We could not have in miniature a more perfect sketch than this of the character of the man, with those peculiarities that were to make of him so original a writer, and little did Marivaux imagine that in the coquette of Limoges he “had seen the living and faithful image of his Muse,"[14] with all its archness, coquettishness, and ingenuity in style and expression.  Marivaux had much of the feminine in his nature,—­a rare intuition, a marked finesse in observation, an extreme sensitiveness with regard to his own and others’ feelings, a dislike of criticism with a reluctance to reply to it, though never forgetting the attack, a certain timidity with men, a fondness for dress and luxury, an extreme love of conversation, generosity to the point of self-sacrifice, and a religious turn of mind in a sceptical century.  His connection with the salons of Paris, where so much of his life was spent in the society of women, probably contributed largely to develop those traits that were doubtless innate.

With something of the coquette in his own nature, Marivaux had no patience with it in others.  D’Alembert relates another incident, which will serve to show that not only affectation, but also everything that seemed to him too studied, received his condemnation.  “One day, he went to see a man from whom he had received many letters, which were almost in his own style, and, which, as one may well imagine, had seemed to him very ingenious.  Not finding him, he determined to wait.  He noticed, by chance, on the desk of this man, the rough draughts of the letters which he had received from him, and which he supposed had been written off-hand.  Here are rough draughts, said he, which do him no credit:  henceforth, he may make minutes of his letters for whomsoever he likes, but he shall receive no more of mine.  He left the house instantly, and never returned."[15]

At the age of eighteen[16] (1706), and shortly after leaving college, Marivaux made his debut in literature as the result of a discussion in which he maintained that a comedy was not a difficult thing to write.  Upon being challenged to prove his point, he set to work, and, a few days later, brought to the company a comedy in one act, entitled le Pere prudent et equitable, ou Crispin l’heureux fourbe.  It is the only one of Marivaux’s comedies written in verse, which form of composition he adopted the better to test himself and to demonstrate his claim; but he took good care not to give to the public his comedy, “pour ne pas perdre en public,” he said, “le pari qu’il avait gagne en secret,"[17] and it was not until nearly fifteen years later, when he had reached the age of thirty-two, that he entrusted a work to the stage.  He did well to keep this comedy from the public, for it contained little that gave promise of genius, being juvenile in character, dull and faulty in versification, and largely, though poorly, imitated from Moliere and Regnard.