The experimental matter of the knowledge of men presents such vast developments that, even envisioning it under very limited aspects, one is still in the infinite; the author is obliged to continue his use of the Aristotelian and Cartesian methods, which he has until now made use. Division, classification, category: one does not quite know what order costs in the works that take pride in being serious by wanting to avoid boredom. The difficulties of execution of this work are such that harmony could be quite lacking.

The basis of human character is moral strength. The degree of will or energy places between men the same distance as that of physical strength between the animals. In this aspect, a man can be to another man what a rat or weasel is to a lion. This truth is unshakable; it is moreover quite sinister; it is for this reason that one does not cry it from the rooftops. And now you overturn a society from bottom to top, you level all that was constructed on its surface; you pass over it the plow and you sow with salt; you decree agrarian law and absolute equality; you reduce man to the state of a larva and society to the state of a primitive tribe. If this egalitarian leveling was possible for a minute, the next minute moral strength -- which is unequally distributed among men -- will have re-made political hierarchy and social categories from top to bottom.

One can decompose all of the actions of human life; one will find in them the same game of moral strength. In all critical circumstances -- in a war, in an assembly -- the energy of several men carries along the rest. In the routine movements of life, actions always persevere due to the will that is triumphant. There are two men who live together: the one who has more character leads the other. In a group of ten united men, the best tempered lead the others.

There is no more revolting against this law than against the laws of gravity, attraction and the gravitation of bodies. At the basis of the relations among men, there thus reign the respective aptitudes to exercise domination or submit to it. Thus one easily understands why there are men below and others on high; why there are governments, princes and aristocracies. The original primitive forces that have constituted a state of things determined at a given moment tend to perpetuate themselves in institutions, organize into classes, castes, privileges and sovereignty, by paralyzing or disarming the contrary forces that could destroy them. Moral strength organizes social strength to its profit and makes it serve its ambitions.

It is not the case that there is something profoundly irritating about the yoke of public power that is founded on the weakness of other men. Strength divided among the masses unites [them] under the control of a communal hatred; one thus makes revolutions; but who makes them? Moral strength falls to several several resolute men. One does not leave this circle.

Finally, in the last state of things, one reaches the equality of law; all hereditary public power has disappeared, all privilege is destroyed. Social life is no more than an immense competition, open to all ambitions. And this competition quite resembles a gymnasium to which one has invited the lame, the one-handed, the paralyzed and the gout-ridden to compete for the prize with able-bodied competitors, who quickly overtake them, climb the poles, spring upon the trapezes so as to win a prize that depends upon the agility of one's arms and legs.

Quite obviously the obstacle here is only displaced; instead of being outside, it is inside. Individual power, given over to the liberty of its development, performs its exclusionary service like any other social mechanism, by excluding ninety-nine one-hundredths of the competitors, who feel that they have the appetite necessary to take part in the festivals of life.

One remains confronted with strength. Which one? Moral strength; but in a sense, does not this moral strength strongly resemble material strength in its effectiveness? Yes.

Moral strength is thus the primary element, of which the scope among men one must appreciate. It is the essential nuance that distinguishes them. Moral strength is a mother-faculty because it is habitually accompanied by a certain number of faculties of the first order, which include self-control [sang-froid], dissimulation, judgment and prudence.

Some men have passions that are so weak, desire so uncertain, and movement so irregular that one can compare them with [inanimate] things. One can see some men whose passions are violent, but whose decisiveness vacillates, because their judgment is null; others are perfectly regulated in their movements and habits because the sphere of their ideas is no larger than a squirrel's cage.

These two classes of men form the immense majority, the governed farm animals; the cannon-fodder; the taxable, exploitable, workable matter; public strength, public opinion, etc.

One is warned that it is not a question here of the vigor of the soul or the spirit, but of the ensemble of the qualities and faults, vices and virtues, that constitute each particular person and essentially distinguishes each from the others. If one wants, this could even be the dominant trait that is extracted from his or her own moral nature. In the same way there are men without will, her or her character is indeterminate: neuter gender [le genre neutre], gender varied in its way [genre], because the inexhaustible variety of nature never stops.

It is not a slight advantage to be born with character, because all men whose naturalness is in relief act with more or less power over the neuters and half-neuters; and this is an observation that is to be retained from the point of view of education, which is not spoken of in this book because this subject more particularly fits into the domains of boring literature. Here is the observation:

If it is almost always useful in the world to dissimulate one's thinking, it is necessary to show one's character. The immense habit that men have makes it so that any new person with whom they find themselves in contact is immediately the object of their analyses. They must classify him in one of the species that they know, or if he possesses an effigy that is new to them, they can clearly distinguish it; otherwise, they grow distant, cold or mistrustful. Therefore, all men who have a character stamped by strength or originality cannot show it. True nature returns among those whose soul lacked culture; externally, they do not appear as they are in reality. Their familiar demon does not leave. The forms that are the means of placing oneself outside fail.

The immense advantage of education is that it retains the original type by purifying it and giving to a vividly endowed character the means of manifestation.

It is as a warning that we mention that by "principles" we do not mean the ideas of law and duty, which, together, enter into notions of morality. These notions do not occupy enough place in the practice of life for one to include them in a work that crudely, but hopefully not ungracefully, reflects contemporary society.

By "principles" we mean the chain of good or bad ideas of each particular person [that have influence] over the totality of the concerns of social life. It has already been sufficiently demonstrated that it isn't correct ideas that have the most control over men, but their apparent or real novelty, their more or less passionate forms, and their brilliant liaisons, instead.

Without a very great depth of general ideas, one does not attain the intellectual level, and it is not necessary to aspire to have the least [degrees of] preponderance, influence or guiding [directrice] strength. Furthermore, it will indicated (when the time is right) that one can be provided with many general ideas and still not be any less of a sufficient nullity.

Among the quite limited numbers of those who have explored a slightly widened circle of ideas and who are in the position to plausibly touch upon a question of art or politics, the majority are attached to their opinions by a pure effect of chance. It appears almost no one realizes the almost always accidental character of people's manners of seeing and holding political opinions. A memory from college, a family impression, a story read in childhood or adolescence, the influence of a mistress, the resentment of a wrong -- this is what collectively decides the political opinions of the majority of the people who believe they have a [truly] personal idea in their heads. Also, there isn't the least importance in adding to the majority of the opinions that are affirmed by the spoken word or the pen. Almost always they are bad copies of an original edition, of which the meaning has been effaced; and even the one who speaks does not manage to relate his own thoughts. Behind the functionary, there is a salary; behind the journalist, [there is] a financier; behind the publicist, [there is] a secretary; behind the pamphleteer, [there is] a hungry person.

One knows that, in the theater, there are a certain number of people who, by tradition or convention, fill what are called roles or types. These figures having nothing fortuitous about them; they are only the reproduction of a certain number of characters whose type is most abundantly furnished by society.[1] In whatever milieu it might be, one can find the parasite, the cheat, the coward, the informer, etc; the rest can, if one wants, form an ancient chorus.

There is an indefinite quantity of people who were born to be spies, interlopers, traitors and rogues. They are roles and types. One knows that these common types attain a certain nobility, a certain dignity to the extent that, over the course of [several] revolutions, one rises in the spheres of social life, politics and business. One has only to read history.

The species of humans are as innumerable in their genus [genre] as the varieties of animals. In a given class of men, as in the animal kingdom, there are families. Could not the study of human character be undertaken following the methods of natural history?

Here we will propose several classifications, only those that can enter into the general lines of the subjects. One might, for example, divide the generality of characters into three broad categories: simple characters; compound characters; and characters in contrast.

In simple characters, the qualities or flaws are homogenous. Good or evil, the tones are united, there is only one that is dominant. For example, such a man will be avaricious or jealous, vain or credulous. His faculties and his habits are summarized by one of these salient traits. He will practically have an essential quality or flaw that will be his entire personality.

The compound character is the alloy of several vices, qualities, passions or faults whose complications constitute moral natures that are very difficult to define or explain.

The contrasting character is only a variety of the compound character. By uniting the extremes, he escapes even more completely from analysis. Thus it is not rare to see men who are avaricious and prodigal, proud and base, pliant and haughty, audacious and timid, frank and dissimulative, courageous and cowardly. What is the seal of their personality, the general law of their being?

Here are the originals:

The maniacs, so marvelously painted by La Bruyere.[2]

There are men who have souls; others of whom one say that they don't.

There are false minds, narrow minds, just minds.

Artificial people and those who are not.

People who are positively good; those who are positively wicked; those who are neither good nor wicked; those whose depths are better than their skin; those whose skin is better than their depths.

Concentrated characters; open characters.

Men who only have moral qualities; those who have only talent.

Men who have hot blood; men who have cold blood; those whose ardor comes from imagination; those among whom it comes from temperament.

Active people and indolent people. Those who are active without having skill; those who are adroit but passive. Minds without consequences; those who are perseverant; the irresolute, etc.

One only needs seven colors to obtain an infinite variety of colors; one only needs seven notes to create the world of harmonies; one only needs ten numbers to produce an infinity of quantities. By these facts one can judge the varieties of character, since among men each passion, each quality or each fault (more or less capable of an infinity of variations) combines with a thousand other faculties that are more or less proportionate to infinity.

This observation removes all interest and all foundation from the attempt to make any classifications.

In a given person, there is not one single character: there are ten. A classification of him only reflects one of his surfaces; several interesting remarks can be only be made about him.

The manner of understanding probity creates the most astonishing moral particularities among men. Thus, there are people who would sell out their country, commit any villainy, all possible baseness with respect to power, and who, nevertheless, would not embezzle a penny from the public treasury.

There are others who would extort [or embezzle] without any scruple, but who would regard the abuse of the confidence of a friend to be a dishonor. Others, dishonest in business, demonstrate probity in their public lives.

There are people who would steal to pay off their creditors or honor their obligations.

The intellectual merit of men presents other, no less extraordinary contrasts. One sees men whose spirit appears very open to certain rays of ideas; they become deaf, dumb and blind when it is a question of something else. One sees publicists who, with more or less authority, advise and criticize governments; who would be incapable of opening their mouths at a council meeting; one sees orators who admirably develop questions, give opinions full of wisdom, and who act with ineptitude if one confides the least power in them. One sees men with special talents, who have an unheard-of incapacity for everything that does not concern their respective specialties. Finally, one encounters people who, obtuse in appearance, cannot develop their ideas in words or writing and yet make marvels in the sphere of action.

The theoretical opinions that one in fact forms concerning politics, religion and morality are so many aspects of mental alienation for a number of individuals who have ideas that are really crazy. A man who has unity in character and ideas is like a horse without defect or a woman without fault: one cannot find either one.

Final observation: character changes, not only because ideas change with age, or because faults, ridiculous qualities and defects become more obvious, but because they change following the [social] position that one occupies: they are transformed completely during revolutions. When revolution breathes a current of baseness, everyone becomes vile; when it breathes a current of fear, everyone becomes cowardly; when it breathes a current of vengeance, everyone becomes cruel. The majority of revolutions we have seen have presented this tableau.

Knowledge of men does not at all consist in the general notions that one comes to explore, even if such notions are very profound. Such knowledge consists of entering into all individuals through their actions and language, affirming what they are, divining, foreseeing what they might do in this or that circumstance. One can thus calculate the difficulty of such an analysis and the insightfulness that it supposes; it is an aptitude that seems wonderful, because being able to know what men are capable of doing in this or that circumstance is being able to know with certainty more about them than they themselves know.

Proof alone reveals the real value of character. Will a man be good, will he be bad, will he be courageous, will he be cowardly at the moment of his life during which one can take his measure? One can be deceived in this regard by the most unexpected results.

Today many people can still recall the circumstances of the trial of Lavalette, brought before the criminal court of the Seine under the Restoration as an accomplice in the events of 20 March.[3] In this affair, there occurred an accident that one can see as morality in action. During the Hundred Days, the Count of Lavalette accepted the general directorship of the post office after rallying to the royal cause. Sent back to the criminal court, his fate could not be doubted. When one communicated to him the jury list, he could only find one name on it that was known to him: that of Mr Heron de Villefosse, whom he knew as the master of appeals at the Council of State when he himself had been seated as a counselor and with whom he had been linked. Would the advocate of the king recuse the former functionary? Lavalette feared him, an his joy was great when he saw him now. On the other hand, he could not suppress a quick feeling of displeasure when -- after having exhausted his right of recusation -- he heard announced from the urn the name of Mr Jurien, former emigrant, then [member of the] Counsel of State and Director of the Ministry of the Navy, whom he regarded as his personal enemy. Mr de Villefosse was designated the president of the jury, a circumstance in which Lavalette had hopes for salvation. At the closure of debate, Lavalette returned to his room to await the verdict of the jury, he only saw impassive faces; a single one held his handkerchief over his eyes and hid his tears. It was Mr Jurien, his enemy, who cried over his fate after having done all he could for the defense, whereas Mr Heron de Villefosse, his old friend, had used all his strength to obtain his condemnation.

Judge men thus!

[1] See "roles" in Raoul Vaneigem's Treatise on Living for the Younger Generations (1967).

[2] Jean de la Bruyere (1645-1696), a French moralist and author.

[3] Antoine-Marie Chamans, Count of Lavalette (1769-1830). His trial was in 1815.

(Anonymous [Maurice Joly], first published 1868 by Editions Amyot. Reprinted by Editions Allia, 1992. Translated from the French by NOT BORED! May 2008. All footnotes by the translator.)