but be laughed at and disgraced, and endure many scurrilous and
virulent reflections; he must also encounter ignorance and wrestle with
it with all the strength of his mind, and subdue it too.
Neither on the other hand must the faults be passed by which some
troublesome people commit out of mere laziness and negligence; such
men as will not bestow any pains in considering themselves, but asking
often the same questions are a perpetual vexation to the speaker;
like callow birds always gaping at the bill of the old one, and still
reaching after what has been prepared and worked over by others.
Another sort there are, who, affecting the reputation of quickness
and attention, confound the speaker with their pragmatical curiosity
and jargon, always haling in something unnecessary and requiring
demonstrations of things foreign to the business in hand.
Thus a short way is long and tedious made,
as Sophocles[186] says, and that not only to themselves, but others
also. For by taking off the speaker with vain and unnecessary questions
they retard the progress of instruction, like travellers in the road,
by impertinent halts and stops. Hieronymus compares these men to lazy
and greedy curs, which within doors bite and tear the skins of wild
animals and lie tugging at their shaggy hair, but in the field dare not
fasten upon beasts themselves.
_A Concluding Exhortation._
Yet one exhortation let me leave with these people, that having
received the general heads of things they would supply the rest by
their own industry, making their memory a guide to their invention;
and that, looking on the discourse of others only as a kind of first
principle or seed, they would take care to cherish and increase it.
For the mind requires not like an earthen vessel to be filled up;
convenient fuel and aliment only will inflame it with a desire of
knowledge and ardent love of truth. Now, as it would be with a man who,
going to his neighbor’s to borrow fire and finding there a great and
bright fire, should sit down to warm himself and forget to go home; so
is it with the one who comes to another to learn, if he does not think
himself obliged to kindle his own fire within and inflame his own mind,
but continues sitting by his master as if he were enchanted, delighted
by hearing. Such a one, although he may get the name of a philosopher,
as we get a bright color by sitting by the fire, will never clear
away the mould and rust of his mind, and dispel the darkness of his
understanding by the help of philosophy. In fine, if there is any
other precept concerning hearing, it is briefly this, to be careful
in observing the last exhortation,—that is, to join the exercise of
our invention to our hearing; that so, while we lay down the rule that
hearing well is the first step to living well, we may not content
ourselves with a superficial commonplace knowledge, but endeavor after
such a philosophical habit as shall be deeply imprinted on the mind.
OF LARGE ACQUAINTANCE; OR, AN ESSAY TO PROVE THE FOLLY OF SEEKING MANY
FRIENDS.
1. Menon the Thessalian, a person who had no mean opinion of his
own parts, who thought himself well accomplished in all the arts of
discourse and to have reached (as Empedocles words it) the highest
pitch of wisdom, was asked by Socrates, What is virtue? And he answered
readily enough, and as impertinently, that there is one virtue
belonging to childhood, another to old age; that there are distinct
virtues in men and women, magistrates and private persons, masters and
servants. Excellently well! replied Socrates in raillery, when you were
asked about one virtue, you have raised, as it were, a whole swarm;
conjecturing, not without reason, that the man therefore named many
because he knew the nature of none. And may not we ourselves expect
and deserve as justly to be scoffed and rallied, who having not yet
contracted one firm friendship seem nevertheless exceeding cautious of
too many? It is almost the same thing as if one maimed and blind should
appear solicitous lest like Briareus he may chance to be furnished
with a hundred hands, and become all over eyes like Argus. However, we
cannot but extol the sense of that young man in Menander the poet, who
said that he counted every man wonderfully honest and happy who had
found even the shadow of a friend.
2. But all the difficulty lies in finding him; and the chiefest reason
is that, instead of one choice true friend, nothing under a multitude
will content us; like women of the town who admit the embraces of all
gallants that come, at the gay appearance of the last which comes we
neglect and slight the former, and so are unable to hold them. Or
rather, like the foster-child of Hypsipyle, who “in a green meadow
sat cropping the flowers one after another, snatching each prize
with delighted heart, insatiable in his childish joy,”[187]—so we
of riper years, from an inbred affection of novelty and disdain of
things already possessed, take up presently with the first promising
aspect of every fresh and new-blooming friend, and lay all at once the
foundations of several acquaintances; but we leave each unfinished, and
when we have scarce fixed on one, our love immediately palls there,
while we passionately pursue some other.
Wherefore, in this affair,—to begin at the beginning (at the domestic
altar, as the saying is),—let us ask the opinion and counsel of our
forefathers, and consider what report the records of antiquity make
concerning true friends. They are, we find, always reckoned in pairs;
as Theseus and Pirithous, Achilles and Patroclus, Orestes and Pylades,
Phintias and Damon, Epaminondas and Pelopidas. Friendship (so to speak)
is a creature sociable, but affects not a herd or a flock; and that we
usually esteem a friend another self, and call him ἑταῖρος (companion)
as much as to say ἕτερος (the other one), is a convincing argument that
the number two is the adequate and complete measure of friendship. And
in truth, a great number of friends or servants is not to be purchased
at an easy rate. That which procures love and friendship in the world
is a sweet and obliging temper of mind, a lively readiness in doing
good offices, together with a constant habit of virtue; than which
qualifications nothing is more rarely found in nature. Therefore to
love and to be beloved much can have no place in a multitude; but the
most eager affection, if divided among numerous objects, like a river
divided into several channels, must needs flow at length very weak and
languid. Upon this score, those animals love their young most which
generate but one; and Homer, describing a beloved child, calls it the
only-begotten and born in old age,—that is, at such a time when the
parents neither have nor hope for another.[188]
3. Yet I do not assert we ought to confine ourselves to one only
friend; but among the rest, there should be one eminently so, like
a well-beloved and only son, not casually picked up at a tavern or
eating-house or in a tennis-court, nor at a game of hazard, nor at an
accidental meeting in the wrestling-place or the market,—as is too
common nowadays,—but one chosen upon long and mature deliberation,
with whom (according to that celebrated proverb) we have eaten a bushel
of salt.
The palaces of noble men and princes appear guarded with splendid
retinues of diligent obsequious servants, and every room is crowded
with a throng of visitors, who caress the great man with all the
endearing gestures and expressions that wit and breeding can invent;
and it may be thought, I confess, at first sight, that such are very
fortunate in having so many cordial, real friends at their command;
whereas it is all bare pageantry and show. Change the scene, and you
may observe a far greater number of flies as industriously busy in
their kitchens; and as these would vanish, were the dishes empty and
clean, so neither would that other sort of insect pay any farther
respect, were nothing to be got by it.
There are chiefly these requisites to a true friendship: virtue, as a
thing lovely and desirable; familiarity, as pleasant; and advantage,
as necessary. For we must first choose a friend upon a right judgment
made of his excellent qualities; having chosen him, we must perceive a
pleasure in his conversation, and upon occasion he must be useful to us
in our concerns. All which (especially judgment in our choice, the main
point of all) are inconsistent with a numerous acquaintance.
And first of all (to draw a parallel in other matters), if there is no
small time required to select a great many persons together who can
dance and sing in exact time to the same tune, manage oars with a like
strength and vigor, be fit stewards of our estates or tutors of our
children, certainly we must acknowledge it much more difficult to meet
with a considerable number of friends, ready to enter with us the trial
of all manner of fortune, of whom every one will
Of his good fortune yield thy part to thee,
And bear like part of thy calamity.
Even a ship at sea runs not the risk of so many storms, nor are any
castles, forts, and havens secured with walls, ramparts, and dams
against the apprehension of so many dangers, as are the misfortunes
against which a constant approved friendship mutually undertakes to
afford a defence and refuge. Whoever without due trial put themselves
upon us for friends we examine as bad money; and the cheat being
discovered, we are glad if of their own accord they withdraw; or if
they persist, at least we wish with great impatience fairly to get rid
of them.[189] Yet we must own it is a hard and troublesome task to
cast off a disagreeable acquaintance; for as unwholesome meats which
nauseate the stomach can neither be retained without hazard of health,
nor yet ejected sincere as they were taken, but wholly disguised and
defiled with other humors; so a mistaken false friend must either be
still entertained, and remain a mere vexation to us as well as uneasy
to himself, or else by a kind of convulsion be thrown up like bile,
leaving behind the continual torment of private grudgings and hatred.
4. Therefore it highly concerns us not to be too rash in fastening on
the next that may accidentally offer, nor presently to affect every one
that pretends to be fond of our friendship. Let the search rather begin
on our own part, and our choice fix on those who approve themselves
really worthy of our respect. What is cheap and with ease obtained is
below our notice; and we trample under foot bushes and brambles that
readily catch hold of us, while we diligently clear our way to the
vine and olive; so it is always best not to admit to our familiarity
persons who officiously stick and twist themselves about us, but we
ought rather of our own accord to court the friendship of those who are
worthy of our regard, and who prove advantageous to ourselves.
5. Therefore, as Zeuxis replied to some who blamed the slowness of his
pencil,—that he therefore spent a long time in painting, because he
designed his work should last for a long eternity,—so he that would
secure a lasting friendship and acquaintance must first deliberately
judge and thoroughly try its worth, before he settles it. Suppose then
it is hard to make a right judgment in choosing many friends together,
it may still be asked whether we may not maintain a familiarity with
many persons, or whether that too is impossible. Now familiarity and
converse are the genuine products and enjoyments of true friendship,
and the highest pleasure the best friends aim at is continual
intercourse and the daily frequenting one another’s company.
No more shall meet Achilles and his friend;
No more our thoughts to those we loved make known,
Or quit the dearest, to converse alone.[190]