Who Does Not Walk On The Plain As Amid The Columns Of Tadmore Of
The Desert?
There is on the earth no institution which
Friendship has established; it is not taught by any religion; no
scripture contains its maxims.
It has no temple, nor even a
solitary column. There goes a rumor that the earth is inhabited,
but the shipwrecked mariner has not seen a footprint on the
shore. The hunter has found only fragments of pottery and the
monuments of inhabitants.
However, our fates at least are social. Our courses do not
diverge; but as the web of destiny is woven it is fulled, and we
are cast more and more into the centre. Men naturally, though
feebly, seek this alliance, and their actions faintly foretell
it. We are inclined to lay the chief stress on likeness and not
on difference, and in foreign bodies we admit that there are many
degrees of warmth below blood heat, but none of cold above it.
Mencius says: "If one loses a fowl or a dog, he knows well how to
seek them again; if one loses the sentiments of his heart, he
does not know how to seek them again. . . . The duties of
practical philosophy consist only in seeking after those
sentiments of the heart which we have lost; that is all."
One or two persons come to my house from time to time, there
being proposed to them the faint possibility of intercourse.
They are as full as they are silent, and wait for my plectrum to
stir the strings of their lyre. If they could ever come to the
length of a sentence, or hear one, on that ground they are
dreaming of! They speak faintly, and do not obtrude themselves.
They have heard some news, which none, not even they themselves,
can impart. It is a wealth they can bear about them which can be
expended in various ways. What came they out to seek?
No word is oftener on the lips of men than Friendship, and indeed
no thought is more familiar to their aspirations. All men are
dreaming of it, and its drama, which is always a tragedy, is
enacted daily. It is the secret of the universe. You may thread
the town, you may wander the country, and none shall ever speak
of it, yet thought is everywhere busy about it, and the idea of
what is possible in this respect affects our behavior toward all
new men and women, and a great many old ones. Nevertheless, I
can remember only two or three essays on this subject in all
literature. No wonder that the Mythology, and Arabian Nights,
and Shakespeare, and Scott's novels entertain us, - we are poets
and fablers and dramatists and novelists ourselves. We are
continually acting a part in a more interesting drama than any
written. We are dreaming that our Friends are our _Friends_ ,
and that we are our Friends' _Friends_. Our actual Friends are
but distant relations of those to whom we are pledged. We never
exchange more than three words with a Friend in our lives on that
level to which our thoughts and feelings almost habitually rise.
One goes forth prepared to say, "Sweet Friends!" and the
salutation is, "Damn your eyes!" But never mind; faint heart
never won true Friend. O my Friend, may it come to pass once,
that when you are my Friend I may be yours.
Of what use the friendliest dispositions even, if there are
no hours given to Friendship, if it is forever postponed to
unimportant duties and relations? Friendship is first, Friendship
last. But it is equally impossible to forget our Friends, and to
make them answer to our ideal. When they say farewell, then
indeed we begin to keep them company. How often we find
ourselves turning our backs on our actual Friends, that we may go
and meet their ideal cousins. I would that I were worthy to be
any man's Friend.
What is commonly honored with the name of Friendship is no very
profound or powerful instinct. Men do not, after all, _love_
their Friends greatly. I do not often see the farmers made seers
and wise to the verge of insanity by their Friendship for one
another. They are not often transfigured and translated by love
in each other's presence. I do not observe them purified,
refined, and elevated by the love of a man. If one abates a
little the price of his wood, or gives a neighbor his vote at
town-meeting, or a barrel of apples, or lends him his wagon
frequently, it is esteemed a rare instance of Friendship. Nor do
the farmers' wives lead lives consecrated to Friendship. I do
not see the pair of farmer Friends of either sex prepared to
stand against the world. There are only two or three couples in
history. To say that a man is your Friend, means commonly no
more than this, that he is not your enemy. Most contemplate only
what would be the accidental and trifling advantages of
Friendship, as that the Friend can assist in time of need, by his
substance, or his influence, or his counsel; but he who foresees
such advantages in this relation proves himself blind to its real
advantage, or indeed wholly inexperienced in the relation itself.
Such services are particular and menial, compared with the
perpetual and all-embracing service which it is. Even the utmost
good-will and harmony and practical kindness are not sufficient
for Friendship, for Friends do not live in harmony merely, as
some say, but in melody. We do not wish for Friends to feed and
clothe our bodies, - neighbors are kind enough for that, - but to
do the like office to our spirits. For this few are rich enough,
however well disposed they may be. For the most part we stupidly
confound one man with another. The dull distinguish only races
or nations, or at most classes, but the wise man, individuals.
To his Friend a man's peculiar character appears in every feature
and in every action, and it is thus drawn out and improved by
him.
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