I must not dim my eye
In thy saloon,
I must not leave my sky
And nightly moon.
Be not the fowler's net
Which stays my flight,
And craftily is set
T'allure the sight.
But be the favoring gale
That bears me on,
And still doth fill my sail
When thou art gone.
I cannot leave my sky
For thy caprice,
True love would soar as high
As heaven is.
The eagle would not brook
Her mate thus won,
Who trained his eye to look
Beneath the sun.
Few things are more difficult than to help a Friend in matters
which do not require the aid of Friendship, but only a cheap and
trivial service, if your Friendship wants the basis of a thorough
practical acquaintance. I stand in the friendliest relation, on
social and spiritual grounds, to one who does not perceive what
practical skill I have, but when he seeks my assistance in such
matters, is wholly ignorant of that one with whom he deals; does
not use my skill, which in such matters is much greater than his,
but only my hands. I know another, who, on the contrary, is
remarkable for his discrimination in this respect; who knows how
to make use of the talents of others when he does not possess the
same; knows when not to look after or oversee, and stops short at
his man. It is a rare pleasure to serve him, which all laborers
know. I am not a little pained by the other kind of treatment.
It is as if, after the friendliest and most ennobling intercourse,
your Friend should use you as a hammer, and drive a nail with
your head, all in good faith; notwithstanding that you are a
tolerable carpenter, as well as his good Friend, and would use a
hammer cheerfully in his service. This want of perception is a
defect which all the virtues of the heart cannot supply: -
The Good how can we trust?
Only the Wise are just.
The Good we use,
The Wise we cannot choose.
These there are none above;
The Good they know and love,
But are not known again
By those of lesser ken.
They do not charm us with their eyes,
But they transfix with their advice;
No partial sympathy they feel,
With private woe or private weal,
But with the universe joy and sigh,
Whose knowledge is their sympathy.
Confucius said: "To contract ties of Friendship with any one, is
to contract Friendship with his virtue. There ought not to be
any other motive in Friendship." But men wish us to contract
Friendship with their vice also. I have a Friend who wishes me
to see that to be right which I know to be wrong. But if
Friendship is to rob me of my eyes, if it is to darken the day, I
will have none of it. It should be expansive and inconceivably
liberalizing in its effects. True Friendship can afford true
knowledge. It does not depend on darkness and ignorance. A want
of discernment cannot be an ingredient in it. If I can see my
Friend's virtues more distinctly than another's, his faults too
are made more conspicuous by contrast. We have not so good a
right to hate any as our Friend. Faults are not the less faults
because they are invariably balanced by corresponding virtues,
and for a fault there is no excuse, though it may appear greater
than it is in many ways. I have never known one who could bear
criticism, who could not be flattered, who would not bribe his
judge, or was content that the truth should be loved always
better than himself.
If two travellers would go their way harmoniously together, the
one must take as true and just a view of things as the other,
else their path will not be strewn with roses. Yet you can
travel profitably and pleasantly even with a blind man, if he
practises common courtesy, and when you converse about the
scenery will remember that he is blind but that you can see; and
you will not forget that his sense of hearing is probably
quickened by his want of sight. Otherwise you will not long keep
company. A blind man, and a man in whose eyes there was no
defect, were walking together, when they came to the edge of a
precipice. "Take care! my friend," said the latter, "here is a
steep precipice; go no farther this way." - "I know better," said
the other, and stepped off.
It is impossible to say all that we think, even to our truest
Friend. We may bid him farewell forever sooner than complain,
for our complaint is too well grounded to be uttered. There is
not so good an understanding between any two, but the exposure by
the one of a serious fault in the other will produce a
misunderstanding in proportion to its heinousness. The
constitutional differences which always exist, and are obstacles
to a perfect Friendship, are forever a forbidden theme to the
lips of Friends. They advise by their whole behavior. Nothing
can reconcile them but love. They are fatally late when they
undertake to explain and treat with one another like foes. Who
will take an apology for a Friend? They must apologize like dew
and frost, which are off again with the sun, and which all men
know in their hearts to be beneficent. The necessity itself for
explanation, - what explanation will atone for that?
True love does not quarrel for slight reasons, such mistakes as
mutual acquaintances can explain away, but, alas, however slight
the apparent cause, only for adequate and fatal and everlasting
reasons, which can never be set aside.
