Part 1

E-text prepared by Turgut Dincer and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org)

Note: Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive. See https://archive.org/details/charactersoftheo00theorich

THE CHARACTERS OF THEOPHRASTUS

A Translation, with Introduction

by

CHARLES E. BENNETT and WILLIAM A. HAMMOND

Professors in Cornell University

Longmans, Green, and Co. 91 and 93 Fifth Avenue, New York London and Bombay 1902

Copyright, 1902, by Longmans, Green, and Co.

All rights reserved

[October, 1902]

The University Press Cambridge, U. S. A.

_To THOMAS DAY SEYMOUR In Profound Esteem_

_Preface_

This translation of _The Characters_ of Theophrastus is intended not for the narrow circle of classical philologists, but for the larger body of cultivated persons who have an interest in the past.

Within the last century only three English translations of _The Characters_ have appeared; one by Howell (London, 1824), another by Isaac Taylor (London, 1836), the third by Professor Jebb (London, 1870). All of these have long been out of print, a fact that seemed to justify the preparation of the present work.

The text followed has been, in the main, that of the edition published in 1897 by the _Leipziger Philologische Gesellschaft_. A few coarse passages have been omitted, and occasionally a phrase necessary to the understanding of the context has been inserted. Apart from this the translators have aimed to render the original with as much precision and fidelity as is consistent with English idiom.

CHARLES E. BENNETT. WILLIAM A. HAMMOND.

ITHACA, N.Y., _August, 1902_.

_Contents_

PAGE

INTRODUCTION xi

EPISTLE DEDICATORY 1

THE DISSEMBLER (I.)[1] 4

THE FLATTERER (II.) 7

THE COWARD (XXV.) 11

THE OVER-ZEALOUS MAN (IV.) 14

THE TACTLESS MAN (XII.) 16

THE SHAMELESS MAN (IX.) 18

THE NEWSMONGER (VIII.) 21

THE MEAN MAN (X.) 24

THE STUPID MAN (XIV.) 27

THE SURLY MAN (XV.) 29

THE SUPERSTITIOUS MAN (XVI.) 31

THE THANKLESS MAN (XVII.) 35

THE SUSPICIOUS MAN (XVIII.) 37

THE DISAGREEABLE MAN (XX.) 39

THE EXQUISITE (XXI.) 41

THE GARRULOUS MAN (III.) 46

THE BORE (VII.) 48

THE ROUGH (VI.) 51

THE AFFABLE MAN (V.) 54

THE IMPUDENT MAN (XI.) 56

THE GROSS MAN (XIX.) 58

THE BOOR (IV.) 60

THE PENURIOUS MAN (XXII.) 63

THE POMPOUS MAN (XXIV.) 66

THE BRAGGART (XXIII.) 68

THE OLIGARCH (XXVI.) 71

THE BACKBITER (XXVIII.) 74

THE AVARICIOUS MAN (XXX.) 77

THE LATE LEARNER (XXVII.) 81

THE VICIOUS MAN (XXIX.) 84

[1] Numerals in parenthesis give the corresponding numbers of the characters as published in the edition of the Leipziger Philologische Gesellschaft.

_Introduction_

“What stories are new?” asks Thackeray, subtle observer of men.

[Sidenote: _The Antiquity of Modern Character-Types_]

[Sidenote: _Accidental and Essential Types_]

“All types of all characters march through all fables: tremblers and boasters; victims and bullies: dupes and knaves; long-eared Neddies, giving themselves leonine airs; Tartuffes wearing virtuous clothing; lovers and their trials, their blindness, their folly and constancy. With the very first page of the human story do not love, and lies too, begin? So the tales were told ages before Æsop; and asses under lions’ manes roared in Hebrew; and sly foxes flattered in Etruscan; and wolves in sheep’s clothing gnashed their teeth in Sanscrit, no doubt. The sun shines to-day as he did when he first began shining; and the birds in the tree overhead, while I am writing, sing very much the same note they have sung ever since there were finches. There may be nothing new under and including the sun; but it looks fresh every morning, and we rise with it to toil, hope, scheme, laugh, struggle, love, suffer, until the night comes and quiet. And then will wake Morrow and the eyes that look on it; and so _da capo_.” All this is very true; the changes which may be observed in human nature are small, and the old types of Theophrastus are all about us nowadays and really look and act much the same as they did to the eyes of the ancient Peripatetic. Offices and institutions have somewhat changed, and many character-types due to new vocations have come into being since then, _e.g._ the newsboy, the bishop, the reporter, the hotel-clerk, and the jockey. But these are only accidents of civilization, and the peculiarities of office or the type or professional character do not touch the vital essence of human nature, although they may modify its expression.

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.”

[Sidenote: _The Tactless Man_]

There existed, of course, then as now, the tactless person, who “selects a man’s busiest hour for a lengthy conference, and who sings love ditties under his sweetheart’s window as she lies ill of a fever.” “At a wedding, he declaims against womankind, and when a friend has just finished a journey, he invites him to go for a walk.” “If he happens to be standing by when a slave is flogged, he tells the story of how he once flogged a slave of his, who then went and hanged himself.”

[Sidenote: _The Mean Man_]

There was the mean man, too, who, if his servant broke a pot or plate, deducted its value from the poor fellow’s rations. “He permits no one to take a fig from his garden or cross his field, or even to pick up windfalls under his fruit trees. He forbids his wife to lend salt or lamp-wicks or a pinch of cummin, marjoram, or meal, observing that these trifles make a large sum in a year.”

[Sidenote: _The Thankless Man_]

There was also the thankless man whose pessimism is so gloomy as to cloud all view of his blessings. “When a friend has sent him something from his table, he says to the servant who brings it: ‘He grudged me a dish of soup and a cup of wine, I suppose, and so couldn’t invite me to dinner.’” “If he secures a slave at a bargain after long dickering with the owner, he says: ‘I imagine I haven’t got much at this price.’ And to the person who brings him the glad tidings that a son is born to him, he retorts, ‘If you only add: “And half your fortune’s gone,” you’ll hit it.’”

[Sidenote: _Petty Vanity_]

Then we have the man who is ostentatious in trivial things. “When he has sacrificed an ox, he winds the head and horns with fillets, and nails them up, opposite the entrance of his house.” “When he parades with the cavalry he gives all his accoutrements to his squire to carry home, and throwing back his mantle stalks proudly about the market-place in his spurs.” When he is master of the prytany, he craves the privilege of announcing to the people the result of the sacrifice; and as soon as he has delivered to the people the momentous intelligence that the sacrifice has resulted well, he hies him home and recounts his triumph to his wife in an ecstasy of joy.

The foregoing are but illustrations of the happy skill with which Theophrastus has delineated a number of character-types which are as universal as human nature and know no limits of age or of country. Here and there we meet a type in the Greek for which we have no exact counterpart in our customary modern modes of thought. Such a type may be seen in Theophrastus’s “The Disagreeable Man,” a person who seems a sort of general nuisance with a touch of the bore and the braggart. As a rule, however, the types are singularly like those we know to-day, and it is not difficult at once to provide them with appropriate modern labels. The treatment, though almost invariably brief, is invariably vigorous and trenchant. With a few bold strokes the character is drawn. There is absolutely no pretense of style, as we ordinarily understand it; yet each type is in its way a gem. Through them all runs that fidelity to truth which was the unfailing inspiration of all Greek art. It is this which makes _The Characters_ a unique creation and vindicates their position as a part of the world’s literature.

[Sidenote: _The Earliest Attempt at Character-writing_]

It is largely for this reason that these slight sketches are here produced in English, exhibiting as they do, when we compare them with what we see around us, the essential identity of human nature in ages widely separated from each other in time and manners.[2] There is, furthermore, an accidental interest in the work of Theophrastus, due to the fact that it is the first recorded attempt at systematic character-writing. Characters, to be sure, are portrayed in Homer and in the tragedians, but they are incidental to the narrative or to the dramatic plot, whereas in Theophrastus the business is with the delineation of a character as such.

[Sidenote: _The Influence of Theophrastus_]

He tells us what a man does, simply as an illustration of what he is, and this method of writing had a very intimate bearing on the evolution of the New Comedy under the leadership of Menander. There is a tradition, in fact, that Theophrastus was the teacher of Menander, who in turn furnished models for Terence in his delineation of conventional dramatic types. The influence of Theophrastus was further directly and potently exerted on the so-called character-writers of the seventeenth century in England and France. The simple methods of these character-writers and their uninvolved sketches were succeeded by the more elaborate art of the novelists, in whose works individuals rather than types are described by exhibiting their development in long periods of time and under great diversity of circumstances.

[Sidenote: _The Youth of Theophrastus_]

[Sidenote: _Theophrastus and Aristotle_]

[Sidenote: _Theophrastus Chosen by Aristotle to be President of the Lyceum_]

[Sidenote: _Death of Theophrastus_]

[Sidenote: _His Writings and Genius_]

[Sidenote: _His Will_]

We have little information as to the personal history of Theophrastus, beyond what we learn from the extant fragments of his writings and from the meagre biography of Diogenes of Laërte. He was born at Eresus, a village on the island of Lesbos, in 371 B.C., and his father was one Melantas, a fuller by trade. He first went to school to Alcippus in his native island, but afterwards travelled to Athens, the intellectual metropolis, and became a pupil of Plato at the Academy, with whom he appears to have studied until the Master’s death. Theophrastus was then in his twenty-fifth year. At that time he attached himself to Aristotle, who was some twelve years his senior and who had also been a member of the Academy, until Plato died _scribens_. During the twelve years which elapsed from the death of Plato until Aristotle established the new school of the Lyceum (in 335 B.C.), Theophrastus was probably with his new leader, at least part of the time, in Stagira or at the Macedonian court, where the youthful Alexander was under the tutorial discipline of Aristotle. Theophrastus was an intimate friend of Callisthenes, the unfortunate fellow-student and companion of Alexander, and it is probable that the two studied together at Pella. 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.

[Sidenote: _The Characters_]

[Sidenote: _A Fragment from a Larger Work_]

[Sidenote: _Mimetic Delineations of Moral and Social Defects_]

[Sidenote: _Realism_]

Theophrastus is more generally known for his character sketches than for his scientific work, although his treatises on botany represented the highest attainments made by science in that field during antiquity and the Middle Ages. The treatise here translated (ἠθικοὶ χαρακτῆρες) sets forth thirty types of character striking to the Greek mind. They are probably a fragment or extract made by some epitomator from a larger treatise which was suggested by the abstract ethical analyses of Aristotle, as exhibited in the _Nicomachean Ethics_, and by the concrete dramatic representations of the New Comedy. The stage suggests the form, and Aristotle’s treatise the content. They represent moral and social defects and weaknesses, though not revolting vices, but they do this in a mimetic way by exhibiting persons as acting or speaking. Theophrastus was a contemporary of Philemon and Menander, and his life was spent in the era of the revival of comedy and the elaboration of current moral types for humorous presentation on the stage. So the characters of Theophrastus are, as it were, _dramatis personae_ of his time. He shows us how a given type of man speaks and acts; the dramatization of his characters would require scarcely anything more than stage setting. His portrayal is not satire, but imitation; not caricature, but realistic delineation from life. Moreover, this description of generic types rather than of individuals belongs to the literary fashion of his age. Looked at from this mimetic point of view, _The Characters_ of Theophrastus are historically all the more important, because our knowledge of Menander, the “tenth muse,” is so meagre, resting, as it does, upon scanty Greek fragments and a few Latin adaptations.

[Sidenote: _Greek Notion of Vice_]

These thirty sketches at the beginning of the post-classical age do not represent, properly speaking, vices, and yet they were vices to the mind of the Greek, who measured his morality largely by the canons of good form. Any violation of good taste or breach of courtesy was morally vicious. The disposition was to maintain in close unity the natures of beauty and goodness (καλοκἀγαθία); moderns discriminate sharply between the æsthetic and the moral. The social virtues of gentle breeding and the graces of politeness toward their fellow men had for the classical Greeks an ethical nature, as is witnessed in Aristotle’s _Ethics_. Manners and morals were not sundered. What we call a social weakness, or defect, or boorish crudity, Theophrastus called a vice. It is necessary to bear this in mind when one reads the “_moral_ characters,”[5] as they are called in the Greek title.

[Sidenote: _Virtues not Delineated_]

[Sidenote: _The Subject-matter of the Sketches_]

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_.

[Sidenote: _Ridicule as an Instrument of Instruction_]