Chapter 2

There is no Kind of polite Writing that seems to require a deeper Knowledge, a livelier Imagination, and a happier Turn of Expression than the Characteristic. Human Nature, in its various Forms and Affections, is the Subject; and he who wou’d attempt a Work of this Kind, with some assurance of Success, must not only study other Men; he has a more difficult Task to perform; he must study himself. The deep and dark Recesses of the Heart must be penetrated, to discover how Nature is disguis’d into Art, and how Art puts on the Appearance of Nature.--This Knowledge is great; ’tis the Perfection of Moral Philosophy; ’tis an inestimable Treasure: But yet if it shou’d fall into the Hands of one, who wants proper Abilities to communicate his Knowledge to the World, it wou’d be of no Service but to the Owner: It wou’d make him, indeed, an able Philosopher, but not an able Writer of Characters.

The Mind has its peculiar Features as well as the Body; and these must be represented in their genuine and native Colours, that so the Picture may strike, and every Reader, who is concern’d in the Work, may presently discover himself; and those, who are unconcern’d may, nevertheless, immediately perceive a just Correspondence between that Piece and Nature.

Every Action has its proper Thought, and every Thought its proper Expression. And these Correspondences are not imaginary, but have a real Foundation in Nature: For when any one of these is wanting, the whole is lame and defective, but when they all meet and conspire together, the Character is then genuine and compleat, the Thing or Person design’d is drawn to the Life, and the Reader is left uncertain, whether the Character, that lies before him, is an Effect of Art, or a real Appearance of Nature.--A Master-Piece of this Kind, requires the Hand of one who is a Critic in Men and Manners, a Critic in Thoughts, and a Critic in Language.

A superficial Knowledge of human Nature, will never qualify a Man to be a Writer of Characters. He must be a Master of the Science; and be able to lead a Reader, knowingly, thro’ that Labyrinth of the Passions, which fill the Heart of Man, and make him either a noble or a despicable Creature. For tho’ some, who have never attempted any thing of this kind, may think it an easy Matter to write two or three Pages of Morality with Spirit, to describe an Action, a Passion, a Manner; yet had they made the Experiment, the Event wou’d not have answer’d their Expectation, and they wou’d have found, that this easy Work was more difficult than they, at first, imagin’d.

The Features of every single Passion must be known; the Relation which that Passion bears to another, must be discover’d; and the Harmony and Discord which result from them must be felt. Many have studied these Things, but few have thoroughly understood them. The Labour is vast; ’tis almost infinite; and yet without a Knowledge of these Things, ’twill be impossible ever to draw a Character so to the Life, as that it shall hit one Person, and him only.

We have all of us different Souls, and our Souls have Affections as different from one another, as our outward Faces are in their Lineaments. Each Man contains a little World within himself, and every Heart is a new World. We cannot therefore attain to a perfect Knowledge of human Nature, by studying others or our selves alone, but by studying both. ’Tis this Knowledge which sets the Philosopher above the Peasant, and gives the Preference to one Author above another. This Knowledge has a Force, something like to that of Magic Charms: by the help of it one, who is Master of the Science, can turn Men inside outwards, and expose them to the Eyes of the World, as they really are, and not as they wou’d fain appear to be. By the help of this Knowledge an intelligent Writer can form to his Reader the most agreeable, most instructive Entertainment that can possibly be desir’d; transport him, with the greatest Ease imaginable, from the Solitude of his Chamber to Places of the greatest Concourse; there to see and learn the Virtues of Men; there to see and shun their Vices, without any danger of being corrupted by the Contagion of a real Commerce.

How absolutely necessary a thorough Insight into the Heart and Passions of Man is to a Writer of Characters, will be more evident by descending to some Particulars, and pointing out some of those nice Circumstances, which a Writer of Characters must accurately observe, and by which his Capacity in this Way may be easily judg’d of.

It must be observ’d then, that the Heart of Man is frequently actuated by more Passions than one: And as the same Object does, by its different Position, afford to the Spectator different Representations, so does the same Affection of the Mind, by exerting it self after a different manner, lay a real Foundation for so many distinct Characters. The under Passions may, by their various Operations, cause some Diversity in the Colour and Complexion of the Whole, but ’tis the Master-Passion which must determine the Character.

Since therefore the under Parts of a Character are not essential, they may or may not be reciprocal. A covetous Man may be impudent, or he may have some share of Modesty left: On the other Hand, an impudent Man may be generous, or his Character may be stain’d by Avarice. And therefore to make the Features of one Virtue or Vice enter, as under Parts, into the Character of another Virtue or Vice, is so far from being a Transgression of the Nature of Things, that, on the contrary, all the Beauty of _Characteristic-Writing_, and all the Beauty which arises from the Variety of an agreeable Mixture, entirely depends on _this_. The main Difficulty consists in making the Master-Passion operate so conspicuously throughout the Whole, as that the Reader may, in every step of the Performance, immediately discover it.

The Truth of it is, that there are some Affections of the Mind, which not only constitute of themselves a distinct Virtue or Vice, but are also the Foundation of many others. Avarice is of this extensive Nature; it constitutes, of it self, a distinct Character, and it enters into the Competition of several others. St. _Paul_ says, that _the love of money is the root of all evil_; which Maxim the spurious _Phocylides_ has express’d in the following Verse,

Ἡ φιλοχρημοσύνη μήτηρ κακότητος ἁπάσης.

This Doctrine may be made yet more sensible by applying it to the Practice of _Theophrastus_, whose Conduct, in this Respect, ought to be look’d upon as an authentick Pattern. Rusticity, Avarice and Impudence, are in their own Nature distinct Vices, but yet there is a very near Relation between them, which has a real Foundation in the Actions of Men. And, as on the one Hand, _Theophrastus_ has drawn distinct Characters of these Vices, so, on the other Hand, he has made the peculiar Features of one or more of these Vices enter into the Characters of the other. This is Matter of Fact; and if the Reader will be at the Pains to compare the _6th_, _9th_, and _11th_, Chapters, as he will be perswaded of the Truth of what is here asserted, so will he be convinc’d, at the same Time, that _Theophrastus_ has not confounded by this Mixture the real Nature of Things, or transgress’d thereby, in any wise, the Rules of _Characteristic-Justice_.

Again; Loquacity and an ill-tim’d Behaviour are two very different Vices in common Conversation; but yet _Theophrastus_ has concluded his Character of Loquacity, with the same Stroke which begins that of an ill-tim’d Behaviour; because tho’ these Vices are of a different Nature, yet do they not exclude each other; and the Actions of Men manifestly prove, that they are frequently to be found in the same Subject.

The nice Reader therefore, instead of being offended to find the peculiar Features of one Vice interspers’d in the Character of another, ought, on the contrary, to admire the Judgment and Accuracy of _Theophrastus_ in this Respect: For this Mixture does not proceed from Inaccuracy, but is founded in Nature: And ’tis the Work of a sagacious Head, as well to discover the near Relations that are between different things, as to separate those Things, which by Nature are nearly related, but yet are really distinct.

The Beauty of every Kind of Writing arises from the Conformity which it bears to Nature; and therefore the Excellency of _Characteristic-Writings_ must consist in exact Representations of human Nature.--This Harmony between Art and Nature may be call’d Justice: And tho’ the Boundaries of it may be more extensive in those Works, in which a greater Range is allow’d to the Imagination, yet still, Invention and Fiction must be admitted in _Characteristic- Writings_, when the Characters design’d are of a general Nature; for then the Writer does not copy from an individual Original, and all the Extravagances of Nature are natural, when they are well represented.

It requires, I own, a great deal of Penetration to hit exactly this Point of Reality: But then it must be confess’d, that as the great difficulty of _Characteristic-Writing_ consists in this, so does the main Beauty and Force of it too: For Objects are apt to affect and move us according to their Presence or Absence; and a Character will naturally strike us more forcibly, the more the Images, which it consists of, are lively and natural; because the Object is then most present to our Mind.

Since every Feature must be drawn exactly to the Life, great Care must be taken, that the Strokes be not too faint, nor yet too strong: For Characteristic-Justice is to be observ’d as strictly by the Writers of this Kind, as Poetic-Justice is to be by Poets. That Medium must be copied, which Nature it self has mark’d out; whatever falls short of it is poor and insipid, whatever is above it is Rant and Extravagance.

[E] _Quodcunque ostendis mihi sic, incredulus odi._

And whatsoever contradicts my Sense, I hate to see, and never can believe. Ld. _Roscommon_.

[E: Horat. Art. Poet. _v._ 188.]

A consummate Delicacy of Sentiments, and an exquisite Judgment are the very Soul of _Characteristic-Writing_; for every particular Stroke, as well as the whole Character, has a proper Degree of Perfection. To attain this Point, and to bring the several Parts, as well as the Whole, exactly to this Pitch, is the Work of a sagacious Head, and of a perfect Judgment.--An Author, in this Kind, must not dwell too long upon one Idea: As soon as the masterly Stroke is given, he must immediately pass on to another Idea. This will give Life to the Work, and serve to keep up the Spirit of the Writing, and of the Reader too: Forif, after the masterly Stroke is given, the Author shou’d, in a paraphrastical Manner, still insist upon the same Idea, the Work will immediately flag, the Character grow languid, and the Person characteris’d will insensibly vanish from the Eyes of the Reader.

An honest Writer, who has the Profit as well as the Pleasure of his Reader in View, ought always to tell the Truth. But as he is at Liberty to chuse his manner of telling it, so that Method of Instruction ought to be observ’d in _Characteristic-Writings_, which will keep up the good Humour of the Reader, altho’ he is, at the same Time, made sensible of his Errors. And this Artifice ought industriously to be pursu’d, since the proper Management of it is so necessary to the Success of _Characteristic-Writings_. For those who love and admire Truth themselves, must yet be sensible that ’tis generally unwelcome, both to themselves and to others, when the Point of Self-Interest is concern’d. And the Reason of it is, not because Truth is really ugly and deform’d, but because it presents to our View certain Inconsistencies and Errors, which Self-Love will not allow us to condemn. And therefore the great Art and Difficulty, in making Truth pleasant and profitable, is so to expose Error, as not to seem to make any Attacks upon the Province of Self-Love.

[F] _Omne vafer vitium ridenti Flaccus amico Tangit, & admissus circum præcordia ludit, Callidus excusso Populum suspendere naso._

[F: Persius Sat. I. V. 116, &c.]

----With conceal’d Design, Did crafty _Horace_ his low Numbers join: And, with a sly insinuating Grace, Laugh’d at his Friend, and look’d him in the Face: Wou’d raise a Blush, where secret Vice he found; And tickle, while he gently prob’d the Wound. With seeming Innocence the Crowd beguil’d; But made the desp’rate Passes, when he smil’d. Mr. _Dryden_.

This was the Character of one of the greatest _Roman_ Poets; and in this Art, amongst the Moderns, [G]_Benserade_ particularly excell’d, if we may believe his Successor and Panegyrist _Pavillon_.

[G: Dictionaire de _Bayle_. Artic. _Benserade._ Not. L.]

What is the proper Style for _Characteristic-Writings_ is briefly laid down by [H]_Libanius_ in the following Words. Ἐργάση τὴν ἠθοποιίαν χαρακτῆρι σαφεῖ, συντόμῳ, ἀνθηρῷ, ἀπολύτῳ, ἀπηλλαγμένῳ πάσης πλοκῆς τε καὶ σχήματος. “When you describe Manners you must use a plain, concise, florid, easy Style, free from all artificial Turns and Figures.” Every Thing must be even, smooth, easy and unaffected; without any of those Points and Turns, which convey to the Mind nothing but a low and false Wit, in which our Moderns so much abound, and in which they seem to place their greatest Beauties.

[H: Ap. _Is. Casaub._ Proleg. ad Theophrast.]

The primary Standard for Style is the Nature of the Subject: And therefore, as _Characteristic-Writings_ are professed Representations of Nature, an Author in this Way is immediately concern’d to use a simple and natural Style: Nor has he any Reason to fear, that this will any ways prejudice his Performance, and make it appear low, flat and insipid; for in Reality there is nothing more noble than a true Simplicity, and nothing more beautiful than Nature, when it appears in the easy Charms of its own native Dress.

In _Characteristic-Writings_ both the Way of Thinking and the Style must be Laconic: Much must be contained in a little Compass. Brevity of Diction adds new Life to a good Thought: And since every perfect Stroke ought to be a distinct Representation of a particular Feature, Matters shou’d be so order’d, that every perfect Sentence may contain a perfect Thought, and every perfect Thought may represent one Feature.

Many other Particulars might have been observ’d and recommended to those, who wou’d attempt a Performance in this Kind, with some Assurance of Success. The Laws of good Writing, in general, may and ought to be applied to _Characteristic-Writing_, in particular, as far as the Nature of it will bear. But to pursue these Things accurately, wou’d carry me beyond the Bounds which the Title of this Work prescribes to me. To shew the peculiar Nature; to point out the principal Beauties, and to lay down the general Laws of _Characteristic-Writing_, is all that was propos’d. Besides, I shall have Occasion, in the Sequel of this Essay, to make some further Observations relating to the Constitution of _Characteristic-Writings_; which, to prevent Repetitions, I forbear mentioning here; but if the Reader be religious in the Observance of a strict Method, he is at full Liberty to alter the Situation of them, and to refer them to this Section.

SECT. IV.

Mr. _de la Bruyere_ has given us a Translation of the Characters of _Theophrastus_; to which he has annex’d what he calls the Characters or Manners of the present Age. This Work was receiv’d with Applause, and the Author gain’d by it a great Reputation amongst Men of polite Literature. And if to make a great deal of Noise in the World, and to undergo several Editions, were infallible Proofs of the intrinsick Merit of a Book, Mr. _de la Bruyere_’s Performance would, upon both these Accounts, sufficiently recommend itself to our Approbation. --I confess, there are very considerable Beauties in this Piece: but yet if it should be examin’d by those Rules of Characteristic-Writing, which I have already mention’d, and which I take to be essential to Performances in this Kind, I am afraid it would not be able, in every Respect, to stand the Test of an impartial Examination.

I do not intend to enter upon an exact Critique of this Piece; the intended Brevity of this Essay will permit me to take Notice of but some few Particulars.--I have no Design or Desire to derogate from the Reputation of the deceas’d Author; but this I take to be a standing Rule in Critical Writings, as well as in judicious Reading, that we ought not to be so struck with the Beauties of an Author, as to be blind to his Failings; nor yet so prejudiced by his Failings, as to be blind to his Beauties.

The original Design of Characteristic-Writings is to give us real Images of Life. An exact Imitation of Nature is the chief Art which is to be us’d. The Imagination, I own, may be allow’d to work in Pieces of this Kind, provided it keeps within the Degrees of Probability; But Mr. _de la Bruyere_ gives us Characters of Men, who are not to be found in Nature; and, out of a false Affectation of the Wonderful, he carries almost every thing to Excess; represents the Irregularities of Life as downright Madness, and by his false Colours converts Men into Monsters.

[I]_Troilus_ is a very supercilious Man: And ’tis no ways inconsistent with this Character to suppose, that he may entertain a natural Antipathy against an ugly Face, or a bad Voice; but our Author represents him as labourirg under this Distemper to such a Degree of Excess, as, I believe, has never been observ’d in any Man. I do not know by what Name it may be call’d. _Troilus_ conceives an immediate Aversion against a Person that enters the Room where he is; he shuns him, flies from him, and will throw himself out at the Window, rather than suffer himself to be accosted by one, whose Face and Voice he does not like.--Is this Humour, or, rather, are not these the genuine Symptoms of Madness and Phrenzy? And if _Troilus_ does really act after this manner, is he not rather an Object of Pity, than a Subject for Humour and Ridicule?

[I: De la Societè & de la Conversation. Ad init.]

The Character of _Cleanthes_, in the same [K]Chapter, is a Misrepresentation of Nature.--“_Cleanthes_ is a very honest Man; he has chosen a Wife, who is the best and the most reasonable Woman in the World: They, each of them, in their respective Ways, make up all the Pleasure and Agreeableness of the Company they are in: ’Tis impossible to meet with more Probity or Politeness. They part to Morrrow, and the Deed of their Separation is ready drawn up at the Notary’s. There are, certainly, some Kinds of Merit that were never made to be together, and some Virtues that are incompatible.” But those who are endow’d with such good Qualities, as Mr. _de la Bruyere_ ascribes to _Cleanthes_ and his Wife, can never agree to a willful Separation. Nay, ’tis a Contradiction to their Character to suppose that either of ’em is faln into those Circumstances, which only can make a Separation become lawful and just. ’Tis true, some Virtues and Accomplishments, as well as some Vices, may be inconsistent with each other. But to apply this Maxim to the present Case must betray a great Want of Judgment and Knowledge in the Nature of Things: For where can one expect to meet with a more perfect Harmony of Virtues, than in the reciprocal Honesty, Reason and Good-breeding of _Cleanthes_ and his Wife?

[K: Ibid. fere.]

An absent Man often acts out of the Way of common Life, when the Fit of Absence is upon him; but that this Fit should dwell upon a Man, so long as it does upon Mr. _de la Bruyere_’s[L] _Menalcas_ I confess, passes my Belief.--_Menalcas_ rises in the Morning; and from that Time till he goes to Bed again, he never recovers from his Fit of Absence: The Distractions of his Mind admit of no Cessation or Interruption: His whole Life is a continued Series of the greatest Follies. _Menalcas_ is really never _Menalcas_; he has no lucid Intervals; he is always another Man.

[L: C. de l’Homme.]

If we consult the Operations of our Soul, to discover the proper Causes of what is call’d _Absence of Mind_, we shall perceive that the Powers of it are sometimes contracted within themselves by a Multiplicity of Thought: In these Cases the inward Exercise of the Soul makes it unable to attend to any outward Object. But at other Times the Soul wanders from itself; and in these Cases the Soul being conversant about remote Objects, cannot immediately recover itself, so as to reflect duly on those which are present. So that this Absence of the Mind must proceed, either from a Fulness and Intention of Thought, or from a Want of Reflexion. If it proceeds from a Fulness of Thought, I say ’tis impossible for the Mind to keep bent so long, as that of _Menalcas_ does: It must necessarily have some Relaxations. If it proceeds from a Want of Reflexion, it must be confess’d, that he who can live so many Hours without reflecting, must be either wholly stupid, or some Degrees below the Species of Mankind.

But what makes the Character of _Menalcas_ still more ridiculous and unnatural is, that he is stupid and sensible at the same Time.--_Menalcas_ is in the Drawing-Room at Court; and walking very majestically under a Branch of Candlestics; his Wig is caught up by one of them, and hangs dangling in the Air. All the Courtiers fall a laughing.--_Menalcas_ unluckily loses his Feeling, but still retains the Use of his Ears. He is insensible that his Wig is taken off his Head; but yet is so happy as to hear the loud Mirth of the Courtiers, and has still so much good Humour left as to join in Company with them.--_Menalcas_ plays at Backgammon.--He calls for a Glass of Water; ’tis his Turn to throw; he has the Box in one Hand and the Glass in the other; and being extremely dry, and unwilling to lose Time, he swallows down both the Dice and almost the Box, and at the same Time throws the Glass of Water into the Tables.--If this is not to overstrain the Bow, to carry Things to an unnatural Excess and Extravagance, and to make no Distinction between Absence of Mind and Insensibility, or downright Folly, I confess, I know not what is. _Mr. de la Bruyere_ should have consider’d, that a Man, who has lost his Feeling, is not, in that Respect, a proper Subject for Ridicule, and that ’tis no Jest to take away a Man’s Senses. Extravagances of this Nature are no Beauties in any Kind of Writing, much less in Characteristics. In Performances of this Kind there must be Spirit and Strength, but especially there must be Justice. The real Images of Life must be represented, or the Probabilities of Nature must strictly be observ’d.

[M] _Respicere exemplar vitæ morumque jubebo Doctum imitatorem, & vivas hinc ducere voces._

These are the likeliest Copies, which are drawn By the Original of human Life. Ld. _Roscommon_.

[M: Horat. in Art. Poet. _v._ 317, &c.]

The Strokes which compose a Character must be bold, but not extravagant. Nature must not be distorted, to excite either Ridicule or Admiration. Reason must hold the Reins of the Imagination: Judgment must direct the Fancy; otherwise we shall be apt to miscarry, and connect inconsistent Ideas, at the very Time, when we think we hit the Point of Humour to the Life.

The only Thing that can be said to excuse Mr. _de la Bruyere_ on this Head, is what the Abbot _Fleury_ has alledg’d to his Praise; namely, [N]that his Characters are sometimes loaded, on purpose that they might not too nearly resemble the Persons design’d.

[N: On trouve dans ses Characteres une severe Critique, des Expressions vives, des Tours ingenieux, des Peintures quelquefois chargeés exprés, pour ne les pas faire trop ressemblantes. _Discours prononcé dans l’Academie Française._ 1696.]

’Tis very dangerous, I confess, to make free with the Characters of particular Persons; for there are some Men in the World, who, tho’ they are not asham’d of the Impropriety of their own