IT HAD been hard for him that spake it to have
put more truth and untruth together in few
words, than in that speech, Whatsoever is delighted
in solitude, is either a wild beast or a god. For it is
most true, that a natural and secret hatred, and
aversation towards society, in any man, hath
somewhat of the savage beast; but it is most un-
true, that it should have any character at all, of the
divine nature; except it proceed, not out of a pleas-
ure in solitude, but out of a love and desire to
sequester a man's self, for a higher conversation:
such as is found to have been falsely and feignedly
in some of the heathen; as Epimenides the Can-
dian, Numa the Roman, Empedocles the Sicilian,
and Apollonius of Tyana; and truly and really, in
divers of the ancient hermits and holy fathers of
the church. But little do men perceive what soli-
tude is, and how far it extendeth. For a crowd is
not company; and faces are but a gallery of pic-
tures; and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where
there is no love. The Latin adage meeteth with it a
little: Magna civitas, magna solitudo; because in
a great town friends are scattered; so that there is
not that fellowship, for the most part, which is in
less neighborhoods. But we may go further, and
affirm most truly, that it is a mere and miserable
solitude to want true friends; without which the
world is but a wilderness; and even in this sense
also of solitude, whosoever in the frame of his
nature and affections, is unfit for friendship, he
taketh it of the beast, and not from humanity.
A principal fruit of friendship, is the ease and
discharge of the fulness and swellings of the heart,
which passions of all kinds do cause and induce.
We know diseases of stoppings, and suffocations,
are the most dangerous in the body; and it is not
much otherwise in the mind; you may take sarza
to open the liver, steel to open the spleen, flowers
of sulphur for the lungs, castoreum for the brain;
but no receipt openeth the heart, but a true friend;
to whom you may impart griefs, joys, fears, hopes,
suspicions, counsels, and whatsoever lieth upon
the heart to oppress it, in a kind of civil shrift or
confession.
It is a strange thing to observe, how high a rate
great kings and monarchs do set upon this fruit of
friendship, whereof we speak: so great, as they
purchase it, many times, at the hazard of their
own safety and greatness. For princes, in regard
of the distance of their fortune from that of their
subjects and servants, cannot gather this fruit, ex-
cept (to make themselves capable thereof) they
raise some persons to be, as it were, companions
and almost equals to themselves, which many
times sorteth to inconvenience. The modern lan-
guages give unto such persons the name of favor-
ites, or privadoes; as if it were matter of grace, or
conversation. But the Roman name attaineth the
true use and cause thereof, naming them parti-
cipes curarum; for it is that which tieth the knot.
And we see plainly that this hath been done, not
by weak and passionate princes only, but by the
wisest and most politic that ever reigned; who
have oftentimes joined to themselves some of
their servants; whom both themselves have called
friends, and allowed other likewise to call them in
the same manner; using the word which is re-
ceived between private men.
L. Sylla, when he commanded Rome, raised
Pompey (after surnamed the Great) to that height,
that Pompey vaunted himself for Sylla's over-
match. For when he had carried the consulship for
a friend of his, against the pursuit of Sylla, and
that Sylla did a little resent thereat, and began to
speak great, Pompey turned upon him again, and
in effect bade him be quiet; for that more men
adored the sun rising, than the sun setting. With
Julius Caesar, Decimus Brutus had obtained that
interest as he set him down in his testament, for
heir in remainder, after his nephew. And this was
the man that had power with him, to draw him
forth to his death. For when Caesar would have
discharged the senate, in regard of some ill pres-
ages, and specially a dream of Calpurnia; this
man lifted him gently by the arm out of his chair,
telling him he hoped he would not dismiss the
senate, till his wife had dreamt a better dream.
And it seemeth his favor was so great, as Antonius,
in a letter which is recited verbatim in one of
Cicero's Philippics, calleth him venefica, witch;
as if he had enchanted Caesar. Augustus raised
Agrippa (though of mean birth) to that height, as
when he consulted with Maecenas, about the mar-
riage of his daughter Julia, Maecenas took the
liberty to tell him, that he must either marry his
daughter to Agrippa, or take away his life; there
was no third way, he had made him so great. With
Tiberius Caesar, Sejanus had ascended to that
height, as they two were termed, and reckoned, as
a pair of friends. Tiberius in a letter to him saith,
Haec pro amicitia nostra non occultavi; and the
whole senate dedicated an altar to Friendship, as
to a goddess, in respect of the great dearness of
friendship, between them two. The like, or more,
was between Septimius Severus and Plautianus.
For he forced his eldest son to marry the daughter
of Plautianus; and would often maintain Plau-
tianus, in doing affronts to his son; and did write
also in a letter to the senate, by these words: I love
the man so well, as I wish he may over-live me.
Now if these princes had been as a Trajan, or a
Marcus Aurelius, a man might have thought that
this had proceeded of an abundant goodness of
nature; but being men so wise, of such strength
and severity of mind, and so extreme lovers of
themselves, as all these were, it proveth most
plainly that they found their own felicity (though
as great as ever happened to mortal men) but as
an half piece, except they mought have a friend,
to make it entire; and yet, which is more, they
were princes that had wives, sons, nephews; and
yet all these could not supply the comfort of friend-
ship.
It is not to be forgotten, what Comineus observ-
eth of his first master, Duke Charles the Hardy,
namely, that he would communicate his secrets
with none; and least of all, those secrets which
troubled him most. Whereupon he goeth on, and
saith that towards his latter time, that closeness
did impair, and a little perish his understanding.
Surely Comineus mought have made the same
judgment also, if it had pleased him, of his second
master, Lewis the Eleventh, whose closeness was
indeed his tormentor. The parable of Pythagoras
is dark, but true; Cor ne edito; Eat not the heart.
Certainly, if a man would give it a hard phrase,
those that want friends, to open themselves unto,
are carnnibals of their own hearts. But one thing
is most admirable (wherewith I will conclude this
first fruit of friendship), which is, that this com-
municating of a man's self to his friend, works
two contrary effects; for it redoubleth joys, and
cutteth griefs in halves. For there is no man, that
imparteth his joys to his friend, but he joyeth the
more; and no man that imparteth his griefs to his
friend, but he grieveth the less. So that it is in truth,
of operation upon a man's mind, of like virtue as
the alchemists use to attribute to their stone, for
man's body; that it worketh all contrary effects,
but still to the good and benefit of nature. But yet
without praying in aid of alchemists, there is a
manifest image of this, in the ordinary course of
nature. For in bodies, union strengtheneth and
cherisheth any natural action; and on the other
side, weakeneth and dulleth any violent impres-
sion: and even so it is of minds.
The second fruit of friendship, is healthful and
sovereign for the understanding, as the first is for
the affections. For friendship maketh indeed a fair
day in the affections, from storm and tempests; but
it maketh daylight in the understanding, out of
darkness, and confusion of thoughts. Neither is
this to be understood only of faithful counsel,
which a man receiveth from his friend; but before
you come to that, certain it is, that whosoever hath
his mind fraught with many thoughts, his wits
and understanding do clarify and break up, in the
communicating and discoursing with another; he
tosseth his thoughts more easily; he marshalleth
them more orderly, he seeth how they look when
they are turned into words: finally, he waxeth
wiser than himself; and that more by an hour's
discourse, than by a day's meditation. It was well
said by Themistocles, to the king of Persia, That
speech was like cloth of Arras, opened and put
abroad; whereby the imagery doth appear in
figure; whereas in thoughts they lie but as in
packs. Neither is this second fruit of friendship, in
opening the understanding, restrained only to
such friends as are able to give a man counsel;
(they indeed are best;) but even without that, a
man learneth of himself, and bringeth his own
thoughts to light, and whetteth his wits as against
a stone, which itself cuts not. In a word, a man
were better relate himself to a statua, or picture,
than to suffer his thoughts to pass in smother.
Add now, to make this second fruit of friendship
complete, that other point, which lieth more open,
and falleth within vulgar observation; which is
faithful counsel from a friend. Heraclitus saith
well in one of his enigmas, Dry light is ever the
best. And certain it is, that the light that a man
receiveth by counsel from another, is drier and
purer, than that which cometh from his own
understanding and judgment; which is ever in-
fused, and drenched, in his affections and customs.
So as there is as much difference between the coun-
sel, that a friend giveth, and that a man giveth
himself, as there is between the counsel of a friend,
and of a flatterer. For there is no such flatterer as
is a man's self; and there is no such remedy against
flattery of a man's self, as the liberty of a friend.
Counsel is of two sorts: the one concerning man-
ners, the other concerning business. For the first,
the best preservative to keep the mind in health, is
the faithful admonition of a friend. The calling of
a man's self to a strict account, is a medicine, some-
time too piercing and corrosive. Reading good
books of morality, is a little flat and dead. Observ-
ing our faults in others, is sometimes improper for
our case. But the best receipt (best, I say, to work,
and best to take) is the admonition of a friend.
It is a strange thing to behold, what gross errors
and extreme absurdities many (especially of the
greater sort) do commit, for want of a friend to tell
them of them; to the great damage both of their
fame and fortune: for, as St. James saith, they are
as men that look sometimes into a glass, and pres-
ently forget their own shape and favor. As for
business, a man may think, if he win, that two
eyes see no more than one; or that a gamester seeth
always more than a looker-on; or that a man in
anger, is as wise as he that hath said over the four
and twenty letters; or that a musket may be shot
off as well upon the arm, as upon a rest; and such
other fond and high imaginations, to think him-
self all in all. But when all is done, the help of good
counsel, is that which setteth business straight.
And if any man think that he will take counsel,
but it shall be by pieces; asking counsel in one
business, of one man, and in another business, of
another man; it is well (that is to say, better, per-
haps, than if he asked none at all); but he runneth
two dangers: one, that he shall not be faithfully
counselled; for it is a rare thing, except it be from
a perfect and entire friend, to have counsel given,
but such as shall be bowed and crooked to some
ends, which he hath, that giveth it. The other, that
he shall have counsel given, hurtful and unsafe
(though with good meaning), and mixed partly of
mischief and partly of remedy; even as if you
would call a physician, that is thought good for
the cure of the disease you complain of, but is unac-
quainted with your body; and therefore may put
you in way for a present cure, but overthroweth
your health in some other kind; and so cure the
disease, and kill the patient. But a friend that is
wholly acquainted with a man's estate, will be-
ware, by furthering any present business, how he
dasheth upon other inconvenience. And therefore
rest not upon scattered counsels; they will rather
distract and mislead, than settle and direct.
After these two noble fruits of friendship (peace
in the affections, and support of the judgment),
followeth the last fruit; which is like the pome-
granate, full of many kernels; I mean aid, and
bearing a part, in all actions and occasions. Here
the best way to represent to life the manifold use
of friendship, is to cast and see how many things
there are, which a man cannot do himself; and
then it will appear, that it was a sparing speech of
the ancients, to say, that a friend is another him-
self; for that a friend is far more than himself.
Men have their time, and die many times, in de-
sire of some things which they principally take to
heart; the bestowing of a child, the finishing of a
work, or the like. If a man have a true friend, he
may rest almost secure that the care of those things
will continue after him. So that a man hath, as it
were, two lives in his desires. A man hath a body,
and that body is confined to a place; but where
friendship is, all offices of life are as it were granted
to him, and his deputy. For he may exercise them
by his friend. How many things are there which
a man cannot, with any face or comeliness, say or
do himself? A man can scarce allege his own
merits with modesty, much less extol them; a man
cannot sometimes brook to supplicate or beg; and
a number of the like. But all these things are grace-
ful, in a friend's mouth, which are blushing in a
man's own. So again, a man's person hath many
proper relations, which he cannot put off. A man
cannot speak to his son but as a father; to his wife
but as a husband; to his enemy but upon terms:
whereas a friend may speak as the case requires,
and not as it sorteth with the person. But to enu-
merate these things were endless; I have given the
rule, where a man cannot fitly play his own part;
if he have not a friend, he may quit the stage.
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