664, who fled to England at the revocation of the Edict of Nantes,

and died at Chelsea in 1729.

The direct influence of La Bruyèreʼs writings on English literature

is not easily to be traced. Swift may, possibly, have studied him,

though he never mentions him,[17] and so may, perhaps, Anthony Cooper,

third earl of Shaftesbury,[18] “who spoke French so fluently, and

with so perfect an accent, that in France he was often mistaken for

a native.”[19] I venture to think that Addison and Steele were also

acquainted with our Frenchman;[20] but the English author who in

expression, turn of thought, art of delineating character, and in his

mixture of seriousness and familiarity, is most like him, is a doctor

of divinity, R. South, Prebendary of Westminster, and Canon of Christ

Church, and yet he wrote before La Bruyère, and therefore cannot have

imitated him.[21]

I am not aware La Bruyère knew English, though his successor at the

French Academy states that he spoke several foreign languages;[22] he

was well acquainted with German, Italian, and I think also Spanish;

nor do I know if any of Dr. Southʼs sermons were published separately

before La Bruyère wrote, and if he, therefore, could have seen them. I

should imagine he never read any of them.

Six portraits, which adorn these volumes, have been specially etched

for this edition by M. B. Damman, whilst the portrait of La Bruyère,

and the vignettes at the head of each chapter, have been drawn and

etched by M. V. Foulquier.

In the biographical memoir of La Bruyère, I have only stated what is

known of him, which is very little.

HENRI VAN LAUN.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

A BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR

OF

JEAN DE LA BRUYÈRE.

For a long time it has generally been taken for granted that our author

first saw the light at Dourdan, a small town in the department of

Seine-et-Oise, but it has only lately been discovered that he was born

in Paris in the month of August 1645. His father, Louis de la Bruyère,

was _contrôleur des rentes de la ville_, a sort of town-tax collector,

whilst his mother, Elizabeth Hamonin, belonged to a respectable family

of Parisian burgesses. His grandfather and great-grandfather on the

fatherʼs side, declared partisans of the Ligue, were both exiled from

France when Henri IV. came to the throne. Perhaps, therefore, the

feelings our author entertained for the people may be explained by

atavism. A younger brother of his father and our authorʼs godfather, a

very wealthy man, and most likely a money-lender, as well as interested

in the farming of certain taxes, seems to have produced no favourable

impression on his god-son, for the latter always attacks the farmers of

the revenue.

Jean de la Bruyère was educated at the Oratorians in Paris, and two

years before his father died, in the month of June 1664, took his

degree of licentiate at law at the University of Orléans. He became

an advocate, but in 1673, when twenty-eight years old, he forsook

the bar, and bought for about 24,000 _livres_ the post of _trésorier

des finances_ in the Caen district, in Normandy. There were fifteen

_trésoriers_ at Caen, of whom only some were obliged to reside there,

but all became ennobled by virtue of their office, and received as

non-residents a yearly salary of about 2500 _livres_. La Bruyère

had bought this treasurership of a certain Joseph Metezeau, said to

have been a relative by marriage of Bossuet, but this is not at all

proved; and in 1686, about two years before he was going to publish

the “Characters,” and when already he had been for some time one of

the teachers of the Duke de Bourbon, a grandson of the Prince Louis de

Condé, he sold again his post for 18,000 _livres_ to Charles-François

de la Bonde, Seigneur dʼIberville.

On the recommendation of Bossuet, La Bruyère, in 1684, had been

appointed teacher of history to the Duke de Bourbon; and remained

with the Condés for twelve years, until the day of his death. He

instructed his pupil not only in history, but also in geography,

literature, and philosophy; yet his lessons appear to have produced no

great impression, and moreover, they did not last very long, for the

youthful duke married in 1685 a daughter of Madame de Montespan and

Louis XIV.,[23] and La Bruyère received then the appointment of _écuyer

gentilhomme_ to Henri Jules, Duke of Bourbon, the father of his former

pupil.

Why La Bruyère ever accepted the post of teacher, and afterwards of

“gentleman in waiting,” cannot be elucidated at the present time; he

may have suffered reverses of fortune, which compelled him to gain a

livelihood, but in any case he made the best use of his residence with

a noble family, by studying the personages whose vices and ridicules

he so admirably portrayed. Living with the Condés at their hotel at

Paris, at their country seats at Chantilly and Saint Maur, or when

they were visiting the Court, at Versailles, Marly, Fontainebleau, or

Chambord, amidst the noble and high-born of the land, without being

considered one of them, he had the best opportunity of penetrating the

characters of those men who strutted about in gaudy trappings, and

lorded it over the common herd, whilst soliciting offices or dignities;

and for observing that these men were neither superior in feelings nor

intellect to the “common people.”[24]

All his reflections and observations he arranged under a certain number

of headings, called the whole of them “Characters,” and read some

passages to a few of his friends, who seem not to have been greatly

smitten by them. But this did not discourage La Bruyère; he translated

into French the “Characters” of Theophrastus, a Greek philosopher of

the peripatetic school, the successor of Aristotle as the head of the

Academy, who seems to have lived until about the year 285 B.C., wrote

a prefatory discourse to them, in which he displayed more satirical

power than in any of his other works,[25] and resolved to publish his

translation, and to print as a kind of appendix his own “Characters”

at the end of it. One day,[26] whilst La Bruyère was sitting in the

shop of a certain bookseller, named Michallet, which he visited almost

daily, and was playing with the shop-keeperʼs little daughter, he

took the manuscript of the “Characters” out of his pocket, and told

Michallet he might print it if he liked, and keep the profits, if there

were any, as a dowry for his child. The bookseller hesitated for some

time, but finally published it, and the sale of it was so large that he

brought out one edition after another as quick as he could.

It is certain that the publication of the “Characters” in 1688 made its

author many enemies, but he calmly pursued the even tenor of his way,

and increased the number of his paragraphs during the remaining portion

of his life.[27]

In 1691 he endeavoured to be elected a member of the French Academy,

and to become the successor of Benserade,[28] but failed, thanks to

the number of his enemies, amongst whom probably Fontenelle and Thomas

Corneille, the nephew and brother of the great poet Pierre Corneille,

were the most active; yet in 1693 he was elected without having made

the usual visits to the Academicians to solicit their votes,[29]

though his friends, Racine, Boileau, the secretary of state, de

Pontchartrain,[30] and others, used all their influence to ensure his

nomination.

The speech he delivered at his reception seems not to have given

general satisfaction, for La Bruyère defended the partisans of the

classical and attacked those of the modern school, proclaimed Boileau

a judicious critic, and hardly admitted Corneille to be the equal of

Racine. This speech, preceded by a very satirical preface,[31] in which

he ridiculed his enemies under the name of “Theobalds,” was published

with the eighth edition of the “Characters.”

But if he had bitter enemies he had also warm friends, amongst whom,

besides the illustrious men I have already named, must be reckoned:

Phélypeaux, the son of de Pontchartrain; the Marquis de Termes;

Bossuet, and his nephew the Abbé Bossuet; Fénelon; de Malesieu;

Renaudot; de Valincourt; Regnier-Desmarais; La Loubère, and Bouhier,

nearly all present or future members of the French Academy; the poet

Santeuil, and the historian Caton de Court.

We hardly know anything for certain of the character of La Bruyère

except by the glimpses we get now and then in his book, or by what is

told of him in some of the letters and writings of his friends and

enemies. He was unmarried, and seems to have been a man of a modest

disposition, fond of his books and his friends, polite in his manners,

and willing to oblige. I imagine he must have felt it sometimes hard

to be dependent on so fantastic, suspicious, half-demented a man as

was the father of his former pupil, above all, after the death of the

great Condé, which took place on the 8th of December 1686,[32] and also

to have disliked being made now and then the butt of courtiers[33] his

mental inferiors, but aristocratic superiors; hence he was often silent

for fear of being laughed at.[34]

He was scarcely fifty when, according to some reports, he became

suddenly deaf; a few days afterwards, during the night of the 10th of

May 1696, he died of an attack of apoplexy at the hotel of the Condés

at Versailles.

In 1699 were published some _Dialogues sur le Quiétisme_, attributed to

La Bruyère; but as the editor, the Abbé du Pin, admitted he had partly

altered them, as well as added some of his own, it is difficult to

judge what was the original share of our author in their composition.

Only twenty-one authenticated letters of La Bruyère are in existence,

of which seventeen are in the collection of the Duke dʼAumale, at

Twickenham.

[Illustration]

PREFACE.

“Admonere voluimus, non mordere; prodesse, non lædere; consulere

moribus hominum, non officere.”[35]

The subject-matter of this work being borrowed from the public, I now

give back to it what it lent me; it is but right that having finished

the whole work throughout with the utmost regard to truth I am capable

of, and which it deserves from me, I should make restitution of it.

The world may view at leisure its picture drawn from life, and may

correct any of the faults I have touched upon, if conscious of them.

This is the only goal a man ought to propose to himself in writing,

though he must not in the least expect to be successful; however, as

long as men are not disgusted with vice we should also never tire of

admonishing them; they would perhaps grow worse were it not for censure

or reproof, and hence the need of preaching and writing. Neither

orators nor authors can conceal the joy they feel on being applauded,

whereas they ought to blush if they aim at nothing more than praise

in their speeches or writings; besides, the surest and least doubtful

approbation is a change and regeneration in the morals of their readers

and hearers. We should neither write nor speak but to instruct; yet,

if we happen to please, we should not be sorry for it, since by those

means we render those instructive truths more palatable and acceptable.

When, therefore, any thoughts or reflections have slipped into a book

which are neither so spirited, well written, nor vivid as others,

though they seem to have been inserted for the sake of variety, as a

relaxation to the mind, or to draw its attention to what is to follow,

the reader should reject and the author delete them, unless they are

attractive, familiar, instructive, and adapted to the capacity of

ordinary people, whom we must by no means neglect.

This is one way of settling things; there is another which my own

interest trusts may be adopted; and that is, not to lose sight of my

title, and always to bear in mind, as often as this book is read,

that I describe “The Characters or Manners of the Age;” for though

I frequently take them from the court of France and from men of my

own nation, yet they cannot be confined to any one court or country,

without greatly impairing the compass and utility of my book, and

departing from the design of the work, which is to paint mankind in

general, as well as from the reasons for the order of my chapters,

and even from a certain gradual connection between the reflections

in each of those chapters. After this so necessary precaution, the

consequences of which are obvious enough, I think I may protest against

all resentment, complaint, malicious interpretation, false application

and censure, against insipid railers and cantankerous readers. People

ought to know how to read and then hold their tongues, unless able to

relate what they have read, and neither more nor less than what they

have read, which they sometimes can do; but this is not sufficient—they

must also be willing to do it. Without these conditions, which a

careful and scrupulous author has a right to demand from some people,

as the sole reward of his labour, I question whether he ought to

continue writing, if at least he prefers his private satisfaction to

the public good and to his zeal for truth. I confess, moreover, that

since the year MDCLXXXX, and before publishing the fifth edition, I was

divided between an impatience to cast my book into a fuller and better

shape by adding new Characters, and a fear lest some people should say:

“Will there never be an end to these Characters, and shall we never

see anything else from this author?” On the one hand several persons

of sound common-sense told me: “The subject-matter is solid, useful,

pleasant, inexhaustible; may you live for a long time, and treat it

without interruption as long as you live! what can you do better? The

follies of mankind will ensure you a volume every year.” Others,

again, with a good deal of reason, made me dread the fickleness of the

multitude and the instability of the public, with whom, however, I have

good cause to be satisfied; they were always suggesting to me that for

the last thirty years, few persons read except for the pleasure of

reading, and not to improve themselves, and that, to amuse mankind,

fresh chapters and a new title were needed; that this sluggishness had

filled the shops and crowded the world with dull and tedious books,

written in a bad style and without any intelligence, order, or the

least correctness, against all morality or decency, written in a hurry,

and read in the same way, and then only for the sake of novelty; and

that if I could do nothing else but enlarge a sensible book, it would

be much better for me to take a rest. I adopted something of both those

advices, though they were at variance with one another, and observed an

impartiality which clashed with neither. I did not hesitate to add some

fresh remarks to those which already had doubled the bulk of the first

edition of my book;[36] but, in order not to oblige the public to read

again what had been printed before, to get at new material, and to let

them immediately find out what they only desired to read, I took care

to distinguish those second additions by a peculiar mark ((¶));[37]

I also thought it would not be useless to distinguish the first

augmentations by another and simpler mark (¶), to show the progress

of my “Characters,” as well as to guide the reader in the choice he

might be willing to make. And lest he be afraid I should never have

done with those additions, I added to all this care a sincere promise

to venture on nothing more of the kind. If any one accuses me of

breaking my word, because I inserted in the three last editions[38] a

goodly number of new remarks, he may perceive at least that by adding

new ones to old, and by completely suppressing those differences

pointed out in the margin, I did not so much endeavour to entertain

the world with novelties, as perhaps to leave to posterity a book of

morals more complete, more finished, and more regular. To conclude, I

did not wish to write any maxims, for they are like moral laws, and I

acknowledge that I possess neither sufficient authority nor genius for

a legislator. I also know I have transgressed the ordinary standard of

maxims, which, like oracles, should be short and concise.[39] Some of

my remarks are so, others are more diffuse; we do not always think of

things in the same way, and we describe them in as different a manner

by a sentence, an argument, a metaphor, or some other figure; by a

parallel or a simple comparison; by a story, by a single feature, by a

description, or a picture; which is the cause of the length or brevity

of my reflections. Finally, those who write maxims would be thought

infallible; I, on the contrary, allow any one to say that my remarks

are not always correct, provided he himself will make better ones.

[Illustration]

I.

OF WORKS OF THE MIND.

(1.) After above seven thousand years,[40] during which there have been

men who have thought we come too late to say anything that has not been

said already, the finest and most beautiful ideas on morals and manners

have been swept away before our times, and nothing is left for us but

to glean after the ancients and the ablest[41] amongst the moderns.

(2.) We should only endeavour to think and speak correctly ourselves,

without wishing to bring others over to our taste and opinions;[42]

this would be too great an undertaking.

(3.) To make a book is as much a trade as to make a clock; something

more than intelligence is required to become an author. A certain

magistrate was going to be raised by his merit to the highest legal

dignity; he was a man of subtle mind and of experience, but must needs

print a treatise of morality, which was quickly bought up on account of

its absurdity.[43]

(4.) It is not so easy to obtain a reputation by a perfect work as

to enhance the value of an indifferent one by a reputation already

acquired.

(5.) A satirical work or a book of anecdotes[44] handed about privately

in manuscript from one to another, passes for a masterpiece, even when

it is but middling; the printing ruins its reputation.

(6.) Take away from most of our works on morality the “Advertisement

to the reader,” the “Epistle dedicatory,” the “Preface,” the “Table of

contents,” and the “Permission to print,” and there will scarcely be

pages enough left to deserve the name of a book.

(7.) In certain things mediocrity is unbearable, as in poetry, music,

painting, and eloquence. How we are tortured when we hear a dull

soliloquy delivered in a pompous tone, or indifferent verses read with

all the emphasis of a wretched poet!

(8.) Some poets in their tragedies employ a goodly number of big

sounding verses, which seem strong, elevated, and filled with lofty

sentiments.[45] They are listened to anxiously, with eyes raised

and gaping mouths, and are thought to please the public; and where

they are understood the least, are admired the most; people have no

time to breathe, they have hardly time to exclaim and to applaud.

Formerly, when I was quite young, I imagined those passages were clear

and intelligible to the actors, the pit, and the galleries; that the

authors themselves understood them, and that I must have been very dull

not to understand what it was all about. But now I am undeceived.

(9.) Up to the present time there exists hardly any literary

masterpiece which is the joint labour of several men.[46] Homer wrote

the Iliad,[47] Virgil the Æneid, Livy the Decades, and the Roman

orator[48] his Orations.

(10.) There is in art an acme of perfection, as there is in Nature

one of goodness and completeness. Any one who feels this and loves

art possesses a perfect taste; but he who is not sensible of it, and

loves what is below or above that point, is wanting in taste. Thus

there exists a good and a bad taste, and we are right in discussing the

difference between them.

(11.) Men have generally more vivacity than judgment; or, to speak more

accurately, few men exist whose intelligence is combined with a correct

taste and a judicious criticism.

(12.) The lives of heroes have enriched history, and history has

adorned the actions of heroes; and thus I cannot say whether the

historians are more indebted to those who provided them with such noble

materials, or those great men to their historians.

(13.) A heap of epithets is but a sorry commendation. Actions alone,

and the manner of relating them, speak a manʼs praise.

(14.) The whole genius of an author consists in giving accurate

definitions and in painting well. Only Moses,[49] Homer, Plato, Virgil,

Horace, excel all other writers in their expressions and their imagery:

to express truth is to write naturally, forcibly, and delicately.

(15.) People have been obliged to do with style what they have done

with architecture; they wholly abandoned the Gothic style, which the

barbarians introduced in their palaces and temples,[50] and brought

back the Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian orders. That which was only seen

amongst the ruins of ancient Rome and time-honoured Greece has become

modernised, and now shines forth in our porticoes and colonnades. So,

in writing, we can never arrive at perfection, and, if possible,

surpass the ancients, but by imitating them.

How many centuries have elapsed before men were able to come back to

the taste of the ancients in arts and sciences, and, finally, took up

again a simple and natural style.

A man[51] feeds on the ancients and intelligent moderns; he squeezes

and drains them as much as possible; he stuffs his works with them;

and when at last he becomes an author and thinks he can walk alone, he

lifts up his voice against them, and ill-treats them, like those lusty

children, grown strong through the healthy milk on which they have been

fed, and who beat their nurses.

An author of modern times usually proves the ancients inferior to us in

two ways: by reason and examples. The reason is his own opinion, and

the examples are his own writings.[52]

He confesses that the ancients, though they are unequal and incorrect,

have a great many beautiful passages; he quotes them, and they are so

fine, that his criticism is read only for their sake.

Some able men declare in favour of the ancients against the moderns;

but we doubt them, as they seem to be judges in their own cause, for

their works are so exactly written after the model of antiquity, that

we cannot accept their authority.[53]

(16.) We ought to like to read our works to those who know how to

correct and appreciate them.

He who will not listen to any advice, nor be corrected in his writings,

is a rank pedant.

An author ought to receive with the same moderation all praises and all

criticisms on his productions.

(17.) Amongst all the various expressions which can render our

thoughts, there is but one which is correct. We are not always so

fortunate as to hit upon it in writing or speaking, but, nevertheless,

such a one undoubtedly exists, and all others are weak, and do not

satisfy a man of culture who wishes to make himself understood.

A good author, who writes carefully, often finds that the expression he

has been looking for some time, and which he did not know, proves, when

found at last, to be the most simple, the most natural, and the one

which was most likely to present itself to him spontaneously at first.

Fanciful authors often touch up their works. As their temper is not

always the same, and as it varies on every occasion, they soon grow

indifferent about those very expressions and terms they liked so much

at first.

(18.) The same common-sense which makes an author write good things,

makes him dread they are not good enough to deserve reading.

A shallow mind thinks his writings divine; a man of sense imagines he

writes tolerably well.

(19.) Aristus says, “I was prevailed upon to read my works to

Zoilus,[54] and I did so. At first he liked them, before he had leisure

to disapprove of them; he commended them coldly in my presence, and

since then, has not said one word in their favour to any one. I excuse

him, and desire no more from any author; I even pity him for listening

to so many fine things which were not his own.”

Those men who through their rank are exempt from an authorʼs jealousy,

have either other passions or necessities to distract them, and to

make them indifferent towards other menʼs conceptions. Almost no one,

whether through disposition, inclination, or fortune, is willing to

relish the delight that a perfect piece of work can give.

(20.) The pleasure of criticism takes away from us the pleasure of

being deeply moved by very fine things.

(21.) Many people perceive the merit of a manuscript which is read to

them, but will not declare themselves in its favour until they see what

success it has in the world when printed, or what intelligent men will

say about it. They do not like to risk their opinion, and they want to

be carried away by the crowd, and dragged along by the multitude. Then

they say that they were amongst the first who approved of that work,

and the general public shares their opinion.[55]

Such men lose the best opportunities of convincing us that they are

intelligent, clever, and first-rate critics, and can really discover

what is good and what is better. A fine work falls into their hands;

it is an authorʼs first book, before he has got any great name; there

is nothing to prepossess any one in his favour, and by applauding his

writings one does not court or flatter the great. Zelotes,[56] you are

not required to cry out: “This is a masterpiece; human intelligence

never went farther; the human speech cannot soar higher; henceforward

we will judge of no oneʼs taste but by what he thinks of this book.”

Such exaggerated and offensive expressions are only employed by

postulants for pensions or benefices, and are even injurious to

what is really commendable and what one wishes to praise. Why not

merely say—“Thatʼs a good book?” It is true you say it when the whole

of France has approved of it, and foreigners as well as your own

countrymen, when it is printed all over Europe, and has been translated

into several languages, but then it is too late.

(22.) Some people, after having read a book, quote certain passages

which they do not thoroughly understand, and moreover completely change

their character by what they put in of their own. Those passages, so

mutilated and disfigured that they are nothing else but their own

expressions and thoughts, they expose to censure, maintain them to be

bad, and the world agrees with them; but the passage such critics think

they quote, and in reality do not, is not a bit the worse for it.[57]

(23.) “What is your opinion about Hermodorusʼ book?”—“That it is

wretchedly written,” replies Anthymus.—“Wretchedly written! what do

you mean, sir?”—“Just what I say,” he continues; “it is not a book,

at least it does not deserve to be talked about”—“Have you read

it?”—“No,” replies Anthymus. Why does he not add that Fulvia and

Melania have condemned it without reading, and that he is a friend of

those two ladies?

(24.) Arsène,[58] from the height of his own wisdom, contemplates men,

and from the eminence he beholds them seems frightened as it were at

their littleness. Commended, extolled, and raised to the skies by

certain persons who have reciprocally promised to admire one another,

he fancies, though he has some merit, that he has as much as any man

can have, which he never will; his mind being occupied and filled with

sublime ideas, he scarcely finds time to pronounce certain oracles;

raised by his character above human judgments, he leaves to vulgar

souls the merit of leading a regular and uniform life, being answerable

for his variations to none but to a circle of friends who worship them.

They alone know how to judge, to think, to write, and they only ought

to write; there is no literary work, though ever so well received

by the world and universally liked by men of culture, which he does

approve of, nay, which he would condescend to read; he is incapable of

being corrected by this picture, which will not even be read by him.

(25.) Theocrines[59] knows a good many useless things; he is singular

in his sentiments, and less profound than methodical; he only exercises

his memory, is absent-minded, scornful, and seems continually laughing

to himself at those whom he thinks his inferiors. By chance I one day

read him something of mine: he heard it out, and then spoke about some

of his own writings. “But what said he of yours?” youʼll ask me. “I

have told you already; he spoke to me only of his own.”

(26.) The most accomplished literary work would be reduced to nothing

by carping criticism, if the author would listen to all critics and

allow every one to erase the passage which pleases him the least.

(27.) Experience tells us, that if there are ten persons who would

strike a thought or an expression out of a book, we could easily

find a like number who would insist upon its being put back again.

The latter will exclaim: “Why should such a thought be suppressed?

it is new, fine, and wonderfully well expressed.” The former, on the

contrary, will maintain, “that they would have omitted such an idea,

or have expressed it in another way.” “In your work,” say the first,

“there is a very happy phrase which depicts most naturally what you

meant to say.” The second maintain “that a certain word is venturesome,

and moreover does not give the precise meaning you perhaps desired to

give.” It is about the same thought and the same word those people

argue; and yet they are all critics, or pass for such. What then can an

author do but venture, in such a perplexity, to follow the advice of

those who approve of the passage.

(28.) A serious-minded author is not obliged to trouble his head about

all the foolish sayings, the obscene remarks, and bad words that are

uttered, or about the stupid constructions which some men put on

certain passages of his writings; much less ought he to suppress them.

He is convinced that let a man be never so careful in his writings, the

insipid jokes of wretched buffoons are an unavoidable evil, since they

often only turn the best things into ridicule.

(29.) If certain men of quick and resolute mind are to be believed,

words would even be superfluous to express feelings; signs would be

sufficient to address them, or we could make ourselves be understood

without speaking. However careful you may be to write closely and

concisely, and whatever reputation you may have as such, they will

think you diffuse. You must allow them to supply everything and write

for them alone. They understand a whole phrase by reading the first

word, and an entire chapter by a single phrase. It is sufficient for

them to have heard only a bit of your work, they know it all and

understand the whole. A great many riddles would be amusing reading to

them; they regret that the wretched style which delights them becomes

rare, and that so few authors employ it. Comparisons of a river flowing

rapidly, though calmly and uniformly, or of a conflagration which,

fanned by the winds, spreads afar in a forest, where it devours oaks

and pine-trees, gives to them not the smallest idea of eloquence. Show

them some fireworks[60] to astonish them, or a flash of lightning to

dazzle them, and they will dispense with anything fine or beautiful.

The "Characters" of Jean de La Bruyère · 第 1 / 37 段