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Theophrastus
His Moral Characters or Description of Manners

transl. Joseph Healey, 1628




The Characters
Caviling · Flattery · Garrulity · Rusticity · Smoothness · Senselessness · Loquacity · News-forging · Impudence · Avarice · Obscenity · Unseasonableness · Impertinent Diligence · Blockishness · Stubbornness · Superstition · Complaining · Diffidence · Nastiness · Unpleasantness · Affectation · Illiberality · Ostentation · Pride · Timidity · Oligarchy · Late-learning · Detraction

The Author’s Dedication

Oftentimes heretofore considering of this business that good attention, I did much wonder whence it should be that all Greece being of clime and temperature of air, and Grecians in general bred and trained up after one fashion, should notwithstanding in manners and behavior be so different and unlike. I therefore, O Polycles, having a long time observed the divers dispositions of men, having now lived ninety-nine years, have conversed with all sorts of natures bad and good, and comparing them together: I took it my part to set down in this discourse their several fashions and manners of life. For I am of opinion, my Polycles, that our children will prove the more honest and better conditioned, if we shall leave them good precedents of imitation: that of good children they may prove better men. But now to the purpose: It shall be your endeavor to attend and examine what I say. Therefore not to over-preface to that which must be said; I will begin with those which delight in caviling. And first I will define the vice it self: Then I will describe a Caviler by his fashion and manners; afterwards, I will generally set down other affections of the mind.

    

 

I. Caviling

 

Caviling or cavilation (if we should define it rudely) is a wresting of actions and words to the worse or sadder part. A caviler is he, who will entertain his enemies with a pretence of love; who applauds those publicly, whom secretly he seeks to supplant. If any man traduce or deprave him, he easily pardons him without any expostulation. He passes by jests broken upon him, and is very affable with those, which challenge him of any injury by him to them done. Those which desire hastily to speak with him, he gives them a come-again. Whatsoever he does, he hides; and is much in deliberation. To those which would borrow money of him, his answer is 'Tis a dead time; I sell nothing. And when he sells little, then he brags of much. When he hear any thing he will make show not to observe it: He will deny he has seen what he saw. If he bargain for any thing in his own wrong, he will not remember it. Some things he will consider of: some things he knows: some things he knows not; others he wonders at. These words are very usual with him, I do not believe it; I think not so, I wonder at it; of some of these I was so to persuaded before. He will tell you, you mistake him for another: he had no such speech with me. This is beyond belief: find out some other ear for your stories. Shall I believe you, or disable his credit But take you hed how you give credit to these received sayings, veiled and infolded with so many windings of dissimulation. Men of these manners are to be shunned more than vipers.

 

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II. Of Flattery

 

Flattery may be said to be a foul deformed custom in common life, making for the advantage of the flatterer. A flatterer is such a one, as if he walk or converse with you, will thus say unto you: Do you observe, how all men's eyes are upon you? I have not noted any in this town, to be so much beheld. Yesterday in the gallery you had reason to be proud of your reputation. For there being at that time assembled more then thirty persons, and question being made which should be the worthiest citizen; the company being very impatient it should be disputed, concluded all upon you. These and such like he puts upon him. If there be the least mote upon his clothes, or if there should be none, he makes a show to take it off: or if any small straw or feather be gotten into his locks, the flatterer takes it away; and smiling says, you are grown gray within these few days for want of my company, and yet your hair is naturally as black as any man of your years. If he reply, the flatterer proclaims silence, praises him palpably and profusely to his face. When he has spoken, he breaks out into an exclamation, with a O well spoken! And if he break a jest upon any, the flatterer laughs as if he were tickled; muffling himself in his cloak, as if he could not possibly forbear. As he meets any, he plays the gentleman-usher, praying them to give way; as if his patron were a very great person. He buys pears and apples, and bears them home to his children, and gives them (for the most part) in his presence: and kissing them, cries out, O the worthy father's lively picture! If he buy a shoe, if he be present, he swears his foot is far handsomer, and that the shoe miss-shapes it. If at any time he should repair to visit a friend, the flatterer plays the harbinger; runs before, and advertises them of his coming: and speedily returning back again, tells him that he has given them notice thereof. Whatsoever belongs to the women's Academy, as paintings, preserving, needle-works, and such like; he discourses of them like my Lady's woman. Of all the guests, he first commends the wine, and always sitting by his ingle, courts him; asking him how sparingly he feeds, and how he bridles it: and taking some special dish from the table, takes occasion to commend it. He is busy and full of questions; whser this man be not cold; why he goes so thin; and why he will not go better clothed? Then he whispers in his patron's ear: and, while others speak; his eye is still upon him. At the theater, taking the cushions from the boy, he set them up himself: he commends the situation and building of the house; the well tilling and husbanding of the ground. In conclusion, you shall always note a flatterer to speak and do, what he presumes will be most pleasing and agreeable.

 

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III. Of Garrulity

 

Garrulity is a slippery looseness, or a babbling of a long inconsiderate speech. A prattler or babbler is such an one, that unseasonably setting upon any stranger, will commend his wife unto him; or tell his last night's dreams, or what meats, or how many dishes he had at such a feast: and when you listen to him, or that he grows a little encouraged with your attention, he will complain, that modern men are worse then those of elder times: that corn is too cheap, as rents are now improved: that there are too many strangers dwelling in the town: That the seas, after the Dionysian feasts, will be more smooth, and obedient to the sailors: and that if there fall good store of rain, there will be greater plenty of those things, which yet are locked up in the bowels of the earth: and the next year he will till his ground: That 'tis a hard world: and that men have much ado to live: and that when the holy ceremonies were celebrated, Damippus set up the greatest light: inquires therefore how many columns are in the Odeon: and yesterday, he says, I was wamble-cropt, and (saving your presence) parbreaked: and what day of the month is this? but if any man lend him attention, he shall never be clear of him. He will tell you; That the mysteries, Mense Boedromione, Apaturia, Pyanepsione, Posideone, the Dionysia which now are, were wont to be celebrated. These kind of men are to be shunned, with great wariness and speed, as a man would prevent or out-run an ague. For 'tis a miserable condition, to continue long with those which cannot distinguish the seasons of business and leisure.

 

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IV. Of Rusticity or Clownishness

 

Rusticity may seem to be an ignorance of honesty and comeliness. A clown or rude fellow is he, who will go into a crowd or press, when he has taken a purge: And he that says, that garlic is as sweet as a gilli-flower: that wears shoes much larger then his feet: that speaks always very loud: who distrusting his friends and familiars, in serious affairs advises with his servants: who, the things which he heard in the senate, imparts to his mercenaries, who do his drudgery in the country: one that sits so with his hose drawn up at his knee as you might see his skin. Upon the way whatsoever strange accident he encounters, he wonders at nothing. But if he see an ox, an ass or a goat, then the man is at a stand, and begins to look about him: proud when he can rob the cupboard or the cellar, and then snap up a scrap; very careful that the wench that makes the bread take him not napping. He grinds, caters, drudges, purveys, and plays the sutler, for all things belonging to a house-provision. When he is at dinner, he casts meat to his beasts; if any body knock at the door, he listens like a cat for a mouse. Calling his dog to him, and taking him by the snout: This fellow, says he, keeps my ground, my house, and all that is in it. If he receives money, he rejects it as light; and desires to have it changed. If he has lent his plough, his scythe, or his sack; he sends for them again at midnight, if he chance to think of them in his sleep.

Coming into the City, whomsoever he meets, he asks the price of hides and salt fish, and whser there be any plays this new moon: and so soon as he does alight, he tells them all, that he will be trimmed: And this fellow still sings in the bath; and clouts his shoes with hob-nails. And because it was the same way to receive his salt meats from Archias, it was his fashion to carry it himself.

 

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V. Of fair Speech or Smoothness

 

Smoothness, or fawning, if we should define it, is an encounter containing many allurements to pleasure; and those (for the most part) not more honest then they should be. But a sleek stone or smooth-boot (as we term him) is he, that salutes a man as far off, as his eye can carry level; stiles him most worthy; admires his fortune; and taking him by both the hands, detains him, not suffering him to pass. But having a while accompanied him, is very inquisitive when he shall see him again; embroidering and painting out his praise. The same being chosen an arbitrator, endeavors not only to content him on whose behalf he is chosen, but the adverse part likewise, that so he may be held an indifferent friend to them both. He maintains, when strangers speak wiser and more just things than his own fellow Citizens. Being invited to a feast, he entreats the master of the entertainment to send in for his children: and when they are come, he swears they resemble their father, as near as one fig does another. Then calling them to him, he kisses them, and sets them by him: and Jesting with others of the company, says he, Compare them with the father, they are as like him, as an apple is like an oyster. He will suffer others sleeping to rest in his bosom, when he is laden with a sore burden. He trims himself often: he keeps his tes clean and white: changes and turkizes his clothes. His walk is commonly in that part, where the Goldsmiths' and Bankers' tables are: and uses those places of activity where young youths do exercise themselves. At shows and in the theaters, he places himself next the praetors; but in the courts of justice he seldom appears. But he buys presents, to send to his friend at Byzantium. Little dogs, and Hymettian honey he sends to Rhodes: and he tells his fellow-citizens that he does these things. Besides, he keeps an ape at home; buys a satyr, and Sicilian doves; and boxes of treacle, of those which are of a round form; and slaves, those that are somewhat bending and oblique, brought from Lacedaemon; and tapestry, wherein the Persians are woven and set out. He has a little yard, graveled, fit for wrestling; and a tennis court. And these parts of his house, his manner is to offer your present unto any he meets, whser philosopher or sophist, or those which exercise themselves in arms, or music, that they may use their cunning: which while they do, he speaks to one of the lookers on, as if he were but a mere spectator himself, says: I pray you, whose wrestling place is this?

 

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VI. Of Senselessness, or Desperate Boldness

 

Senselessness is that, whereby a man dares both speak and do against the laws and rules of honesty. The man is he, which readily (or rashly) takes an oath; who is careless of his reputation; reckons little, to be railed upon; is of the garb or disposition of a crafty imposter; a lewd dirty fellow, daring to do any thing but that is fit. He is not ashamed, being sober, in cool bloud, to dance country dances and matachines, as a Zany or Pantalon; and when the jugglers show their tricks, to go to every spectator and beg his offering: And if any man bring a token and would pay nothing, then to wrangle and brabble extremely; fit to keep an alehouse, or an inn: to be a punter or a toll-gatherer, a fellow that will forbear no foul or base course: He will be a common crier, a cook, a dicer; he denies his mother food. Being convicted of theft, he shall be drawn and haled by head and shoulders; he shall dwell longer in prison, then in his own house. This is one of those, which ever and anon have a throng about them, calling to them all they meet, to whom they speak in a great broken tone, railing on them. And thus they come and go, before they understand what the matter is: whilst he tells some the beginning; some scantily a word; others he tells some little part of the whole; affecting to publish and protest his damnable disposition. He is full of suits and actions; both such as he suggests against others; and such as are framed against him. He is a common maker of affidavit for other men's absence. He suborns actions against himself: In his bosom he bears a box, and in his hand a bundle of papers. And such is his impudence, he gives himself out to be general of the petti-foggers and knights of the post. He puts out money to use: and for a groat, takes daily three farthings. He goes oftentimes into the fish-market, taverns, cooks shops, and shambles: and the money that he gets by his brokerage, he commonly hides in his mouth. These men are very hard to be endured: their tongues are traded in detraction: and when they rail, they do it in such a stormy and tempestuous fashion, as all courts and taverns are pestered with their clamors.

 

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VII. Of Loquacity or Overspeaking

 

Loquacity is a looseness or intemperance of speech. A prattling fellow is he, who says to him with whom he discourses, whatsoever he begins to say, anticipates him; that he knows all already, and that the other says nothing to purpose; and that if he will apply him serf to him, he shall understand somewhat: then interrupting him, take hed, says he, that you forget not that you would say, etc. You do well that you have called it to mind, etc. How necessary and useful a thing confidence is! There's somsing that I have omitted now, etc. You apprehend it very readily, etc. I did expect that we should thus jump together, etc. And seeking the like occasions of prattling and verbosity, permits them no truce nor breathing time with whom he discourses. And when he has killed these, then he assaults fresh men in troops, when they are many assembled together. And those, being seriously employed, he wearies, tires, and puts to flight. Coming into plays, and wrestling places, he keeps the boys from learning; prattling with their masters: and if any offer to go away, he follows them to their houses. If any thing done publicly be known to him, he will report as private. Then he will tell you of the war, when Aristophanes that noble orator lived: or he will tell you a long tedious tale of that battle which was fought by the Lacedemonians under Lysander their general: and, if ever he spoke well publicly himself, that must come in too. And thus speaking, he inveighs against the giddy multitude; and that so lamely, and with such torment to the hearers; as that one desires the art of oblivion; another sleeps; a third gives him over in the plain field. In conclusion, whser he sit in judgment (except he sit alone) or if he behold any sports, or if he sit at table; he vexes his pew-fellow with his vile, impertinent, importunate prattle: for it is a hell to him to be silent. A secret in his breast, is a coal in his mouth. A swallow in a chimney makes not such a noise. And, so his humor be advanced, he's contented to be flouted by his very boys, which jeer him to his face; entreating him, when they go to bed, to talk them asleep.

 

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VIII. Of News-forging, or Rumor-spreading

 
Fame-spreading, is a devising of deeds and words at the fancy or pleasure of the inventor. A news-monger he is, who meeting with his acquaintance, changing his countenance and smiling, asks whence come you now ? How go the rules now? Is there any news stirring? And still spurring him with questions, tells him there are excellent and happy occurrences abroad. Then, before he answers, by way of prevention asks, have you anything in store? why then I will feast you with my choicest intelligence. Then has he at hand some cast captain, or cashiered soldier, or some fifes boy lately come from war, of whom he has heard some very strange stuff, I warrant you: always producing such authors as no man can control. He will tell him, he heard that Polyspherchon and the king discomfited and overthrew his enemies, and that Cassander was taken prisoner. But if any man say unto him, do you believe this? Yes marry do believe it, replies he: for it is bruited all the town over by a general voice. The rumor spreads, all generally agree in this report of the war; and that there was an exceeding great overthrow. And this he gathers by the very countenance and carriage of these great men which sit at the stern. Then he proceeds and tells you further, That he heard by one which came lately out of Macedonia, who was present at all which passed, that now these five days he has bin kept close by them. Then he falls to terms of commiseration. Alas, good, but unfortunate Cassander! O careful desolate man! This can misfortune do. Cassander was a very powerful man in his time, and of a very great command: but I would entreat you to keep this to your self; and yet he runs to every one to tell them of it. I do much wonder what pleasure men should take in devising and dispersing those rumors. The which things, that I mention not the baseness and deformity of a lie, turn them to many inconveniences.

For, it falls out oftentimes that while these, mountebank-like, draw much company about them, in the baths and such like places, some good rogues steal away their clothes, others, sitting in a porch or gallery, while they over-come in a sea, or a land-fight are fined for not appearance. Others, while with their words they valiantly take cities, loose their suppers. These men lead a very miserable and wretched life. For what gallery is there, what shop, wherein they waste not whole days, with the penance of those whose ears they set on the pillory with their tedious un-jointed tales?

 

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IX. Of Impudency

 

Impudence may be defined, A neglect of reputation for dirty lucre's sake. An impudent man is he, who will not stick to attempt to borrow money of him, whom he has already deceived; or from whom he fraudulently somewhat detains. When he sacrifices, and has seasoned it with salt, lays it up and sups abroad: and calling his page or lackey, causing him to take up the scraps, in every man's hearing says you honest man, fall to, I pray you, do not spare. When he buys any meat he wills the Butcher to bsink himself if in ought he were beholding unto him. Then sitting by the scales, if he can he will throw in some bit of fish, or (rather then fail) some bone into the scales: the which if he can slyly take away again, he thinks he has done an excellent piece of service; if not, then he will steal some scrap from a table, and laughing sneak away. If any strangers which lodge with him, desire to see a play in the theater, he bespeaks a place for them; and under their expense intrudes himself, his children and their pedant. And if he meet any man which has bought some small commodities, he begs part of them of him. And when he goes to any neighbor's house, to borrow salt, barley, meal, or any the like: such is his impudence he enforces them to bring anything, so borrowed, home to his house. Likewise in the baths, coming to the pans and kettles after he has filled the bucket, washes himself; not without the storms and clamors of him that keeps the Bath; and when he has done, says I am bathed; And turning to the bather or bath-keeper, says, Sir, now I thank you for nothing.

 

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X. Of base Avarice or Parsimony

 

Base or sordid Parsimony, is a desire to save or spare expense without measure of discretion. Basely parsimonious he is, who being with his feast-companions does exact and stand upon a farthing as strictly, as if it were a quarters rent of his house; and tells how many drinking cups are taken out, as if he were jealous of some legerdemain; one of all the company that offers the leanest sacrifice to Diana. Now whatsoever expense he is at, he proclaims and aggravates it, as a great disbursement. If any of his servants break but a pitcher, or an earthen pot, he defalks it out of their wages. If his wife loses but a trivet, the beacons are on fire: he will toss, turmoil, and ransack every corner in the house; beds, bedsteads, nothing must be spared; he sells at such rates, that no man can do good upon it. No man may borrow any thing of him; scantly light a stick of fire, for fear of setting his house on fire, not part with so much as a rotten fig, or a withered olive. Every day he surveys his grounds and the buttals thereof, lest there be any encroaching, or any thing removed. If any debtor miss his day but a minute, he is sure to pay soundly for forbearance; besides usury upon usury, if he continue it. If he invite any, he entertains them so as they rise hungry: and when he goes abroad, if he can escape scot-free, he comes fasting home. He charges his wife, that she lend out no salt, oil, meal or the like: for you little think, says he, what these come to in a year. In a word, you shall see their Chests moldy, their keys rusty, for themselves, their habit and diet is always too little for them and out of fashion. Small troughs wherein they anoint themselves: their heads shaven, to save barbing: their shoes they put off at noon days, to save wearing: they deal with the fullers, when they make clean their clothes, to put in good store of fullers earth, to keep them from soil and spotting.

 

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XI. Of Obscenity, or Ribaldry

 

Impurity or beastliness is not hard to be defined. It is a licentious lewd jest. He is impure or flagitious, who meeting with modest women, shows that which takes his name of shame or secrecy. Being at a play in the theatre, when all are attentively silent, he in a cross conceit applauds, or claps his hands: and when the spectators are exceedingly pleased, he hisses: and when all the company is very attentive in hearing and beholding, he lying alone belches or breaks wind, as if Æolus were bustling in his Cave; forcing the spectators to look another way: and when the hall or stage is fullest of company, coming to those which sell nuts and apples, and other fruits standing by them, takes them away and munches them; and wrangles about their price and such like baubles. He will call to him a stranger he never saw before; and stay one whom he sees in great haste. If he hear of a man that has lost a great suit, and is condemned in great charges, as he passes out of the Hall, comes unto him, and congratulates, and bids God give him joy. And when he has bought meat, and hired musicians, he shows to all he meets and invites them to it. And being at a barber's shop, or an anointing place, he tells the company that that night he is absolutely resolved to drink drunk. If he keep a Tavern, he will give his best friends his baptized wine, to keep them in the right way. At plays when they are most worthy the seeing, he suffers not his children to go to them. Then he sends them, when they are to be seen for nothing, for the redeemers of the Theaters. When an Ambassador goes abroad, leaving at home his victual which was publicly given him, he begs more of his companion’s. His manner is to lode his man, which journeys with him, with cloak-bags and carriages, like a Porter; but takes an order that his belly be light enough. When he anoints himself, he complains the oil is rank; and anoints himself with that which he pays not for. If a boy find a brass piece or a counter, he cries half part. These likewise are his. If he buy anything, he buys it by the Phidonian measure, but he measures miserably to his servants; shaving, and pinching them to a grain. If he be to pay thirty pound he will be sure it shall want three groats. When he feasts any of his allies; his boys that attend, are fed out of the common: and if there scrape away but half a radish or any fragment, he notes it, lest the boys that wait, meet with it.

 

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XII. Of Unseasonableness; or Ignorance of due convenient Times

 

Unseasonableness is a troublesome burdening and assaulting of those, with whom we have to do. An unseasonable fellow is he, who coming to his friend when he is very busy, interrupts him, and obtrudes his own affairs to be deliberated and debated: or comes a gossiping to his sweetheart, when she is sick of an ague. His manner is likewise to entreat him to solicit or intercede for him, who is already condemned for suretyship. He sells his horse to buy hay: produces his witnesses, when judgment is given: inveighs against women, when he is invited to a marriage. Those that are very weary with a long journey, he invites to walk. Oftentimes, rising out of the midst of many, which sit about him, as if he would recount some strange accident, tells them for news an old tedious tale, which they all knew to be trivial before. He is very forward to undertake those things, which men are unwilling to do, or in modesty refuse. Those which sacrifice and feast he makes great love to, hoping to get a snatch. If a man beat his servant in his presence, he will tell him that he had a boy that he himself beat after that fashion, who hanged himself presently after. If he be chosen Arbitrator betwixt two at difference, which desire earnestly to be accorded, he sets them out further then ever they were before.

 

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XIII. Of Impertinent Diligence, or Over-officiousness

 

That which we term a foolish sedulity or officiousness, is a counterfeiting of our words and actions with a show or ostentation of love. The manners of such men are these. He vainly undertakes what he is not able to perform. A matter generally confessed to be just, he will with many words, insisting upon some one particular, maintain that it cannot be argued. He causes the boy or waiter, to mingle more wine by much then all the guests can drink. He urges those further, who are already together by the ears. He will lead you the way he knows not himself: losing himself, and him whom he undertakes to conduct. And coming to a general, or a man of great name in arms, demands when he will set a battle; and what service he will command him the next day after tomorrow. And coming to his father, he tells him that now his mother is asleep in her chamber. And that the physician has forbidden his patient the use of wine: this fellow persuades him not so much to enthrall himself to his Physician's directions; but to put his constitution to it a little. If his wife chance to die, he will write upon her tomb the name of husband, father, mother, and her country: adding this inscription, ‘all these people were of very honest life and reputation.’ And if he be urged to take his oath, turning himself to the surrounding multitude: what need I swear now, having sworn oftentimes heretofore?

 

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XIV. Of Blockishness, Dullness, or Stupidity

 

You may define blockishness to bee a dullness or slowness of the mind; where there be question to speak or do. A blockish fellow is he, who after he has cast up an account, asks him who stands next him what the sum was; or one, who having a cause to be heard upon a peremptory day, forgets himself, and goes into the country: and sitting in the theater, falls asleep; and when all are gone, is there left alone. The same, when he has overgorged himself, rising in the night to make room for more-meat, stumbles upon his neighbor's dog, and is all to-bewearied. The same, having laid up somewhat very carefully, when he looks for it cannot find it. When he hears that some friend of his is dead, and that he is entreated to the funeral, looking sourly, and wringing out a tear or two, says; Much good may it do him. When he receives money, he calls for witnesses: and winter growing on, he quarrels with his man because he bought him no cucumbers. When he is in the country, he seasons lentils himself: and so over-salts them, that they cannot be eaten. And when it rains; how pleasant, says he, is this star-water! Being asked how many people were carried out by the holy gate: how many? says he, I would you and I had so many.

 

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XV. Of Stubbornness, Obstinacy, or Fierceness

 

Contumacy or stubbornness is an hardness or harshness in the passages of common life. A stubborn or harsh fellow is so framed; as if you ask him where such a man is, answers churlishly; what have I to doe with him? Trouble me not. Being saluted, he salutes not again. When he sells any thing, if you demand his price, he vouchsafes not an answer; but rather asks the buyer what fault he finds with his wares. Unto religious men, which at solemn feasts present the gods with gifts, he is wont to say, that the gifts which they receive from above, are not given them for nothing. If any man casually or unwittingly thrust him, or tread on his foot; it is an immortal quarrel, he is inexorable. And when he refuses a friend, that demands a small sum of money, he comes after voluntary, and brings it himself; but with this sting of reproach, well, come on, hatchet after helve, I shall even lose this too.

 

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XVI. Of Superstition

 

Superstition we may define, A reverend awful respect to a sovereignty or divine power. But he is superstitious, which with washed hands, and being besprinkled with holy water out of the Temple, bearing a bay leaf in his mouth, walks so a whole day together. If that a weasel cross the way, he will not go forward until another has past before him, or he has thrown three stones over the way. If he see any Serpents in an house, there he will build a chapel. Shining stones which are in the common ways, he does anoint with oil out of a vial; not departing until he has worshipped them upon his knees. But if a Mouse has gnawed his meal bag, he repairs instantly to his Wizards, advises with them what were best to be done: who if they answer, that it should be had to the botchers to mend, our superstitious man, neglecting the soothsayers direction, shall in honor to his religion empty his bag and cast it away. He does also often times perfume, or purify his house: He stays not long by any grave or sepulcher: He goes not to funerals, nor to any woman in child-bed. If he chance to have a vision, or any thing that's strange, in his sleep, he goes to all the soothsayers, diviners, and wizards, to know to what god or goddess he should present his vows: and to the end he may be initiated in holy Orders, he goes often unto the Orphetulists, how many months with his wife, or if she be not at leisure, with his Nurse, and his daughters. Besides, in corners, before he go from thence, sprinkling water upon his head, he purges by sacrifice: and calling for those women which minister, commands himself to be purged with the sea-onion, or bearing about of a whelp. But if he see any mad man, or one troubled with the falling sickness, all frightened and disquieted, by way of charm, his manner is to spit upon his bosom.

 

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XVII. Of Causeless Complaining

 

A Causeless complaint, is an expostulation framed upon no ground. These are the manners of a querulous wayward man: that if a friend send him a modicum from a banquet, he will say to him that brings it, this is the reason I was not invited: you vouchsafe me not a little pottage and your hedge-wine. And when his mistress kisses him, I wonder (says he) if these be not flattering kisses. He's displeased with Jupiter: not only if he do not rain, but if he send it late: and finding a purse upon the way, he complains that he never found any great treasure. Likewise when he has bought a slave for little or nothing, having importuned him that sold him therunto; I wonder, says he, if I should ever have bought any thing of worth so cheap. If any man bring him glad tidings, that God has sent him a son, he answers; if you had told me I had lost half my wealth, then you had hit it. Having gained a cause by all men's voices, he complains (notwithstanding) of him that pleads for him, for that he omitted many things that were due to him. Now if his friends do contribute to supply his wants, and if some one say unto him; Now be cheerful, now be merry: I have great cause, he will say, when I must repay this money back again, and be beholding for it besides.

 

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XVIII. Of Diffidence, or Distrust

 

Diffidence or distrust, is that which makes us jealous of fraud from all men. A diffident or distrustful man is he, who if he send one to buy victuals, sends another after him to know what he paid. If he bears money about him, he tells it at every furlong. Lying in his bed, he asks his wife if she has locked her casket; if his chests be fast locked; if the doors be fast bolted: and although she assures it, notwithstanding, naked without shoes he rises out of his bed, lights a candle, surveys all; and hardly falls asleep again for distrust. When he comes to his debtors for his use-money, he goes strong with his witnesses. When he is to turn; or trim some old gaberdine, he puts it not to the best fuller, but to him that does best secure the return of his commodity. If any man borrow any pots, any pails, or pans, if he lend them it is very rare: but commonly he sends for them instantly again, before they are well at home with them. He bids his boy, not to follow them at the hels, but to go before them, lest they make escape with them. And to those which bid him make a note of any thing they borrow: nay, says he, lay down rather; for my men are not at leisure to come and ask it.

 

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XIX. Of Nastiness

 

Nastiness, is a neglect, or carelessness of the body; a slovenliness or beastliness very loathsome to men. A nasty beastly fellow is he, who having a leprosy, pox, or other contagious disease, wearing long and loathsome nails, intrudes himself into company; and says: Gentlemen of race and antiquity have these diseases; and that his Father, and Grand father were subject to the same. This fellow having ulcers in his legs, nodes or hard tumors in his fingers, seeks no remedy for them; suffering them to grow incurable; hairy as a Goat, black and worm-eaten teeths, foul breath; with him 'tis frequent and familiar, to wipe his nose when he is at meat, to talk with his mouth full, and not to breathe, but to belch in the midst of his draught; to use rank oil in his bathing; to come into the hall or senate house, with clothes all stained and full of spots. Whosoever went to soothsayers, he would not spare them but give them foul language. Oftentimes, when supplications and sacrifices were made, he would suffer the bowl to fall out of his hand, as it were casually, but purposely: then he would take up a great laughter, as if some prodigy or ominous thing had happened. When he hears any fiddlers, he cannot hold but he must keep time, and with a kind of mimic gesticulation as it were applaud and imitate their chords. Then he rails on the fiddler as a trouble-cup; because he made an end no sooner: and while he would spit beyond the table, he all-to-bespawls him who skinks at the feast.

 

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XX. Of Unpleasantness, or Tediousness

 

If we should define tediousness, it is a troublesome kind of conversing, without any other damage or prejudice. A tedious fellow is he, who wakens one suddenly out of his sleep which went lately to bed; and being entreated, troubles him with impertinent loud prating: and that he who now comes unto him, is ready to go aboard and that a little lingering may hurt him: only I wished him to forbear, until I had some little conference with you. Likewise, taking the child from the Nurse, he puts meat half chewed into the mouth, as Nurses are wont; and calling him Pretty, and Lovely, will cull and stroke him. At his meat he tells you, that he took elleborus, which stuck so in his guts, that it wrought with him upwards and downwards. Then he tells you that his sieges were blacker than broth, that's set to. He delights to enquire of his mother, his friends being present, what day she was delivered of him. He will tell that he has very cold water in his cistern, and complains, that his house lies so open to passengers, as if it were a public Inn. And when he entertains any guests, he brings forth his parasite, that they may see what manner of brain it is: And in his feast, turning himself to him, he says; you parasite, look that you content them well.

 

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XXI. Of a base and frivolous Affectation of Praise

 

You may term this affectation, a shallow, petty, bastard ambition, altogether illiberal and degenerate. But the foolish ambitious fellow is he, who being invited to supper, desires to sit by the master of the feast; who brings his son from Delphi only that he might cut his hair; who is very desirous to have a lackey an Asiopian; who, if he pay but a pound in silver, affects to pay it in money lately coined. And if he sacrifice an ox, his manner is to place the fore-part of his head circled with garlands in the entry of the door, that all men that enter may know that he has killed an ox. And when he goes in state and pomp with other knights, all other things being delivered to his boy to bear home, he comes cloaked into the market place and there walks his stations. And if a little dog or whippet of his die, oh he makes him a tomb, and writes upon a little pillar or pyramid, surculus melitensis, a Melitean plant. And when he does consecrate an iron ring to Aesculapius, hanging up still new crowns he shall wear it away. And he himself is daily bedaubed with onions. All things which belong to the charge of the Magistrates, whom they call Prytanes, he himself is very careful of: that when they have offered, he may recount the manner to the people. Therefore crowned, and clothed in white, he comes forth into the assembly and says: We Prytanes, oh Athenians, do perform our holy ceremonies and rites to the mother of the gods, and have sacrificed. Therefore, expect all happy and prosperous events. These things thus related, he returns home to his house; reporting to his wife, that all things have succeeded beyond expectation.

 

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XXII. Of Illiberality, or Servility

 

Illiberality, or Servility, is too great a contempt of glory, proceeding from the like desire to spare expense. An illiberal fellow is he, who if he should gain the victory in a tragic encounter, would consecrate to Bacchus a wooden bowl, wherein his name should be inscribed. He is likewise one, who in a needful distressed season of the commonwealth, when by the citizens there is given a very extraordinary contribution, rising up in a full assembly, is either silent or gets him gone. Being to bestow his daughter, and the sacrifices slain, he sells all the flesh, save what is used in holy rites: and he hires such as are to wait and attend upon the marriage only for that time, which shall diet them selves and eat their own meat. The captain of the galley which himself set forth, he lays old planks under his cabin to spare his own. Coming out of the marketplace, he puts the flesh he bought in his bosom: and upon any occasion, is forced to keep in, till his clothes be made clean. In the Morning, as soon as he rises, he sweeps the house, and fumigates the beds himself, and turns the wrong side of his wild cloak outwards.

 

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XXIII. Of Ostentation

 

Ostentation may be said to be, a vaunting or setting out of some good things which are not present. A vaunter or forth-putter is he, that boasts upon the exchange that he has stores of money in the bank: and this he tells to strangers; and is not daunted to discover all his usuring trade, showing how high he is grown in gain. As he travels, if he get a companion, he will tell you he served under Alexander in that noble expedition; and what a number of jeweled drinking pots he brought away. He will maintain, though others dissent, that the artificers of Asia, are better than these of Europe: then, that arts and letters came from Antipater; who (they say) ran into Macedonia, scantly accompanied with two more. He, when there was granted a free exportation, when the courtesy was offered him, refused it, because he would shun all manner of obloquy. The same man in the dearth of corn, gave more than five talents to the poor. But if he sit by those which know him not, he entreats them to cast account and reckon the number of those to whom he has given: the which if they fall out to be six hundred, his account doubled, and their names being added to every one, it will easily be effected; so that anon ten talents will be gathered, the which he affirms that he gave to the relief of the poor: And yet in this account, I reckon not the Gallies that I did command my self; and the other services which I undertook for the good of the Common-wealth. The same man coming to those which sell barbs, jennets and other horses of price he bears them in hand he would buy them in the Fair at Tentoria. Of those which expose their wares to sale, he calls to see a garment of two talents price, and chides his boy extremely, that he dare follow him without gold. Lastly, dwelling in an hired house, if he have speech with any that knows it not, he will tell him the house was his father's; but because it is not of receipt for his train, and entertainment of his friends, he has an intention to make it away.

 

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XXIV. Of Pride

 

Pride, is a contempt of all others save it self. A proud man is of this quality: If any man desire to speak with him speedily he will tell him that he will, after supper, walk a turn or two with him. If any man be obliged unto him, he will command him to remember the favor; nay, he will urge him to it. He will never come unto any man first. They that buy any thing, or hire any thing of him, he disdains not to admit them come as early as they list. As he walks bending down his head, speaks to no man that he meets. If he invites any friends, he sups not with them him self; but commits the care of their entertainment unto some one that is at his devotion. When he goes to visit any man, he sends his harbinger before, to signify his approach. When he is to be anointed, or when he feeds, he admits none to his presence. If he clear an account with any, he commands his boy to cast away the accountants: and when he casts up the sum, makes the reckoning (as it were) to another. In his letters he never writes, you shall oblige me, but this I would have done: I have sent one to you that shall receive it. See it be not otherwise, and that speedily.

 

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XXV. Of Timidity, or Fearfulness

 

Fearfulness may seem to be a timorous distrustful dejection of the mind. A fearful man is of this fashion: if he be at sea, he fears the promontories to be the enemies navy: and at every cross gale or billow, asks if the sailors be expert; whether there be not some novices amongst them, or no. When the pilot gives the ship but a little clout, he asks if the ship holds a middle course. He knows not well whether he should fear or hope. He tells him that sits next him, how he was terrified with a dream not long since: Then he puts off his shirt, and gives it the boy: entreats the Sailors to set him on shore. Being in service at land, he calls his fellow soldiers unto him: and looking earnestly upon them, says; 'Tis hard to know whether you be enemies, or no. Hearing a bustling, and seeing some fall, he tells them, that for pure hast he had forgotten his two-hand sword: and so soon as by running he has recovered his tent, he sends the boy to scout warily where the enemy is: then hides he his long sword under his pillow: then he spends much time in seeking of it. And if by chance he see any wounded brought over toward the tent, he runs to him, encourages him, bids him take a man's heart, and be resolute. He's very tender over him, and wipes away the corruption of his wound with a sponge: he drives away the flies. He had rather do any work about the house than fight: He cares not how little blood he looses himself: His two-held sword is his best weapon: when the Trumpet sounds a charge, sitting in his tent: a mischief on him (says he) he disquiets the poor wounded man, he can take no rest for him. He loves the blood and glory of another mans wound. He will brag when he comes out of the field, how many friends he brought off with the hazard of his own life. He brings to the hurt man, many of the same band, to visit him: and tells them all, that he with his own hand brought him into his tent.

 

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XXVI. Of an Oligarchy, or The Manners of the principal Sort, which sway in a State.

 

An Oligarchy, may seem to be a vehement desire of honor, without desire of gain. Oligarchs, or principal men in a State, have these conditions. When the people consult, whosoever the Magistrate should have any associate added unto him in the setting out of their show and pomp, he steps forth uncalled for, and pronounces himself worthy of that honor. He has learned this only verse of Homer,

 

Non multos regnare bonum est,

rex unicus esto.

 

The State is at an evil stay,

Where more than one the Scepter sway.

 

These sayings are frequent with them. 'Tis fit that we assemble our selves together, deliberate and determine finally: That we free our selves of the multitude: That we intercept their claim of any place of magistracy or government. If any do them affront or injury, he and I (say they) are not compatible in this city. About noon they go abroad, their beards and hair cut of a middling size, their nails curiously pared, strutting it in the law-house, saying; there is no dwelling in this City: that they are too much pestered and importuned with multitudes of suitors and causes; that they are very much ashamed, when they see any man in the assembly beggarly, or slovenly; and that all the orators are an odious profession; and that Theseus was the first, which brought this contagion into cities and common-wealths. The like speeches they have with strangers, and such citizens as are of their own faction.

 

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XXVII. Of Late-learning

 

Late, or unseasonable learning, is a desire of getting better furniture and abilities in the going down of our strength, and the declining of our age. Of those men this is their manner. When such men are three-score years of age, they learn verses out of poets by heart: and these they begin to sing in their cups and collations. No sooner they have begun, but they forget the rest. Such an one learns of his son, how in service they turn to the right hand and the left. When he goes into the Country, riding upon a borrowed horse, practicing how to salute those he meets, without a lighting, falling all-to-bemoils him self. He does practice at the Quintin. He will learn of one, and teach him again, as if his master were unskillful. He likewise wrestling and bathing, does manage his blind cheeks very wildly.

 

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XXVIII. Of Detraction, or Back-biting

 

Detraction is a proneness or swerving of the mind into the worst part in our speech and discourse. A detractor is thus conditioned: If he be questioned what such an one is, as if he should play the Herald, and set down his pedigree, he begins with the first of his Family. This mans father, says he, was first called Socias. After he followed the wars, they called him Sosistratus: then from one of the many he was made an officer (forsooth). His mother was noble of Tressa: the which sort of women, say they, are noble when they are at home. And this fellow, for all his pretended gentry, is a very lewd knave. He proceeds and tells you,that these are the women which entice men out of their way: he joins with others which traduce the absent, and says, I hate the man you blame exceedingly. If you note his face, it discovers a lewd fellow very worthy of hatred. If you look to his villainies, nothing more flagitious. He gives his wife three farthing tokens to go to market with. In the months of January when the colds are greatest, he compels her to wash. His manner is, sitting amongst much company, to rise up and snarl at any; not to spare those that are at rest, and cannot reply.

 

Finis.

 

The copyright of the original text has expired and may be reproduced without restriction; in its present form it has undergone some editing and therefore the source should be acknowledged if my reformatted text is made available at another url. I have chosen Joseph Healey’s translation not because it gives us the most faithful Greek, but because it is the better English - most of the time.

 

© - 12/1/2008 - edited by michael sympson, 21,100 words, all rights reserved

 

 

 

 

appendix: a version closer to the original Greek, translated by R.C. Jebb, 1870.

 

Healey has introduced Theophrast as the friendly neighbor next door who has stopped raking the leaves for a spot of gossip across the fence. Jebb’s translation gives more of the original flavor and the actual values of Hellenistic culture. The difference becomes apparent from the tone of disdain in which Theophrast is depicting characters like the “reckless.” In this day and age we wouldn’t call such person “reckless” but “thrifty;” most of our self-made millionaires are cut from this cloth. It’s a shift in the moral paradigm.

 

michael sympson

 

 

 
Proem
 

[Often before now have I applied my thoughts to the puzzling question - one, probably, which will puzzle me for ever - why it is that, while all Greece lies under the same sky and all the Greeks are educated alike, it has befallen us to have characters so variously constituted. For a long time, Polycles, I have been a student of human nature; I have lived ninety years and nine; I have associated, too, with many and diverse natures; and, having observed side by side, with great closeness, both the good and the worthless among men, I conceived that I ought to write a book about the practices in life of either sort.
   
    I will describe to you, class by class, the several kinds of conduct which characterize them and the mode in which they administer their affairs; for I conceive, Polycles, that our sons will be the better if such memorials are bequeathed to them, using which as examples they shall choose to live and consort with men of the fairest lives, in order that they may not fall short of them.
   
    And now I will turn to my narrative; be it your part to come along with it and to see if I speak rightly. In the first place, then, I will commence my account with those who have studied Irony, dispensing with preface or many words about the matter. I will begin with Irony and define it; next I will set forth, in like manner, the nature of the Ironical man, and of the character into which he has drifted; and then I will try, as I proposed, to make the other affections of the mind plain, each after its kind.]

 

 

I. The Ironical Man

 

Irony, roughly defined, would seem to be an affectation of the worse in word or deed.

 

The Ironical Man is one who goes up to his enemies, and volunteers to chat with them, instead of showing hatred. He will praise to their faces those whom he attacked behind their backs, and will sympathize with them in their defeats. He will show forgiveness to his revilers, and excuse things said against him; and he will talk blandly to persons who are smarting under a wrong. When people wish to seem him in a hurry, he will desire them to call again. He will never confess to anything that he is doing, but will always just say that he is thinking about it. He will pretend that he has ‘just arrived,’ or that he ‘was too late,’ or that he ‘was unwell.’ To applicants for a loan or a subscription he will say that he has no money; when he has anything for sale, he will deny that he means to sell; or, when he does not mean to sell, he will pretend that he does. Hearing, he will affect not to have heard, seeing, not to have seen; if he has made an admission, he will say that he does not remember it. Sometimes he has ‘been considering the question’; sometimes he does ‘not know’; sometimes he is ‘surprised’; sometimes it is ‘the very conclusion’ at which he ‘once arrived’ himself. And, in general, he is very apt to use this kind of phrase: ‘I do not believe it’; ‘I do not understand it’; ‘I am astonished.’ Or he will say that he has heard it from some one else: ‘This, however, was not the story that he told me.’ ‘The thing surprises me’; ‘Don’t tell me’; ‘I do not know how I am to disbelieve you, or to condemn him’; ‘Take care that you are not too credulous.’

 

    [Such the speeches, such the doublings and retractions to which the Ironical man will resort. Disingenuous and designing characters are in truth to be shunned more carefully than vipers.]

 

 

II. The Flatterer

 

Flattery may be considered as a mode of companionship degrading but profitable to him who flatters.

 

The Flatterer is a person who will say as he walks with another, ‘Do you observe how people are looking at you? This happens to no man in Athens but you. A compliment was paid to you yesterday at the Stoa. More than thirty persons were sitting there; the question was started, Who is our foremost man? Everyone mentioned you first, and ended by coming back to your name.’ With these and the like words, he will remove a morsel of wool from his patron’s coat; or, if a speck of chaff has been laid on the other’s hair by the wind, he will pick it off; adding with a laugh, ‘Do you see? Because I have not met you for two days, you have had your beard full of white hairs; although no one has darker hair for his years than you.’ Then he will request the company to be silent while the great man is speaking, and will praise him, too, in his hearing, and mark his approbation at a pause with ‘True’; or he will laugh at a frigid joke, and stuff his cloak into his mouth as if he could not repress his amusement. He will request those whom he meets to stand still until ‘his Honour’ has passed. He will buy apples and pears, and bring them in and give them to the children in the father’s presence; adding, with kisses, ‘Chicks of a good father.’ Also, when he assists at the purchase of slippers, he will declare that the foot is more shapely than the shoe. If his patron is approaching a friend, he will run forward and say, ‘He is coming to you’; and then, turning back, ‘I have announced you.’ He is just the person, too, who can run errands to the women’s market without drawing breath. He is the first of the guests to praise the wine; and to say, as he reclines next the host, ‘How delicate is your fare!’ and (taking up somsing from the table) ‘Now this - how excellent it is!’ He will ask his friend if he is cold, and if he would like somsing more; and, before the words are spoken, will wrap him up. Moreover he will lean towards his ear and whisper with him; or will glance at him as he talks to the rest of the company. He will take the cushions from the slave in the theatre, and spread them on the seat with his own hands. He will say that his patron’s house is well built, that his land is well planted, and that his portrait is like.

 

    [In short the Flatterer may be observed saying and doing all things by which he conceives that he will gain favor.]

 

 

III. The Garrulous Man

 

Garrulity is the discoursing of much and ill-considered talk.

 

The Garrulous Man is one who will sit down beside a person whom he does not know, and first pronounce a panegyric on his own wife; then relate his dream of last night; then go through in detail what he has had for dinner. Then, warming to the work, he will remark that the men of the present day are greatly inferior to the ancients; and how cheap wheat has become in the market; and what a number of foreigners are in town; and that the sea is navigable after the Dionysia; and that, if Zeus would send more rain, the crops would be better; and that he will work his land next year; and how hard it is to live; and that Damippus set up a very large torch at the Mysteries; and ‘How many columns has the Odeon?’ and that yesterday he was unwell; and ‘What is the day of the month?’; and that the Mysteries are in Boëdromion, the Apaturia in Pyanepsion, the rural Dionysia in Poseideon. Nor, if he is tolerated, will he ever desist.

 

    [He who would not have a fever must shake off such persons, and thrust them aside, and make his escape. It is hard to bear with those who cannot discern between the time to trifle and the time to work.]

 

 

IV. The Boor

 

Boorishness would seem to be ignorance offending against propriety.

 

The Boor is one who, having drunk a posset, will go into the Ecclesia. He vows that thyme smells sweeter than any perfume; he wears his shoes too large for his feet; he talks in a loud voice. He distrusts his friends and relatives, but talks confidentially to his own servants on the most important matters; and recounts all the news from the Ecclesia to the hired labourers working on his land. Wearing a cloak which does not reach the knee, he will sit down. He shows surprise and wonder at nothing else, but will stand still and gaze when he sees an ox or an ass or a goat in the streets. He is apt also to take things out of the store-room and eat them; and to drink his wine rather strong. He will help the bakery-maid to grind the corn for the use of the household and for his own; he will eat his breakfast while he shakes down hay for his beasts of burden; he will answer a knock at the door himself, and call the dog to him, and take hold of his nose, saying ‘This fellow looks after the place and the house.’ When he is given a piece of money, he will reject it, saying that it is too smooth, and thereupon will take another instead; and, if he has lent his plough, or a basket or sickle or bag, and remembers it as he lies awake, he will ask it back in the middle of the night. On his way down to Athens he will ask the first man that he meets how hides and salt-fish were selling, and whser the archon celebrates the New Moon to-day; adding immediately that he means to have his hair cut when he gets to town, and at the same visit to bring some salt-fish from Archias as he goes by. He will also sing at the bath; and will drive nails into his shoes.

 

 

V. The Complaisant Man

 

Complaisance may be defined as a mode of address calculated to give pleasure, but not with the best tendency.

 

The Complaisant man is very much the kind of person who will hail one afar off with ‘my dear fellow’; and, after a large display of respect, seize and hold one by both hands. He will attend you a little way, and ask when he is to see you, and will take his leave with a compliment upon his lips. Also, when he is called in to an arbitration, he will seek to please, not only his principal, but the adversary as well, in order that he may be deemed impartial. He will say, too, that foreigners peak more justly than his fellow-citizens. Then, when he is asked to dinner, he will request the host to send for the children; and will say of them, when they come in, that they are as like their father as figs; and will draw them towards him, and kiss them, and establish them at his side, - playing with some of them, and himself saying ‘Wineskin,’ and ‘Hatchet,’ and permitting others to got to sleep upon him, to his anguish.

 

 
VI. The Reckless Man

 
Recklessness is tolerance of shame in word and deed.
 

The Reckless man is one who will lightly take an oath, being proof against abuse, and capable of giving it; in character a coarse fellow, defiant of decency, ready to do anything; just the person to dance the cordax, sober and without a mask, in a comic chorus. At a conjuror’s performance, too, he will collect the copper coins, going along from man to man, and wrangling with those who have the free-pass, and claim to see the show for nothing. He is apt, also, to become an inn-keeper or a tax-farmer; he will decline no sort of disreputable trade, a crier’s, a cook’s; he will gamble, and neglect to maintain his mother; he will be arrested for theft, and spend more time in prison than in his own house.
   
    And he would seem, too, to be one of these persons who collect and call crowds about them, ranting in a loud cracked voice and haranguing them; meanwhile some will approach, and others go away without hearing him out; but to some he gives the first chapter of his story, to others and epitome, to others a fragment; and the time which he chooses for parading his recklessness is always when there is some public gathering. Great is he, too, in lawsuits, now as defendant, now as prosecutor; sometimes excusing himself on oath, sometimes attending the court with a box of papers in the breast of his cloak and satchels of note-books in his hands. He will not disdain either to be a captain of market-place hucksters, but will readily lend them money, exacting, as interest upon a drachma, three obols a day; and will make the round of the cook-shops, the fishmongers, the fish-picklers, thrusting into his check the interest which he levies on their gains.

 

    [These are troublesome persons, for their tongues are easily set wagging abusively; and they talk in so loud a voice that the market-place and the workshops resound with them.]

 

 

VII. The Chatty Man

 

Chattiness, if one should wish to define it, would seem to be an incontinence of talk.

 

The Chatty Man is one who will say to those whom he meets, if they speak a word to him, that they are quite wrong, and that he knows all about it, and that, if they listen to him, they will learn; then, while one is answering him, he will put in, ‘Do you tell me so? - don’t forget what you are going to say’; or ‘Thanks for reminding me’; or ‘How much one gets from a little talk, to be sure!’ or ‘By-the-bye’ - ; or ‘Yes! you have seen it in a moment’; or ‘I have been watching you all along to see if you would come to the same conclusion as I did’; and other such cues will he make for himself, so that his victim has not even breathing-time. Aye, and when he has prostrated a few lonely stragglers, he is apt to march next upon large, compact bodies, and to rout them in the midst of their occupations. Indeed, he will go into the schools and the palaestras, and hinder the boys from getting on with their lessons, by chattering at this rate to their trainers and masters. When people say that they are going, he loves to escort them, and to seem them safe into their houses. On learning the news from the Ecclesia, he hastens to report it; and to relate, in addition, the old story of the battle in Aristophon [the orator]’s year, and of the Lacedaemonian victory in Lysander’s time; also of the speech for which he himself once got glory in the Assembly; and he will throw in some abuse of ‘the masses,’ too, in the course of his narrative; so that the hearers will either forget what it was about, or fall into a doze, or desert him in the middle and make their escape. Then, on a jury, he will hinder his fellows from coming to a verdict, at a theatre from seeing the play, at a dinner-party, from eating; saying that ‘it is hard for a chatterer to be silent,’ and that his tongue will run, and that he could not hold it, though he should be thought a greater chatterer than a swallow. Nay, he will endure to be the butt of his own children, when, drowsy at last, they make their request to him in these terms - ‘Papa, chatter to us, that we may fall asleep!’

 

 

VIII. The Gossip

 

Gossip is the framing of fictitious saying and doings at the pleasure of him who gossips.

 

The Gossip is a person who, when he meets his friend, will assume a demure air, and ask with a smile - ‘Where are you from, and what are your tidings? What news have you to give me about this affair?’ And then he will reiterate the question - ‘Is anything fresh rumored? Well certainly these are glorious tidings!’ Then, without allowing the other to answer, he will go on - ‘What say you? You have heard nothing? I flatter myself that I can treat you to some news’; and he has a soldier, or a slave of Asteius the fluteplayer, or Lycon the contractor, just arrived from the field of battle, from whom he says that he has heard of it. In fact the authorities for his statements are always such that no one can possibly lay hold upon them. Quoting these, he relates how Polyperchon and the king have won the battle, and Cassander has been taken alive; and, if anyone says to him, ‘But do you believe this?’ - ‘Why,’ he will answer, ‘the town rings with it! The report grows firmer and firmer - everyone is agreed - they all give the same account of the battle’; adding that the hash has been dreadful; and that he can tell it, too, from the faces of Government - he observes that they have all changed countenance. He speaks also of having heard privately that the authorities have a man hid in a house who came just five days ago from Macedonia, and who knows it all. And in narrating all this - only think! - he will be plausibly pathetic, saying ‘Unlucky Cassander! Poor fellow! Do you see what fortune is? Well, well, he was a strong man once…’: adding ‘No one but you must know this’ - when he has run up to everybody in town with the news.

 

    [It is a standing puzzle to me what object these men can have in their inventions; for, besides telling falsehoods, they incur positive loss. Often have cloaks been lost by those of them who draw groups round them at the baths; often has judgment gone by default against those who were winning battles or seafights in the Stoa; and some there are who, while mounting the imaginary breach, have missed their dinner. Their manner of life is indeed most miserable. What porch is there, what workshop, what part of the market-place which they do not haunt all day long, exhausting the patience of their hearers in this way, and wearying them to death with their fictions?]

 

 

IX. The Shameless Man

 

Shamelessness may be defined as neglect of reputation for the sake of base gain.

 

The Shameless man is one who, in the first place, will and borrow from the creditor whose money he is withholding. Then, when he has been sacrificing to the gods, he will put away the salted remains, and will himself dine out; and, calling up his attendant, will give him bread and meat taken from the table, saying in the hearing of all, ‘Feast, most worshipful.’ In marketing, again, he will remind the butcher of any service which he may have rendered him; and, standing near the scales, will throw in some meat, if he can, or else a bone for his soup; if he gets it, it is well; if not, he will snatch up a piece of tripe from the counter, and go off laughing. Again, when he has taken places at the theatre for his foreign visitors, he will see the performance without paying his own share; and will bring his sons, too, and their attendants the next day. When anyone secures a good bargain, he will ask to be given part in it. He will go to another man’s house and borrow barley, or sometimes bran; and moreover will insist upon the lenders delivering it at his door. He is apt, also, to go up to the coppers in the baths, - to plunge the ladle in, amid the cries of the bath-man, - and to souse himself; saying that he has had his bath, and then, as he departs, - ‘No thanks to you!’

 

 

X. The Penurious Man

 

Penuriousness is too strict attention to profit and loss.

 

The Penurious man is one who, while the month is current, will come to one’s house and ask for a half-obol. When he is at table with others, he will count how many cups each of them has drunk; and will pour a smaller libation to Artemis than any of the company. Whenever a person has made a good bargain for him and charges him with it, he will say that it is too dear. When a servant has broken a jug or a plate, he will take the value out of his rations; or, if his wife has dropped a triple-copper coin, he is capable of moving the furniture and the sofas and the wardrobes, and of rummaging in the curtains. If he has anything to sell, he will dispose of it at such a price that the buyer shall have no profit. He is not likely to let one eat a fig from his garden, or walk through his land, or pick up one of the olives or dates that lie on the ground; and he will inspect his boundaries day by day to see if they remain the same. He is apt, also, to enforce the right of distraining, and to exact compound interest. When he feasts the men of his deme, the cutlets set before them will be small; when he markets, he will come in having bought nothing. And he will forbid his wife to lend salt, or a lamp-wick, or cumin, or verjuice, or meal for sacrifice, or garlands, or cakes; saying that these trifles come to much in the year. Then, in general, it may be noticed that the money-boxes of the penurious are mouldy, and the keys rusty; that they themselves wear their cloaks scarcely reaching to the thigh; that they anoint themselves with very small oil-flasks; that they have their hair cut close; that they take off their shoes in the middle of the day; and that they are urgent with the fuller to let their cloak have plenty of earth, in order that it may not soon be soiled.

 

 

XI. The Gross Man

 

Grossness is not difficult to define; it is obtrusive and objectionable pleasantry.

 

The Gross man is one who will insult freeborn women; who, in a theatre, will applaud when others cease, and hiss the actors who please the rest of the spectators. When the market-place is full, he will go up to the place where nuts or myrtleberries or fruits are sold, and stand munching while he chatters to the seller. Then he will call by name to a passer-by with whom he is not familiar; or, if he chance to see persons in a hurry, he will cry ‘stop’ or he will go up to a man who has lost a great lawsuit and is leaving the court, and will congratulate him. He will do his own marketing, and hire flute-players; moreover, he will show to everyone who meets him the provisions that he has bought, with an invitation to come and eat them; and will explain, as he stands at the door of a barber’s or perfumer’s shop, that he means to get drunk. His mother having gone out to the soothsayer’s, he will use words of evil omen; or, when people are praying and pouring libations, he will drop his cup, and laugh as if he had done somsing clever. Also, when the flute is being played to him, he alone of all the company will beat time with his hands, and trill an accompaniment; and will reprove the player, asking why she did not stop sooner. And, when he desires to spit, he will spit across the table at the cup-bearer.

 

 

 XII. The Unseasonable Man

 

Unseasonableness consists in a chance meeting disagreeable to those who meet.

 

The Unseasonable man is one who will go up to a busy person, and open his heart to him. He will serenade his mistress when she has a fever. He will address himself to a man who has been cast in a surety-suit, and request him to become his security. He will come to give evidence when the trial is over. When he is asked to a wedding, he will inveigh against womankind. He will propose a walk to those who have just come off a long journey. He has a knack, also, of bringing a higher bidder to him who has already found his market. He loves to rise and go through a long story to those who have heard it and know it by heart; he is zealous, too, in charging himself with offices which one would rather not have done, but is ashamed to decline. When people are sacrificing and incurring expense, he will come to demand his interest. If he is present at the flogging of a slave, he will relate how a slave of his own was once beaten in the same way - and hanged himself; or, assisting at an arbitration, he will persist in embroiling the parties when they both wish to be reconciled. And, when he is minded to dance, he will seize upon another person who is not yet drunk.

 

 

XIII. The Officious Man

 

Officiousness would seem to be, in fact, a well-meaning presumption in word or deed.

 

The Officious man is one who will rise and promise things beyond his power; and who, when an arrangement is admitted to be just, will oppose it, and be refuted. He will insist, too, on the slave mixing more wine than the company can finish; he will separate combatants, even those whom he does not know; he will undertake to show the path, and after all be unable to find his way. Also he will go up to his commanding officer, and ask when he means to give battle, and what is to be his order for the day after tomorrow. When the doctor forbids him to give wine to an invalid, he will say that he wishes to try an experiment, and will drench the sick man. Also he will inscribe upon a deceased woman’s tombstone the name of her husband, of her father, and of her mother, as well as her own, with the place of her birth; recording further that ‘All these were Estimable Persons.’ And when he is about to take an oath he will say to the bystanders, ‘This is by no means the first that I have undertaken.’

 

 

XIV. The Stupid Man

 

Stupidity may be defined as mental slowness in speech and action.

 

The Stupid man is one who, after doing a sum and setting down the total, will ask the person sitting next to him ‘What does it come to?’ When he is defendant in an action, and it is about to come on, he will forget it and go into the country; when he is a spectator in the theatre, he will be left behind slumbering in solitude. If he has been given anything, and has put it away himself, he will look for it and be unable to find it. When the death of a friend is announced to him, in order that he may come to the house, his face will grow dark - tears will come into his eyes - and he will say ‘Heaven be praised!’ He is apt, too, when he receives payment for a debt, to call witnesses; and in winter-time to quarrel with his slave for not having bought cucumbers; and to make his children wrestle and run races until he has exhausted them. If he is cooking a leek himself in the country, he will put salt into the pot twice, and make it uneatable. When it is raining, he will observe ‘Well, the smell from the sky is delicious’ (when others of course say ‘from the earth’); or, if he is asked ‘How many corpses do you suppose have been carried out at the Sacred Gate?’ he will reply, ‘I only wish that you or I had as many.’

 

 

XV. The Surly Man

 

Surliness is discourtesy in words.

 

The Surly man is one who, when asked where so-and-so is, will say, ‘Don’t bother me’; or, when spoken to, will not reply. If he has anything for sale, instead of informing the buyers at what price he is prepared to sell it, he will ask them what he is to get for it. Those who send him presents with their compliments at feast-tide are told that he ‘will not touch’ their offerings. He cannot forgive a person who has besmirched him by accident, or pushed him, or trodden upon his foot. Then, if a friend asks him for a subscription, he will say that he cannot give one; but will come with it by and by, and remark that he is losing this money also. When he stumbles in the street he is apt to swear at the stone. He will not endure to wait long for anyone; nor will he consent to sing, or to recite, or to dance. He is apt also not to pray to the gods.

 

 

XVI. The Superstitious Man

 

Superstition would seem to be simply cowardice in regard to the supernatural.

 

The Superstitious man is one who will wash his hands at a fountain, sprinkle himself from a temple-font, put a bit of laurel-leaf into his mouth, and so go about the day. If a weasel run across his path, he will not pursue his walk until someone else has traversed the road, or until he has thrown three stones across it. When he sees a serpent in his house, if it be the red snake, he will invoke Sabazius, - if the sacred snake, he will straightway place a shrine on the spot. He will pour oil from his flask on the smooth stones at the cross-roads, as he goes by, and will fall on his knees and worship them before he departs. If a mouse gnaws through a meal-bag, he will go to the expounder of sacred law and ask what is to be done; and, if the answer is, ‘give it to a cobbler to stitch up,’ he will disregard the counsel, and go his way, and expiate the omen by sacrifice. He is apt, also, to purify his house frequently, alleging that Hecate has been brought into it by spells; and, if an owl is startled by him in his walk, he will exclaim ‘Glory be to Athene!’ before he proceeds. He will not tread upon a tombstone, or come near a dead body or a woman defiled by childbirth, saying that it is expedient for him not to be polluted. Also on the fourth and seventh days of each month he will order his servants to mull wine, and go out and buy myrtle-wreaths, frankincense, and smilax; and, on coming in, will spend the day in crowning the Hermaphrodites. When he has seen a vision, he will go to the interpreters of dreams, the seers, the augurs, to ask them to what god or goddess he ought to pray. Every month he will repair to the priests of the Orphic Mysteries, to partake in their rites, accompanied by his wife, or (if she is too busy) by his children and their nurse. He would seem, too, to be of those who are scrupulous in sprinkling themselves with sea-water; and, if ever he observes anyone feasting on the garlic at the cross-roads, he will go away, pour water over his head, and, summoning the priestesses, bid them carry a squill or a puppy around him for purification. And, if he sees a maniac or an epileptic man, he will shudder and spit into his bosom.

 

 

XVII. The Grumbler

 

Grumbling is undue censure of one’s portion.

 

The Grumbler is one who, when his friend has sent him a present from his table, will say to the bearer, ‘You grudged me my soup and my poor wine, or you would have asked me to dinner.’ He will annoyed with Zeus, not for not raining, but for raining too late; and, if he finds a purse on the road, ‘Ah,’ he will say, ‘but I have never found a treasure!’ When he has bought a slave cheap after much coaxing of the seller, ‘It is strange,’ he will remark, ‘if I have got a sound lot such a bargain.’ To one who brings him good news, ‘A son is born to you,’ he will reply, ‘If you add that I have lost half my property, you will speak the truth.’ When he has won a lawsuit by a unanimous verdict, he will find fault with the composer of his speech for having left out several points in his case. If a subscription has been raised for him by his friends, and someone says to him ‘Cher up!’ - ‘Cher up?’ he will answer; ‘when I have to refund his money to every man, and to be grateful besides, as if I had been done a service!’

 

 

XVIII. The Distrustful Man

 

Distrustfulness is a presumption that all men are unjust.

 

The Distrustful man is one who, having sent his slave to market, will send another to ascertain what price he gave. He will carry his money himself, and sit down every two-hundred yards to count it. He will ask his wife in bed if she has locked the wardrobe, and if the cupboard has been sealed, and the bolt put upon the hall-door; and, if the reply is ‘Yes,’ not the less will he forsake the blankets, and light the lamp and run about shirtless and shoeless to inspect all these matters, and barely thus find sleep. He will demand his interest from his creditors in the presence of witnesses, to prevent the possibility of their repudiating the debt. He is apt also to send his cloak to be cleaned, not to the best workman, but wherever he finds sterling security for the fuller. When anyone comes to ask the loan of cups, he will, if possible, refuse; but, if perchance it is an intimate friend or relation, he will almost assay the cups in the fire, and weigh them, and do everything but take security, before he lends them. Also he will order his slave, when he attends him, to walk in front and not behind, as a precaution against his running away in the street. To persons who have bought somsing of him and say, ‘How much is it? Enter it in your books, for I am too busy to send the money yet,’ - he will reply: ‘Do not trouble yourself; if you are not at leisure, I will accompany you.’

 

 

XIX. The Offensive Man

 

Offensiveness is distressing neglect of person.

 

The Offensive man is one who will go about with a scrofulous or leprous affection, or with his nails overgrown, and say that these are hereditary complaints with him; his father had them, and his grandfather, and it is not easy to be smuggled into his family … He will use rancid oil to anoint himself at the bath; and will go forth into the market-place wearing a thick tunic, and a very light cloak, covered with stains.

 

 

XX. The Unpleasant Man

 

Unpleasantness may be defined as a mode of address which gives harmless annoyance.

 

The Unpleasant man is one who will come in an awake a person who has just gone to sleep, in order to chat with him. He will detain people who are on the very point of sailing; indeed he will go up to them and request them to wait until he has taken a stroll. He will take his child from the nurse, and feed it from his own mouth, and chirp endearments to it, calling it ‘papa’s little rascal.’ He is apt, also, to ask before his relations, ‘Tell me, Mommy, - when you were bringing me into the world, how went the time?’ He will say that he has cool cistern-water at his house, and a garden with many fine vegetables, and a cook who understands dressed dishes. His house, he will say, is a perfect inn - always crammed; and his friends are like the pierced cask - he can never fill them with his benefits. Also, when he entertains, he will show off the qualities of his parasite to his guest; and will say, too, in an encouraging tone over the wine, that the amusement of the company has been provided for.

 

 

XXI. The Man of Petty Ambition

 

Petty ambition would seem to be a mean craving for distinction.

 

The man of Petty Ambition is one who, when asked to dinner, will be anxious to be placed next to the host at table. He will take his son away to Delphi to have his hair cut. He will be careful, too, that his attendant shall be an Asiopian: and, when he pays a mina, he will case the slave to pay the sum in new coin. Also he will have his hair cut very frequently, and will keep his tes white; he will change his clothes, too, while still good; and will anoint himself with unguent. In the marketplace he will frequent the bankers’ tables; in the gymnasia he will haunt those places where the young men take exercise; in the theatre, when there is a representation, he will sit near the Generals.

 

    For himself he will buy nothing, but will make purchases on commission for foreign friends - pickled olives to go to Byzantium, Laconian hounds for Cyzicus, Hymettian honey for Rhodes; and will talk thereof to people at Athens. Also he is very much the person to keep a monkey; to get a satyr ape, Sicilian doves, deerhorn dice, Thurian vases of the approved rotundity, walking-sticks with the true Laconian curve, and a curtain with Persians embroidered upon it. He will have a little court provided with an arena for wrestling and a ball-alley, and will go about lending it to philosophers, sophists, drill-sergeants, musicians, for their displays; at which he himself will appear upon the scene rather late, in order that the spectators might say one to another, ‘This is the owner of the palaestra.’

 

    When he has sacrificed an ox, he will nail up the skin of the forehead, wreathed with large garlands, opposite the entrance, in order that those who come in may see that he has sacrificed an ox. When he has been taking part in a procession of the knights, he will give the rest of his accoutrements to his slave to carry home; but, after putting on his cloak, will walk about the market-place in his spurs. He is apt, also, to buy a little ladder for his domestic jackdaw, and to make a little brass shield, wherewith the jackdaw shall hop upon the ladder. Or if his little Melitean dog has died, he will put up a little memorial slab, with the inscription, a scion of Melita. If he has dedicated a brass ring in the temple of Asclepius, he will wear it to a wire with daily burnishings and oilings. It is just like him, too, to obtain from the prytaneis by private arrangement the privilege of reporting the sacrifice to the people; when, having provided himself with a smart white cloak and put on a wreath, he will come forward and say: ‘Athenians! we, the prytaneis, have been sacrificing to the Mother of the Gods meetly and auspiciously; receive ye her good gifts!’ Having made this announcement he will go home to his wife and declare that he is supremely fortunate.

 

 

XXII. The Mean Man

 

Meanness is an excessive indifference to honour where expense is concerned.

 

The Mean man is one who, when he has gained the prize in a tragic contest, will dedicate a wooden scroll to Dionysus, having had it inscribed with his own name. When subscriptions for the treasury are being made, he will rise in silence from his place in the Ecclesia, and go out from the midst. When he is celebrating his daughter’s marriage, he will sell the flesh of the animal sacrificed, except the parts due to the priest; and will hire the attendants at the marriage festival on condition that they attend their own board. When he is trierarch, he will spread the steersman’s rugs under him on the deck, and put his own away. He is apt, also, not to send his children to school when there is a festival of the Muses, but say that they are unwell, in order that they may not contribute. Again, when he has bought provisions, he will himself carry the meat and the vegetables from the market-place in the bosom of his cloak. When he has sent his cloak to be scoured, he will keep the house. If a friend is raising a subscription, and has spoken to him about it, he will turn out of the street when he descries him approaching, and will go home by a roundabout way. Then, he will not buy a maid for his wife, though she brought him a dower; but will hire from the women’s market the girl who is to attend her on the occasions she goes out. He will wear his shoes patched with cobbler’s work, and say that it is as strong as horn. He will sweep out his house when he gets up, and polish the sofas; and, in sitting down, he will twist aside the coarse cloak which he wears himself.

 

 

XXIII. The Boastful Man

 

Boastfulness would seem to be, in fact, pretension to advantages which one does not possess.

 

The Boastful Man is one who will stand in the bazaar talking to foreigners of the great sums which he has at sea; he will discourse of the vastness of his money-lending business, and the extent of his personal gains and losses; and, while thus drawing the long-bow, will send of his boy to the bank, where he keeps - a drachma. He loves, also, to impose upon his companion by the road with a story of how he served with Alexander, and on what terms he was with him, and what a number of gemmed cups he brought home; contending, too, that the Asiatic artists are superior to those of Europe; and all this when he has never been out of Attica. Then he will say that a letter has come from Antipater - ‘this is the third’ - requiring his presence in Macedonia; and that, though he was offered the privilege of exporting timber free of duty, he has declined it, that no person whatever may be able to traduce him further for being more friendly than is becoming with Macedonia. He will state, too, that in the famine his outlay came to more than five talents in presents to the distressed citizens: (‘he never could say No’;) and actually, although the persons sitting near him are strangers, he will request one of them to set up the counters; when, reckoning by sums of six hundred drachmas or of a mina, and plausibly assigning names to each of these, he will make a total of as many as ten talents. This, he will say, was what he contributed in the way of charities; adding that he does not count any of the trierarchies or public services which he has performed. Also he will go up to the sellers of the best horses, and pretend that he desires to buy; or, visiting the upholstery mart, he will ask to see draperies to the value of two talents, and quarrel with his slave for having come out without gold. When he is living in a hired house he will say (to any one who does not know better) that it is the family mansion; but that he means to sell it, as he finds it too small for his entertainments.

 

 

XXIV. The Arrogant Man

 

Arrogance is a certain scorn for all the world beside oneself.

 

The Arrogant man is one who will say to a person who is in a hurry that he will see him after dinner when he is taking his walk. He will profess to recollect benefits which he has conferred. As he saunters in the streets, he will decide cases for those who have made him their referee. When he is nominated to public offices, he will protest his inability to accept them, alleging that he is too busy. He will not permit himself to give any man the first greeting. He is apt to order persons who have anything to sell, or who wish to hire anything from him, to come to him at daybreak. When he walks in the streets, he will not speak to those whom he meets, keeping his head bent down, or at other times, when so it pleases him, erect. If he entertains his friends, he will not dine with them himself, but will appoint a subordinate to preside. As soon as he sets out on a journey, he will send some one forward to day that he is coming. He is not likely to admit a visitor when he is anointing himself, or bathing, or at table. It is quite in his manner, too, when he is reckoning with any one, to bid his slave push the counters apart, set down the total, and charge it to the other’s account. In writing a letter, he will not say ‘I should be much obliged,’ but ‘I wish it to be thus and thus’; or ‘I have sent to you for’ this or that; or ‘You will attend to this strictly’; or ‘Without a moments delay.’

 

 
XXV. The Coward

 
Cowardice would seem to be, in fact, the shrinking of the soul through fear
.
 
The Coward is one who, on a voyage, will protest that the promontories are pirates; and, if a high sea gets up, will ask if there is any one on board who has not been initiated. He will put up his head and ask the steersman if he is half-way, and what he thinks of the face of the heavens; remarking to the person sitting next him that a certain dream makes him feel uneasy; and he will take of his tunic and give it to his slave; or he will beg them to put him ashore.
   
    On land also, when he is campaigning, he will call to him those who are going out to the rescue, and bid them come and stand by him and look about them first; saying that it is hard to make out which is the enemy. Hearing shouts and seeing men falling, he will remark to those who stand by him that he has forgotten in his haste to bring his sword, and will run to the tent; where, having sent his slave out to reconnoitre the position of the enemy, he will hide the sword under his pillow, and then spend a long time in pretending to look for it. And seeing from the tent a wounded comrade being carried in, he will run towards him and cry ‘Cher up!’; he will take him into his arms and carry him; he will tend and sponge him; he will sit by him and keep the flies off his wound - in short, he will do anything rather than fight with the enemy. Again, when the trumpeter has sounded the signal for battle, he will cry, as he sits in the tent, ‘Bother! you will not allow the man to get a wink of sleep with your perpetual bugling!’ Then, covered with blood from the other’s wound, he will meet those who are returning from the fight, and announce to them, ‘I have run some risk to save one of our fellows’; and he will bring in the men of his deme and of his tribe to see his patient, at the same time explaining to each of them that he carried him with his own hands to the tent.

 

 
XXVI. The Oligarch

 
The Oligarchical temper would seem to consist in a love of authority, covetous, not of gain, but of power.
 

The Oligarch is one who, when the people are deliberating whom they shall associate with the archon as joint directors of the procession, will come forward and express his opinion that these directors ought to have plenary powers; and, if others propose ten, he will say that ‘one is sufficient,’ but that ‘he must be a man.’. Of Homer’s poetry he has mastered only this line,
 
     No good comes of manifold rule; let the ruler be one:
 
    of the rest he is absolutely ignorant. It is very much in his manner to use phrases of this kind: ‘We must meet and discuss these matters by ourselves, and get clear of the rabble and the market-place’; ‘we must leave off courting office, and being slighted or graced by these fellows’; ‘either they or we must govern the city.’ He will go out about the middle of the day with his cloak gracefully adjusted, his hair daintily trimmed, his nails delicately pared, and strut through the Odeum Street, making such remarks as these: ‘There is no living in Athens for the informers’; ‘we are shamefully treated in the courts by the juries’; ‘I cannot conceive what people want with meddling in public affairs’; ‘how ungrateful the people are - always the slaves of a largess or a bribe’; and ‘how ashamed I am when a meagre, squalid fellow sits down by me in the Ecclesia!’ ‘When,’ he will ask, ‘will they have done ruining us with these public services and trierarchies? How detestable that set of demagogues is! Theseus’ (he will say) ‘was the beginning of mischief to the State. It was he who reduced it from twelve cities to one, and undid the monarchy. And he was rightly served, for he was the people’s first victim himself.’
   
    And so on to foreigners and to those citizens who resemble him in their disposition and their politics.

 

 

XXVII. The Late-Learner

 

Late-learning would seem to mean the pursuit of exercises for which one is too old.

 

The Late-Learner is one who will study passages for recitation when he is sixty, and break down in repeating them over his wine. He will take lessons from his son in ‘Right Whel,’ ‘Left Whel,’ ‘Right-about-face.’ At the festivals of heroes he will match himself against boys for a torch-race; nay, it is just like him, if haply he is invited to a temple of Heracles, to throw off his cloak and seize the ox in order to bend its neck back. He will go into the palaestras and try an encounter; at a conjuror’s performance he will sit out three or four audiences, trying to learn the songs by heart; and, when he is initiated into the rites of Sabazius, he will be eager to acquit himself best in the eyes of the priest. Riding into the country on another’s horse, he will practise his horsemanship by the way; and, falling, will break his head. On a tenth-day festival he will assemble persons to play the flute with him. He will play at tableaux vivants with his footman; and will have matches of archery and javelin-throwing with his children’s attendant, whom he exhorts, at the same time, to learn from him, - as if the other knew nothing about it either. At the bath he will wriggle frequently, as if wrestling, in order that he may appear educated; and, when women are near, he will practise dancing-steps, warbling his own accompaniment.

 

 
XXVIII. The Evil-Speaker
 

The habit of Evil-speaking is a bent of the mind towards putting things in the worst light
.
 
The Evil-speaker is one who, when asked who so-and-so is, will reply, in the style of genealogists, ‘I will begin with his parentage. This person’s father was originally called Sosias; in the ranks he came to rank as Sosistratus; and, when he was enrolled in his deme, as Sosidemus. His mother, I may add, is a noble damsel of Thrace - at least she is called “my life” in the language of Corinth - and they say that such ladies are esteemed noble in their own country. Our friend himself, as might be expected from his parentage, is - a rascally scoundrel.’ He is very fond, also, of saying to one: ‘Of course - I understand that sort of thing; you do not err in your way of describing it to our friends and me. These women snatch the passers-by out of the very street…That is a house which has not the best of characters…Really there is somsing in that proverb about the women…In short, they have a trick of gossiping with men, - and they answer the hall-door themselves.’
   
    It is just like him, too, when others are speaking evil, to join in: - ‘And I hate that man above all men. He looks a scoundrel - it is written on his face; and his baseness - it defies description. Here is proof - he allows his wife, who brought him six talents of dowry and has borne him a child, three copper coins for the luxuries of the table; and makes her wash with cold water on Poseidon’s day.’ When he is sitting with others, he loves to criticise one who has just left the circle; nay, if he has found an occasion, he will not abstain from abusing his own relations. Indeed, he will say all manner of injurious things of his friends and relatives, and of the dead; misnaming slander ‘plain speaking,’ ‘democratic,’ ‘independence,’ and making it the chief pleasure of his life.

 

    [Thus can the sting of ill temper produce in men the character of insanity and frenzy.]

 

 

XXIX. The Patron of Rascals

 

The Patronising of Rascals is a form of the appetite for vice.

 

The Patron of Rascals is one who will throw himself into the company of those who have lost lawsuits and have been found guilty in criminal causes; conceiving that, if he associates with such persons, he will become more a man of the world, and will inspire the greater awe. Speaking of honest men, he will add ‘so-so,’ and will remark that no one is honest, - all men are alike; indeed, one of his sarcasms is, ‘What an honest fellow!’ Again, he will say that the rascal is ‘a frank man, if one will look fairly at the matter.’ ‘Most of the things that people say of him,’ he admits, ‘are true; but some things’ (he adds) ‘they do not know; namely that he is a clever fellow, and fond of his friends, and a man of tact’; and he will contend in his behalf that he has ‘never met with an abler man.’ He will show him favour, also, when he speaks in the Ecclesia or is at the bar of a court; he is fond, too, of remarking to the bench, ‘The question is of the cause, not the person.’ ‘The defendant,’ he will say, ‘is the watch-dog of the people, - he keeps an eye on evil-doers. We shall have nobody to take the public wrongs to heart, if we allow ourselves to lose such men.’ Then he is apt to become the champion of worthless persons, and to form conspiracies in the law-courts in bad causes; and, when he is hearing a case, to take up the statements of the litigants in the worst sense.

 

    [In short, sympathy with rascality is sister to rascality itself; and true is the proverb that ‘Like moves towards like.’]

 

 
XXX. The Avaricious Man

 
Avarice is excessive desire of base gain.
 

The Avaricious man is one who, when he entertains, will not set enough bread upon the table. He will borrow from a guest staying in his house. When he makes a distribution, he will say that the distributor is entitled to a double share, and thereupon will help himself. When he sells wine, he will sell it watered to his own friend. He will seize the opportunity of taking his boys to the play, when the lessees of the theatre grant free admission. If he travels on the public service, he will leave at home the money allowed to him by the State, and will borrow of his colleagues in the embassy; he will load his servant with more baggage than he can carry, and give him shorter rations than any other master does; he will demand, too, his strict share of the presents, - and sell it. When he is anointing himself at the bath, he will say to the slave-boy, ‘Why, this oil that you have bought is rancid’ - and will use someone else’s. He is apt to claim his part of a copper coin found by his servants in the streets, and to cry ‘Shares in the luck!’ Having sent his cloak to be scoured he will borrow another from an acquaintance, and delay to restore it for several days, until it is demanded back.
   
    These, again, are traits of his. He will weigh out their rations to his household with his own hands, using ‘the measure of the frugal king,’ with the bottom dinted inward, and carefully brushing the rim. He will buy a thing privately, when a friend seems ready to sell it on reasonable terms, and will dispose of it at a raise price. It is just like him, too, when he is paying a debt of thirty minas, to withhold four drachmas. Then, if his sons, through ill-health, do not attend the school throughout the month, he will make a proportionate deduction from the payment; and all through Anthesterion he will not send them to their lessons because there are so many festivals, and he does not wish to pay the fees. When he is receiving rent from a slave, he will demand in addition the discount charged on the copper money; also, in going through the account of the manager he will challenge small items. Entertaining his clansmen, he will beg a dish from the common table for his own servants; and will register the half-radishes left over from the repast, in order that the attendants may not get them. Again, when he travels with acquaintances, he will make use of their servants, but will let his own slave out for hire; nor will he place the proceeds to the common account. It is just like him, too, when a club-dinner is held at his house, to secrete some of the fire-wood, lentils, vinegar, salt, and lamp-oil placed at his disposal. If a friend, or a friend’s daughter, is to be married, he will go abroad a little while before, in order to avoid giving a wedding present. And he will borrow from his acquaintances things of a kind that no one would ask back, - or readily take back, if it were proposed to restore them.

 

finis

Proprietary Notice: © – 04/10/2003 – by michael sympson. Text may be downloaded for personal use, provided all copies retain the copyright and proprietary notices. No material may be modified, edited or taken out of context. Any commercial use in advertising or publicity requires permission in writing by the author's estate.
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