« back to search

"But during the time of his pleading, the genuine colour of his mind is laid over with a temporary glaring varnish, which flies off instantaneously when he has finished his harangue."

— Boswell, James (1740-1795)

Author

Boswell, James (1740-1795)

Work Title

Remarks on the Profession of a Player, Essay II [from The London Magazine]

Place of Publication

London

Publisher

R. Baldwin

Date

September, 1770

Metaphor

"But during the time of his pleading, the genuine colour of his mind is laid over with a temporary glaring varnish, which flies off instantaneously when he has finished his harangue."

Metaphor in Context

If I may be allowed to conjecture what is the nature of that mysterious power by which a player really is the character which he represents, my notion is, that he must have a kind of double feeling. He must assume in a strong degree the character which he represents, while he at the same time retains the consciousness of his own character. The feelings and passions of the character which he represents, must take full possession as it were of the antichamber of his mind, while his own character remains in the innermost recess. This is experienced in some measure by the barrister who enters warmly into the cause of his client, while at the same time, when he examines himself coolly, he knows that he is much in the wrong, and does not even wish to prevail. But during the time of his pleading, the genuine colour of his mind is laid over with a temporary glaring varnish, which flies off instantaneously when he has finished his harangue. The double feeling which I have mentioned is experienced by many men in the common intercourse of life. Were nothing but the real character to appear, society would not be half so safe and agreeable as we find it. Did we discover to our companions what we really think of them, frequent quarrels would ensue; and did we not express more regard for them than we really feel, the pleasure of social intercourse would be very contracted. It being necessary then in the intercourse of life to have such appearances, and dissimulation being to most people irksome and fatiguing, we insensibly, for our own ease, adopt feelings suitable to every occasion, and so, like players, are to a certain degree a different character from our own. It is needless to mention many instances of this; every man's experience must have furnished him with a variety of instances, which will readily occur to him. He will recollect instances in every funeral that he has attended—every birth-day entertainment at which he has been a guest—every country seat, the beauties of which have been shewn him by its master--every party of pleasure in which he has shared---In short, he can hardly recollect a scene of social life, where he has not been conscious more or less, of having been obliged to work himself into a state of feeling, which he would not naturally have had.
(pp. 469-70)