report of it, I know not what inexplicable and fatal power, a mean and
Mediatrix of this indissoluble union. We sought one another, before we
had seen one another, and by the reports we heard one of another; which
wrought a greater violence in us, than the reason of reports may well
bear: I think by some secret ordinance of the heavens, we embraced one
another by our names. And at our first meeting, which was by chance at a
great feast, and solemn meeting of a whole township, we found ourselves
so surprized, so known, so acquainted, and so combinedly bound together,
that from thence forward, nothing was so near unto us, as one unto
another. He writ an excellent Latin Satire; since published; by
[Sidenote: A first meeting]
which he excuseth and expoundeth the precipitation of our acquaintance,
so suddenly come to her perfection; Sithence it must continue so short a
time, and begun so late (for we were both grown men, and he some years
older than myself) there was no time to be lost. And it was not to be
modelled or directed by the pattern of regular and remiss friendship,
wherein so many precautions of a long and preallable conversation are
required. This hath no other _Idea_ than of itself, and can have no
reference but to itself. It is not one especial consideration, nor two,
nor three, nor four, nor a thousand: It is I wot not what kind of
quintessence, of all this commixture, which having seized all my will,
induced the same to plunge and lose itself in his, which likewise having
seized all his will, brought it to lose and
[Sidenote: Gracchus and Blosius]
plunge itself in mine, with a mutual greediness, and with a semblable
concurrence. I may truly say, lose, reserving nothing unto us, that
might properly be called our own, nor that was either his, or mine. When
_Lelius_ in the presence of the Roman Consuls, who after the
condemnation of _Tiberius Gracchus_, pursued all those that had been of
his acquaintance, came to enquire of _Caius Blosius_ (who was one of his
chiefest friends) what he would have done for him, and that he answered,
_All things. What? All things?_ replied he: _And what if he had willed
thee to burn our Temples?_ _Blosius_ answered, _He would never have
commanded such a thing. But what if he had done it?_ replied _Lelius_:
The other answered, _I would have obeyed him_: If he were so perfect a
friend to _Gracchus_, as Histories report, he needed
[Sidenote: Gracchus and Blosius]
not offend the Consuls with this last and bold confession, and should
not have departed from the assurance he had of _Gracchus_ his mind. But
yet those, who accuse this answer as seditious, understand not well this
mystery: and do not presuppose in what terms he stood, and that he held
_Gracchus_ his will in his sleeve, both by power and knowledge. They
were rather friends than Citizens, rather friends than enemies of their
country, or friends of ambition and trouble. Having absolutely committed
themselves one to another, they perfectly held the reins of one
another’s inclination: and let this yoke be guided by virtue and conduct
of reason (because without them it is altogether impossible to combine
and proportion the same). The answer of _Blosius_ was such as it should
be. If their affections
[Sidenote: A friend’s will]
miscarried, according to my meaning, they were neither friends one to
other, nor friends to themselves. As for the rest, this answer sounds no
more than mine would do, to him that would in such sort enquire of me;
if your will should command you to kill your daughter, would you do it?
and that I should consent unto it: for, that beareth no witness of
consent to do it: because I am not in doubt of my will, and as little of
such a friend’s will. It is not in the power of the world’s discourse to
remove me from the certainty I have of his intentions and judgements of
mine: no one of its actions might be presented unto me, under what shape
soever, but I would presently find the spring and motion of it. Our
minds have jumped so unitedly together, they have with so fervent an
affection considered
[Sidenote: Friends’ affection]
of each other, and with like affection so discovered and sounded, even
to the very bottom of each other’s heart and entrails, that I did not
only know his, as well as mine own, but I would (verily) rather have
trusted him concerning any matter of mine, than myself. Let no man
compare any of the other common friendships to this. I have as much
knowledge of them as another, yea of the perfectest of their kind: yet
will I not persuade any man to confound their rules, for so a man might
be deceived. In these other strict friendships a man must march with the
bridle of wisdom and precaution in his hand; the bond is not so strictly
tied, but a man may in some sort distrust the same. _Love him_ (said
_Chilon_) _as if you should one day hate him again. Hate him as if you
should love him again._ This precept, so
[Sidenote: Customary friendships]
abominable in this soveraign and mistress Amity, is necessary and
wholesome in the use of vulgar and customary friendships: toward which a
man must employ the saying _Aristotle_ was wont so often to repeat, _Oh
you my friends, there is no perfect friend_.
In this noble commerce, offices and benefits (nurses of other amities)
deserve not so much as to be accounted of: this confusion so full of our
wills is cause of it: for even as the friendship I bear unto myself,
admits no accrease, by any succour I give myself in any time of need,
whatsoever the Stoics alleage; and as I acknowledge no thanks unto
myself for any service I do unto myself, so the union of such friends,
being truly perfect, makes them lose the feeling of such duties, and
hate, and expel from one
[Sidenote: Mutual agreement]
another these words of division, and difference; benefit, good deed,
duty, obligation, acknowledgement, prayer, thanks, and such their like.
All things being by effect common between them; wills, thoughts,
judgements, goods, wives, children, honour, and life; and their mutual
agreement, being no other than one soul in two bodies, according to the
fit definition of _Aristotle_, they can neither lend or give ought to
each other. See here the reason why Lawmakers, to honour marriage with
some imaginary resemblance of this divine bond, inhibit donations
between husband and wife; meaning thereby to infer, that all things
should peculiarly be proper to each of them, and that they have nothing
to divide and share together. If in the friendship whereof I speak, one
might give unto
[Sidenote: The will of Eudamidas]
another, the receiver of the benefit should bind his fellow. For, each
seeking more than any other thing, to do each other good, he who yields
both matter and occasion, is the man sheweth himself liberal, giving his
friend that contentment, to effect towards him what he desireth most.
When the Philosopher _Diogenes_ wanted money, he was wont to say; _That
he re-demanded the same of his friends, and not that he demanded it_:
And to show how that is practised by effect, I will relate an ancient
singular example. _Eudamidas_ the Corinthian had two friends.
_Charixenus_ a Sycionian, and _Aretheus_ a Corinthian; being upon his
death-bed, and very poor, and his two friends very rich, thus made his
last will and testament. _To_ Aretheus, _I bequeath the keeping of my
mother, and to maintain_
[Illustration]
[Sidenote: Aretheus]
_her when she shall be old: To_ Charixenus _the marrying of my daughter,
and to give her as great a dowry as he may: and in case one of them
shall chance to die before, I appoint the surviver to substitute his
charge, and supply his place_. Those that first saw this testament,
laughed and mocked at the same; but his heirs being advertised thereof,
were very well pleased, and received it with singular contentment. And
_Charixenus_ one of them, dying five days after _Eudamidas_, the
substitution being declared in favour of _Aretheus_, he carefully, and
very kindly kept and maintained his mother, and of five talents that he
was worth, he gave two and a half in marriage to one only daughter he
had, and the other two and a half to the daughter of _Eudamidas_, whom
he married both in one day. This
[Sidenote: Divisions of common friendships]
example is very ample, if one thing were not, which is the multitude of
friends: For this perfect amity I speak of is indivisible; each man doth
so wholly give himself unto his friend, that he hath nothing left him to
divide elsewhere: moreover he is grieved that he is [not] double,
triple, or quadruple, and hath not many souls, or sundry wills, that he
might confer them all upon this subject. Common friendships may be
divided; a man may love beauty in one, facility of behaviour in another,
liberality in one, and wisdom in another, paternity in this, fraternity
in that man, and so forth: but this amity which possesseth the soul, and
sways it in all soveraignty, it is impossible it should be double. If
two at one instant should require help, to which would you run? Should
they crave contrary offices of you,
[Sidenote: A principal friendship]
what order would you follow? Should one commit a matter to your silence,
which if the other knew would greatly profit him, what course would you
take? Or how would you discharge yourself? A singular and principal
friendship dissolveth all other duties, and freeth all other
obligations. The secret I have sworn not to reveal to another, I may
without perjury impart it unto him, who is no other but myself. It is a
great and strange wonder for a man to double himself; and those that
talk of tripling, know not, nor cannot reach unto the height of it.
_Nothing is extreme, that hath his like._ And he who shall presuppose,
that of two I love the one as well as the other, and that they
inter-love one another, and love me as much as I love them: he
multiplieth in brotherhood,
[Sidenote: The force of friendship]
a thing most singular, and a lonely one, and than which one alone is
also the rarest to be found in the world. The remainder of this history
agreeth very well with what I said; for, _Eudamidas_ giveth as a grace
and favour to his friends to employ them in his need: he leaveth them as
his heirs of his liberality, which consisteth in putting the means into
their hands, to do him good. And doubtless, the force of friendship is
much more richly shown in his deed, than in _Aretheus_. To conclude,
they are [inimaginable] effects, to him that hath not tasted them; and
which makes me wonderfully to honour the answer of that young Soldier to
_Cyrus_, who enquiring of him, what he would take for a horse, with
which he had lately gained the prize of a race, and whether he would
change
[Sidenote: A superficial acquaintance]
him for a Kingdom? _No, surely, my Liege_ (said he), _yet would I
willingly forego him to gain a true friend, could I but find a man
worthy of so precious an alliance_. He said not ill, in saying, _could I
but find_. For, a man shall easily find men fit for a superficial
acquaintance; but in this, wherein men negotiate from the very centre of
their hearts, and make no spare of any thing, it is most requisite, all
the wards and springs be sincerely wrought, and perfectly true. In
confederacies, which hold but by one end, men have nothing to provide
for, but for the imperfections, which particularly do interest and
concern that end and respect. It is no great matter what religion my
Physician and Lawyer is of: this consideration hath nothing common with
the offices of that friendship they owe me.
[Sidenote: Concerning table-talk]
So do I in the familiar acquaintances, that those who serve me contract
with me. I am nothing inquisitive whether a Lackey be chaste or no, but
whether he be diligent: I fear not a gaming Muletier, so much as if he
be weak; nor a hot swearing Cooke, as one that is ignorant and
unskilful; I never meddle with saying what a man should do in the world;
there are over many others that do it; but what myself do in the world.
‘_Mihi sic usus est: Tibi, ut opus est facto, face._’
TER., _Heau._ Act i. Scen. i. 28.
So is it requisite for me;
Do thou as needful is for thee.
Concerning familiar table-talk, I rather acquaint myself with, and
follow a merry conceited humour, than a wise man.... In society or
conversation of familiar discourse, I respect rather sufficiency,
[Sidenote: Friendship difficult to find]
though without _Preud’hommie_, and so of all things else. Even as he
that was found riding upon an hobby-horse, playing with his children,
besought him, who thus surprized him, not to speak of it, until he were
a father himself supposing the tender fondness, and fatherly passion,
which then would possess his mind, should make him an impartial judge of
such an action. So would I wish to speak to such as had tried what I
speak of: but knowing how far such an amity is from the common use, and
how seldom seen and rarely found, I look not to find a competent judge.
For, even the discourses, which stern antiquity hath left us concerning
this subject, seem to me but faint and forceless in respect of the
feeling I have of it: And in that point the effects exceed the very
precepts of Philosophy.
‘_Nil ego contulerim jucundo sanus amico._’
HOR., i. _Sat._ v. 44.
For me, be I well in my wit,
Nought, as a merry friend, so fit.
[Sidenote: The shadow of a true friend]
Ancient _Menander_ accounted him happy, that had but met the shadow of a
true friend: verily he had reason to say so, especially if he had tasted
of any: for truly, if I compare all the rest of my forepassed life,
which although I have by the mere mercy of God, past at rest and ease,
and except the loss of so dear a friend, free from all grievous
affliction, with an ever-quietness of mind, as one that have taken my
natural and original commodities in good payment, without searching any
others: if, as I say, I compare it all unto the four years, I so happily
enjoyed the sweet company, and dear-dear society of that worthy man, it
is
[Sidenote: Montaigne’s friend]
nought but a vapour, nought but a dark and irkesome [night]. Since the
time I lost him,
‘_quem semper acerbum,_
_Semper honoratum (sic Dii voluistis) habebo._’
VIRG., _Aen._ v. 49.
Which I shall ever hold a bitter day,
Yet ever honor’d (so my God t’ obey).
I do but languish, I do but sorrow: and even those pleasures, all things
present me with, instead of yielding me comfort, do but redouble the
grief of his loss. We were co-partners in all things. All things were
with us at half: methinks I have stolen his part from him.
‘--_Nec fas esse ulla me voluptate hîc frui_
_Decrevi, tantisper dum ille abest meus particeps._’
TER., _Heau._ Act i. Scen. i. 97.
I have set down, no joy enjoy I may,
As long as he my partner is away.
I was so accustomed to be ever two,
[Sidenote: Montaigne’s friend]
and so enured to be never single, that methinks I am but half myself.
‘_Illam meæ si partem animæ tulit,_
_Maturior vis, quid moror altera,_
_Nec charus æque nec superstes,_
_Integer? Ille dies utramque_
_Duxit ruinam.’_--HOR., ii. _Od._ xvii. 5.
Since that part of my soul riper fate reft me,
Why stay I here the other part he left me?
Nor so dear, nor entire, while here I rest:
That day hath in one ruin both opprest.
There is no action can betide me, or imagination possess me, but I hear
him saying, as indeed he would have done to me: for even as he did excel
me by an infinite distance in all other sufficiencies and virtues, so
did he in all offices and duties of friendship.
‘_Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus,_
_Tam chari capitis?_’--i. _Od._ xxiv. 1.
What modesty or measure may I bear,
In want and wish of him that was so dear?
[Sidenote: In memoriam]
‘_O misero frater adempte mihi!_
_Omnia tecum unà perierunt gaudia nostra,_
_Quæ tuus in vita dulcis alebat amor._
_Tu mea, tu moriens fregisti commoda frater,_
_Tecum unà tota est nostra sepulta anima,_
_Cujus ego interitu tota de mente fugavi_
_Hæc studia, atque omnes delicias animi._
_Alloquar? audiero nunquam tua verba loquentem?_
_Nunquam ego te vita frater amabilior,_
_Aspiciam posthac? at certè semper amabo._’
CATUL., _Ele._ iv. 20, 92, 23,
95, 21, 94, 25; _El._ i. 9.
O brother reft from miserable me,
All our delight’s are perished with thee,
Which thy sweet love did nourish in my breath.
Thou all my good hast spoiled in thy death:
With thee my soul is all and whole enshrined,
At whose death I have cast out of mind
All my mind’s sweet-meats, studies of this kind;
Never shall I hear thee speak, speak with thee?
Thee, brother, than life dearer, never see?
Yet shalt thou ever be belov’d of me.
But let us a little hear this young man speak, being but sixteen years
of age.
[Sidenote: The author’s subject]
Because I have found this work to have since been published (and to an
ill end) by such as seek to trouble and subvert the state of our
common-wealth, nor caring whether they shall reform it or no; which they
have fondly inserted among other writings of their invention, I have
revoked my intent, which was to place it here. And lest the Author’s
memory should any way be interested with those that could not thoroughly
know his opinions and actions, they shall understand, that this subject
was by him treated of in his infancy, only by way of exercise, as a
subject, common, bare-worn, and wire-drawn in a thousand books. I will
never doubt but he believed what he writ, and writ as he thought: for he
was so conscientious, that no lie did ever pass his lips, yea, were it
but in matters
[Sidenote: A good citizen]
of sport or play: and I know, that had it been in his choice, he would
rather have been born at _Venice_ than at _Sarlac_; and good reason why:
But he had another maxim deeply imprinted in his mind, which was,
carefully to obey, and religiously to submit himself to the laws, under
which he was born. There was never a better Citizen, nor more affected
to the welfare and quietness of his country, nor a sharper enemy of the
changes, innovations, new-fangles, and hurly-burlies of his time: He
would more willingly have employed the utmost of his endeavours to
extinguish and suppress, than to favour or further them: His mind was
modelled to the pattern of other best ages.
XIII
IDEAL FRIENDSHIP
ANTHUSA TO ST. JOHN
IDEAL FRIENDSHIP
[Sidenote: Nothing comparable to a real friend]
A truly faithful friend is the medicine of life; a truly faithful
friend, a strong covering. For what would not a genuine friend do? what
pleasure would he not create for us? what profit? what safety? Though
thou wert to name a thousand treasures, there is nothing comparable to a
real friend. And first let us say how much pleasure friendship contains.
_The friend_ is bright with joy, and overflows when he sees his friend.
He is united to him according to an union having a certain ineffable
pleasure of the soul. But if he barely think of him, he rises and is
borne upwards in his mind. I speak of genuine friends, who are of one
accord, of those who would choose
[Sidenote: The grace imparted by friendship]
to die for their friends, of those who love warmly. Do not imagine, when
you think of those who love lightly, and are sharers of your tables, and
friends with whom you have a bowing acquaintance, that you can refute
this saying of mine. If any one have a friend such as I mention, he will
understand my words; and, though he should see his friend every day, he
is not filled _with seeing_ him. He makes the same prayers for him as
for himself. I know a certain man, who, when asking the holy man, on
behalf of his friend, asks him to pray first for the friend and then for
himself. A true friend is such that places and times are loved on his
account. For, as brilliant bodies shed a lustre upon the adjoining
places, even so friends impart their own grace to the places where they
may come. And oftentimes,
[Sidenote: The genuine friend]
when standing in those places without our friends, we have wept and
groaned, remembering the days when we were there along with them.
It is not possible to set forth in language the pleasure which the
presence of friends causes, but those only having experience know. One
can ask a favour, and receive a favour, from a friend without suspicion.
When they lay a command upon us, we are grateful to them; but when they
are slow to ask, then we are sad. We have nothing which is not theirs.
Often, though despising all things here, nevertheless, on their account,
we do not wish to depart from hence; and they are more desirable to us
than the light. And, truly, indeed, a friend is more desirable than the
light itself. I speak of the genuine friend: and
[Sidenote: Spiritual friends]
do not wonder; for it were better for us that the sun were extinguished,
than to be deprived of friends. It were better to live in darkness, than
to be without friends. And how do I say this? Because many seeing the
sun are in darkness. But those who are rich in friends, could never be
in tribulation. I speak of the spiritual friends who set nothing above
friendship. Such was Paul, who would willingly have given his own soul,
without having been asked, and would have willingly fallen into Hell.
With so burning an affection is it proper to love. I wish to give you an
example of friendship. Friends surpass fathers and sons, that is,
friends according to Christ.
Friendship is a great thing, and how great, no one could learn, nor
could any word explain, but only the experience of
[Sidenote: Friendship a great thing]
itself. For this (the absence of love) has brought heresies, this causes
the heathens to be heathens. He who loves does not wish to command nor
to rule, but he feels more grateful, being subject, and being commanded;
he wishes to confer favours rather than to receive them, for he loves,
and feels as if he had not gratified his desire. He is not so much
delighted at experiencing kindness as at doing kindness. For he prefers
to hold his friend bound to him, rather than he should be indebted to
his friend: or, rather, he wishes to be indebted to him, and also to
have him as a debtor. He wishes to confer favours upon, and not to seem
to confer favours, but to be his debtor.
When friendship does not exist, we upbraid _with_ our services those
whom we serve, and we exaggerate small things.
[Sidenote: Where friendship exists]
But where friendship does exist, we both conceal the services, and we
wish to show great things as small, in order that we may not seem to
have our friend a debtor, but that we ourselves may appear to be debtors
to him while we actually have him our debtor. I know that many do not
understand what is said, but the reason is, that I discourse of a thing
which now inhabits Heaven. As if, therefore, I spoke of some plant
growing in India, of which no one had experience, language could not
represent it, although I were to say ten thousand things; even so, now,
whatever I may say, I shall speak in vain, for no one will be able to
represent it. This plant has been planted in Heaven, having its branches
loaded, not with pearls, but with excelling life, which is much more
pleasing than those. But what kind of
[Sidenote: The true friend]
pleasure dost thou wish to speak of? Is it of disgraceful pleasure? Or
of virtuous pleasure? Now the pleasure of friendship exceeds all other
pleasures, even though thou shouldst say that of honey. For this latter
becomes mawkish, but a friend never, so long as he is a friend; but his
desire is rather increased, and this pleasure never admits of satiety. A
friend is sweeter than the present life. Therefore, many have not wished
to live any longer after the death of their friends. With a friend any
one could willingly endure banishment; but without a friend no one would
choose to inhabit even his own country. With a friend even poverty is
bearable, but without him health and wealth are unbearable. Such an one
has another self.
Nothing is the equal of concord, nor
[Sidenote: Nothing is the equal of concord]
of harmony. For one is thus equivalent to many. For, if two, or ten, be
unanimous, any one of them is no longer one, but each one of them
becomes of the value of ten; and you will find the one in the ten, and
the ten in the one. And if they have an enemy, attacking not one, but
ten, he is thus taken. For he is struck, not by one, but by ten mouths.
Has the one fallen into want? Still he is not in desolation; for he
abounds in his greater part; that is to say in the nine, and the needy
part is protected; _that is_, the smaller part by that which abounds.
Each one of them has twenty hands, and twenty eyes, and as many feet.
For he sees not with his own eyes alone, but with those of others; he
walks not with his own feet, but with those of others; he works not with
his own hands, but with
[Sidenote: Charity a wonderful thing]