Part 16

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,

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.

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

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,

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?

‘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.

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

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

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