The higher the style we demand of friendship, of course the less easy to
establish it with flesh and blood. We walk alone in the world. Friends such as
we desire are dreams and fables. But a sublime hope cheers ever the faithful
heart, that elsewhere, in other regions of the universal power, souls are now
acting, enduring, and daring, which can love us and which we can love. We may
congratulate ourselves that the period of nonage, of follies, of blunders and of
shame, is passed in solitude, and when we are finished men we shall grasp heroic
hands in heroic hands. Only be admonished by what you already see, not to strike
leagues of friendship with cheap persons, where no friendship can be. Our
impatience betrays us into rash and foolish alliances which no god attends. By
persisting in your path, though you forfeit the little you gain the great. You
demonstrate yourself, so as to put yourself out of the reach of false relations,
and you draw to you the first-born of the world,--those rare pilgrims whereof
only one or two wander in nature at once, and before whom the vulgar great show
as spectres and shadows merely.
It is foolish to be afraid of making our ties too spiritual, as if so we could
lose any genuine love. Whatever correction of our popular views we make from
insight, nature will be sure to bear us out in, and though it seem to rob us of
some joy, will repay us with a greater. Let us feel if we will the absolute
insulation of man. We are sure that we have all in us. We go to Europe, or we
pursue persons, or we read books, in the instinctive faith that these will call
it out and reveal us to ourselves. Beggars all. The persons are such as we; the
Europe, an old faded garment of dead persons; the books, their ghosts. Let us
drop this idolatry. Let us give over this mendicancy. Let us even bid our
dearest friends farewell, and defy them, saying, 'Who are you? Unhand me: I will
be dependent no more.' Ah! seest thou not, O brother, that thus we part only to
meet again on a higher platform, and only be more each other's because we are
more our own? A friend is Janus-faced; he looks to the past and the future. He
is the child of all my foregoing hours, the prophet of those to come, and the
harbinger of a greater friend.
I do then with my friends as I do with my books. I would have them where I can
find them, but I seldom use them. We must have society on our own terms, and
admit or exclude it on the slightest cause. I cannot afford to speak much with
my friend. If he is great he makes me so great that I cannot descend to
converse. In the great days, presentiments hover before me in the firmament. I
ought then to dedicate myself to them. I go in that I may seize them, I go out
that I may seize them. I fear only that I may lose them receding into the sky in
which now they are only a patch of brighter light. Then, though I prize my
friends, I cannot afford to talk with them and study their visions, lest I lose
my own. It would indeed give me a certain household joy to quit this lofty
seeking, this spiritual astronomy or search of stars, and come down to warm
sympathies with you; but then I know well I shall mourn always the vanishing of
my mighty gods. It is true, next week I shall have languid moods, when I can
well afford to occupy myself with foreign objects; then I shall regret the lost
literature of your mind, and wish you were by my side again. But if you come,
perhaps you will fill my mind only with new visions; not with yourself but with
your lustres, and I shall not be able any more than now to converse with you. So
I will owe to my friends this evanescent intercourse. I will receive from them
not what they have but what they are. They shall give me that which properly
they cannot give, but which emanates from them. But they shall not hold me by
any relations less subtile and pure. We will meet as though we met not, and part
as though we parted not.
It has seemed to me lately more possible than I knew, to carry a friendship
greatly, on one side, without due correspondence on the other. Why should I
cumber myself with regrets that the receiver is not capacious? It never troubles
the sun that some of his rays fall wide and vain into ungrateful space, and only
a small part on the reflecting planet. Let your greatness educate the crude and
cold companion. If he is unequal he will presently pass away; but thou art
enlarged by thy own shining, and no longer a mate for frogs and worms, dost soar
and burn with the gods of the empyrean. It is thought a disgrace to love
unrequited. But the great will see that true love cannot be unrequited. True
love transcends the unworthy object and dwells and broods on the eternal, and
when the poor interposed mask crumbles, it is not sad, but feels rid of so much
earth and feels its independency the surer. Yet these things may hardly be said
without a sort of treachery to the relation. The essence of friendship is
entireness, a total magnanimity and trust. It must not surmise or provide for
infirmity. It treats its object as a god, that it may deify both.
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