Is the picture of a friend, and as pictures flatter many times, so he
oft shews fairer than the true substance: his look, conversation,
company, and all the outwardness of friendship more pleasing by odds,
for a true friend dare take the liberty to be sometimes offensive,
whereas he is a great deal more cowardly, and will not let the least
hold go, for fear of losing you. Your mere sour look affrights him, and
makes him doubt his cashiering. And this is one sure mark of him, that
he is never first angry, but ready though upon his own wrong to make
satisfaction. Therefore he is never yoked with a poor man, or any that
stands on the lower ground, but whose fortunes may tempt his pains to
deceive him. Him he learns first, and learns well, and grows perfecter
in his humours than himself, and by this door enters upon his soul, of
which he is able at last to take the very print and mark, and fashion
his own by it, like a false key to open all your secrets. All his
affections jump[84] even with yours; he is before-hand with your
thoughts, and able to suggest them unto you. He will commend to you
first what he knows you like, and has always some absurd story or other
of your enemy, and then wonders how your two opinions should jump in
that man. He will ask your counsel sometimes as a man of deep judgment,
and has a secret of purpose to disclose to you, and, whatsoever you say,
is persuaded. He listens to your words with great attention, and
sometimes will object that you may confute him, and then protests he
never heard so much before. A piece of wit bursts him with an
overflowing laughter, and he remembers it for you to all companies, and
laughs again in the telling. He is one never chides you but for your
virtues, as, _you are too good, too honest, too religious_, when his
chiding may seem but the earnester commendation, and yet would fain
chide you out of them too; for your vice is the thing he has use of, and
wherein you may best use him; and he is never more active than in the
worst diligences. Thus, at last, he possesses you from yourself, and
then expects but his hire to betray you: and it is a happiness not to
discover him; for as long as you are happy, you shall not.