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FRIEMP 
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 EY HEMRY 
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 Copyright, 1910 
 
 By 
 Elbert Hubbard 
 
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 FRIENDSHIP 
 
HILE we float here, far from 
 that tributary stream on 
 whose banks our friends and 
 kindred dwell, our thoughts, 
 like the stars, come out of 
 their horizon still; for there 
 !• circulates a finer blood than 
 Lavoisier has discovered the 
 laws of— the blood, not of 
 kindred merely, but of 
 kindness whose pulse still 
 beats at any distance and 
 forever. After years of vain 
 familiarity, some distant 
 gesture or unconscious behavior, which w^e 
 remember, speaks to us w^ith more emphasis than 
 the wisest or kindest words. We are sometimes 
 made aware of a kindness long passed, and realize 
 that there have been times w^hen our friends' 
 thoughts of us were of so pure and lofty a 
 character that they passed over us like the w^inds 
 of heaven unnoticed; w^hen they treated us not 
 as what we were, but as what we aspired to be. 
 There has just reached us, it may be, the 
 nobleness of some such silent behavior, not to be 
 forgotten, not to be remembered, and we shudder 
 to think how^ it fell on us cold, though in some 
 true but tardy hour w^e endeavor to w^ipe off 
 these scores. 
 
 In my experience, persons, when they are made 
 the subject of conversation, though w^ith a friend, 
 are commonly the most prosaic and trivial of 
 facts. The universe seems bankrupt as soon as 
 we begin to discuss the character of individuals. 
 Our discourse all runs to slander, and our limits 
 
 9 
 

 grow narrow^er as we advance. How is it that w 
 are impelled to treat our old friends so ill when 
 we obtain new ones? The housekeeper says, *' I 
 never had any new crockery in my life but I 
 began to break the old." I say, let us speak of 
 mushrooms and forest-trees, rather. Yet, we can 
 sometimes afford to remember them in private. 
 C Friendship is evanescent in every man's 
 experience, and remembered like heat-lightning 
 in past Summers. Fair and flitting, like a Summer 
 cloud, there is alw^ays some vapor in the air, no 
 matter how long the drought; there are even 
 April showier s J2*. Surely from time to time, for 
 its vestiges never depart, it floats through our 
 atmosphere. It takes place, like vegetation, in so 
 many materials, because there is such a law^, but 
 always without permanent form, though ancient . 
 and familiar as the sun and moon, and as sure to 
 come again. The heart is forever inexperienced. 
 They silently gather, as by magic, these never 
 failing, never quite deceiving visions, like the 
 bright and fleecy clouds in the calmest and clearest 
 days iSv The Friend is some fair, floating isle of 
 palms eluding the mariner in Pacific seas. Many 
 are the dangers to be encountered, equinoctial 
 gales and coral-reefs, ere he may sail before the 
 constant trades. But w^ho w^ould not sail through 
 mutiny and storm, even over Atlantic waves, to 
 reach the fabulous, retreating shores of some 
 continent man ? 
 
 Columbus has sailed Westw^ard of these isles, 
 by the mariner's compass, but neither he nor his 
 successors have found them. We are no nearer 
 than Plato w^as. The earnest seeker and hopeful 
 discoverer of this New^ 'World alw^ays haunts 
 
 10 
 
the outskirts of his time, and walks through the 
 densest crowd uninterrupted, and, as it w^ere, in 
 a straight line. 
 
 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 w^eb of destiny 
 is woven it is fulled, and we are cast more and 
 more into the center S*. 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 
 w^armth below^ blood-heat, but none of cold 
 above it. 
 
 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 new^s which none, not even they 
 themselves, can impart. It is a w^ealth they bear 
 about them which can be expended in various 
 
 ways. W^hat came they out to seek ? 
 
 11 
 
No word is oftener on tlie lips of men thani 
 Friendship, and indeed no thought is more 
 familiar to their aspirations iS^ 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 everyw^here 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 tw^o or three essays on this 
 subject in all literature ^ No "wonder that the 
 Mythology, and Arabian Nights, and Scott's 
 novels and Shakespeare entertain us— we are 
 poets and fablers and novelists and dramatists 
 ourselves. We are continually acting a part in a 
 more interesting drama than any w^ritten. 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 \vhom 
 we are pledged. We never exchange more than 
 three w^ords w^ith a Friend in our lives on that 
 level to which our thoughts and feelings almost 
 habitually rise. One goes forth prepared to say, 
 ** Sw^eet Friends ! " and the salutation is, **Damn 
 your eyes !" But, never mind; faint heart never 
 w^on true Friend, O my Friend, may it come to 
 pass, once, that when you are my Friend I may 
 be yours, v 
 
 Of what use the friendliest disposition 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, 
 
 u 
 
and to make them answer to our ideal. "When 
 they say farewell, then indeed w^e 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 3k 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 S*. Most 
 contemplate only ^vhat 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 w^ho foresees such advantages in this relation 
 proves himself blind to its real advantage, or 
 indeed w^holly inexperienced in the relation itself. 
 Such services are particular and menial, compared 
 w^ith the perpetual and all-embracing service 
 w^hich it is S*. Even the utmost good w^ill and 
 
 13 
 
harmony and practical kindness are not sufficient 
 for Friendship, for Friencls do not live in harmony 
 merely, as some say, but in melody. We do not 
 wish for Friends to clothe and feed our bodies 
 (neighbors are kind enough for that), but to do 
 the like office to our spirits. For this, few are rich 
 enough, however w^ell disposed they may be. 
 €L Think of the importance of Friendship in the 
 education of men. It w^ill make a man honest; it 
 will make him a hero; it will make him a saint. 
 It is the state of the just dealing with the just, 
 the magnanimous w^ith the magnanimous, the 
 sincere w^ith the sincere, man with man. 
 
 " Why love amon^ the virtues is not known. 
 Is that love is them all contract in one." 
 
 All the abuses which are the object of reform 
 with the philanthropist, the statesman and the 
 housekeeper, are unconsciously amended in the 
 intercourse of Friends ^ A Friend is one w^ho 
 incessantly pays us the compliment of expecting 
 from us all the virtues, and who can appreciate 
 them in us. It takes tw^o to speak the truth— one 
 to speak, and another to hear. How can one treat 
 w^ith magnanimity mere w^ood and stone ? If we 
 dealt only w^ith the false and dishonest, w^e 
 should at last forget how to speak truth. In our 
 daily intercourse with men, our nobler faculties 
 are dormant and suffered to rust. None w^ill pay 
 us the compliment to expect nobleness from us. 
 "We ask our neighbor to suffer himself to be dealt 
 w^ith truly, sincerely, nobly; but he answ^ers 
 **No," by his deafness. He does not even hear this 
 prayer. He says practically, ** I w^ill be content 
 if you treat me as no better than I should be, as 
 deceitful, mean, dishonest and selfish." For the 
 
 14 
 
most part, we are contented so to deal and to be 
 dealt with, and we do not think that for the mass 
 of men there is any truer and nobler relation 
 possible. A man may have good neighbors, so 
 called, and acquaintances, and even companions, 
 wife, parents, brothers, sisters, children, ^vho 
 meet himself and one another on this ground 
 only. The State does not demand justice of its 
 members, but thinks that it succeeds very w^ell 
 w^ith the least degree of it— hardly more than 
 rogues practise — and so do the family and the 
 neighborhood. Even w^hat is commonly called 
 Friendship is only a little more honor among 
 rogues. 
 
 But sometimes w^e are said to love another; that 
 is, to stand in a true relation to him, so that w^e 
 give the best to, and receive the best from, him. 
 Between whom there is hearty truth there is 
 love; and in proportion to our truthfulness and 
 confidence in one another, our lives are divine 
 and miraculous, and answer to our ideal. There 
 are passages of affection in our intercourse w^ith 
 mortal men and w^omen, such as no prophecy 
 had taught us to expect, w^hich transcend our 
 earthly life, and anticipate Heaven for us. "What 
 is this Love that may come right into the middle 
 of a prosaic Goffstown day, equal to any of the 
 gods ; that discovers a new^ w^orld, fair and fresh 
 and eternal, occupying the place of this old one, 
 when to the common eye a dust has settled on 
 the universe ; which w^orld can not else be 
 reached, and does not e^istl W^hat other words, 
 w^e may almost ask, are memorable and worthy 
 to be repeated than those which love has inspired ? 
 It is wonderful that they were ever uttered. They 
 
 15 
 
are few and rare, indeed; but, like a strain of 
 music, they are incessantly repeated and 
 modulated by the memory S^ All other words 
 crumble off w^ith the stucco which overlies the 
 heart. We should not dare to repeat them now 
 aloud. We are not competent to hear them at 
 all times. 
 
 The books for young people say a great deal 
 about the selection of Friends ; it is because they 
 really have nothing to say about Friends. They 
 mean associates and confidants merely. **Know^ 
 that the contrariety of Foe and Friend proceeds 
 from God." Friendship takes place betw^een those 
 who have an affinity for one another, and is a 
 perfectly natural and inevitable result 3^ No 
 professions nor advances w^ill avail. Even 
 speech, at first, necessarily has nothing to do 
 with it: but it follows after silence, as the buds 
 in the graft do not put forth into leaves till long 
 after the graft has taken. It is a drama in which 
 the parties have no part to act 3. "We are all 
 Mussulmans and fatalists in this respect i^ 
 Impatient and uncertain lovers think that they 
 must say or do something kind whenever they 
 meet; they must never be cold. But they w^ho are 
 Friends do not do what they think they must, 
 but what they must. Even their Friendship is in , 
 one sense but a sublime phenomenon to them. I 
 €L The true and not despairing Friend w^ill address 
 his Friend in some such terms as these : 
 **I never asked thy leave to let me love thee— I 
 have a right. I love thee not as something private 
 and personal, w^hich is your own, but as something 
 universal and w^orthy of love, which I have found. 
 Oh, how I think of you ! You are purely good- 
 ie 
 
you are infinitely good. I can trust you forever. I 
 did not think that humanity was so rich. Give 
 me an opportunity to live. 
 
 ** You are the fact in a fiction — you are the truth 
 more strange and admirable than fiction. Consent 
 only to be what you are. I alone will never stand 
 in your w^ay. 
 
 **This is what I would like: to be as intimate 
 with you as our spirits are intimate, respecting 
 you as I respect my ideal. Never to profane one 
 another by word or action, even by a thought. 
 Between us, if necessary, let there be no 
 acquaintance. 
 
 '*I have discovered you; how can you be concealed 
 from me?" 
 
 The Friend asks no return but that his Friend 
 will religiously accept and wear and not disgrace 
 his apotheosis of him. They cherish each other's 
 hopes. They are kind to each other's dreams. 
 C Though the poet says, ** 'T is the pre-eminence 
 of Friendship to impute excellence," yet w^e 
 can never praise our Friend, nor esteem him 
 praiseworthy, nor let him think that he can 
 please us by any behavior^ or ever treat us w^ell 
 enough ^ That kindness w^hich has so good a 
 reputation elsewhere can least of all consist w^ith 
 this relation, and no such affront can be offered to 
 a Friend, as a conscious good w^ill, a friendliness 
 which is not a necessity of the Friend's nature. 
 €LThe sexes are naturally most strongly attracted 
 to one another, by constant constitutional 
 differences, and are most commonly and surely 
 the complements of one another i^ How natural 
 and easy it is for man to secure the attention of 
 w^oman to what interests himself 3»^ Men and 
 
 17 
 
women of equal culture, thrown together, are 
 sure to be of a certain value to one another, more 
 than men to men. There exists already a natural 
 disinterestedness and liberality in such society, 
 and I think that any man w^ill more confidently 
 carry his favorite books to read to some circle of 
 intelligent w^omen, than to one of his ow^n sex. 
 The visit of man to man is w^ont to be an 
 interruption, but the sexes naturally expect one 
 another. Yet Friendship is no respecter of sex ; 
 and perhaps it is more rare betw^een the sexes 
 than between two of the same sex. 
 Friendship is, at any rate, a relation of perfect 
 equality. It can not w^ell spare any outw^ard 
 sign of equal obligation and advantage Sv The 
 nobleman can never have a Friend among his 
 retainers, nor the king among his subjects. Not 
 that the parties to it are in all respects equal, but 
 they are equal in all that respects or affects their 
 Friendship. The one's love is exactly balanced 
 and represented by the other's. Persons are only 
 the vessels which contain the nectar, and the 
 hydrostatic paradox is the symbol of love's law^. 
 It finds its level and rises to its fountainhead in 
 all breasts, and its slenderest column balances 
 the ocean. 
 
 Love equals s-wiit and slo^v. 
 
 And high and lew. 
 
 Racer and lame. 
 
 The hunter and his game. 
 
 The one sex is not, in this respect, more tender 
 
 than the other. A hero's love is as delicate as a 
 
 maiden's. 
 
 Confucius said, ** Never contract Friendship 
 
 w^ith a man that is not better than thyself." It is 
 
 18 
 
the merit and preservation of Friendship, that it 
 takes place on a level higher than the actual 
 characters of the parties would seem to warrant. 
 The rays of light come to us in such a curve that 
 every man whom we meet appears to be taller 
 than he actually is. Such foundation has civility. 
 My Friend is that one whom I can associate w^ith 
 my choicest thought. I alw^ays assign to him a 
 nobler employment in my absence than I ever 
 find him engaged in ; and I imagine that the hours 
 which he devotes to me were snatched from a 
 higher society. The sorest insult which I ever 
 received from a Friend was, w^hen he behaved 
 w^ith the license which only long and cheap 
 acquaintance allows to one's fault, in my 
 presence, w^ithout shame, and still addressed me 
 in friendly accents. Beware, lest thy Friend learn 
 at last to tolerate one frailty of thine, and so an 
 obstacle be raised to the progress of thy love. 
 Friendship is never established as an understood 
 relation ^ Do you demand that I be less your 
 Friend that you may know it ? Yet what right 
 have I to think that another cherishes so rare a 
 sentiment for me ? It is a miracle which requires 
 constant proofs. It is an exercise of the purest 
 imagination and the rarest faith. It says by a 
 silent but eloquent behavior: ** I w^ill be so related 
 to thee as thou canst imagine; even so thou 
 mayest believe. I will spend truth — all my wealth 
 —on thee," and the Friend responds silently 
 through his nature and life, and treats his Friend 
 with the same divine courtesy. He knows us 
 literally through thick and thin. He never asks 
 for a sign of love, but can distinguish it by the 
 features which it naturally wears. We never 
 
 19 
 
need to stand upon cefemony -with him with 
 regard to his visits. Wait not till I invite thee, 
 but observe that I am glad to see thee when thou 
 comest. It would be paying too dear for thy visit 
 to ask for it. Where my Friend lives there are 
 riches and every attraction, and no slight obstacle 
 can keep me from him. Let me never have to tell 
 thee what I have not to tell. Let our intercourse 
 be w^holly above ourselves, and draw^ us up to it. 
 The language of Friendship is not words but 
 meanings. It is an intelligence above language. 
 One imagines endless conversations w^ith his 
 Friend, in w^hich the tongue shall be loosed, and 
 thoughts be spoken without hesitancy, or end; 
 but the experience is commonly far otherw^ise. 
 Acquaintances may come and go, and have a 
 word ready for every occasion ; but what puny 
 word shall he utter w^hose very breath is thought 
 and meaning ? Suppose you go to bid farewell to 
 your Friend w^ho is setting out on a journey ; 
 w^hat other outw^ard sign do you know^ of than to 
 shake his hand ? Have you any palaver ready for 
 him then; any box of salve to commit to his 
 pocket; any particular message to send by him; 
 any statement w^hich you had forgotten to make- 
 as if you could forget anything? ^ No; it is 
 much that you take his hand and say Farew^ell ; 
 that you could easily omit; so far custom has 
 prevailed. It is even painful, if he is to go, that 
 he should linger so long. If he must go, let him 
 go quickly. Have you any last words ? Alas, it 
 is only the w^ord of words, which you have so 
 long sought and found not ; you have not a first 
 word yet. There are few even whom I should 
 venture to call earnestly by their most proper 
 
 20 
 
natnes. A name pronounced is the recognition of 
 the individual to whom it belongs. He who can 
 pronounce my name aright, he can call me, and 
 is entitled to my love and service. 
 The violence of love is as much to be dreaded as 
 that of hate. W^hen it is durable it is serene and 
 equable. Even its famous pains begin only with 
 the ebb of love, for few are indeed lovers, though 
 all would fain be S^ It is one proof of a man's 
 fitness for Friendship that he is able to do without 
 that w^hich is cheap and passionate 3^. A true 
 Friendship is as w^ise as it is tender. The parties 
 to it yield implicitly to the guidance of their 
 love, and know no other law^ nor kindness. It is 
 not extravagant and insane, but w^hat it says is 
 something established henceforth, and w^ill 1 ear 
 to be stereotyped. It is a truer truth, it is better 
 and fairer news, and no time will ever shame it, 
 or prove it false. This is a plant which thrives 
 best in a temperate zone, w^here Summer and 
 W^inter alternate with one another. The Friend 
 is a necessarious, and meets his Friend on homely 
 ground; not on carpets and cushions, but on the 
 ground and on rocks they w^ill sit, obeying the 
 natural and primitive laws S** They ^vill meet 
 w^ithout any outcry, and part without loud 
 sorrow. Their relation implies such qualities as 
 the w^arrior prizes ; for it takes a valor to open 
 the hearts of men as w^ell as the gates of cities. 
 C Friendship is not so kind as is imagined; it has 
 not much human blood in it, but consists with a 
 certain disregard for men and their erections, the 
 Christian duties and humanities, w^hile it purifies 
 the air like electricity. There may be the sternest 
 tragedy in the relation of two more than usually 
 
 21 
 
innocent and true to thjeir highest instincts. We 
 may call it an essentially heathenish intercourse, 
 free and irresponsible in its nature, and practising 
 all the virtues gratuitously ^ It is not the 
 highest sympathy merely, but a pure and lofty 
 society, a fragmentary and godlike intercourse 
 of ancient date, still kept up at intervals, 
 which, remembering itself, does not hesitate to 
 disregard the humbler rights and duties of 
 humanity. It requires immaculate and godlike 
 qualities full grown, and exists at all only by 
 condescension and anticipation of the remotest 
 future. We love nothing w^hich is merely good 
 and not fair, if such a thing is possible. Nature j 
 puts some kind of blossom before every fruit, ^ 
 not simply a calyx behind it. W^hen the Friend 
 comes out of his heathenism and superstition, 
 and breaks his idols, being converted by the i 
 precepts of a newer testament ; w^hen he forgets \ 
 his mythology, and treats his Friend like a 
 Christian, or as he can afford; then Friendship 
 ceases to be Friendship, and becomes charity; 
 that principle which established the almshouse is 
 now beginning with its charity at home, and 
 establishing an almshouse and pauper relations 
 there S». S*. 
 
S for the number \vhich this 
 society admits, it is at any 
 rate to be be^un with one, 
 the noblest and greatest that 
 we know, and whether the 
 world w^ill ever carry it 
 further, whether, as Chaucer 
 affirms, ''There be mo 
 sterres in the skie than a 
 pair," remains to be proved; 
 
 "And certaine he is well begone. 
 Among a thousand that findeth one." 
 
 W^e shall not surrender 
 ourselves heartily to any 
 while ^ve are conscious that another is more 
 deserving of our love. Yet Friendship does not 
 stand for numbers ; the Friend does not count his 
 Friends on his fingers; they are not numerable. 
 The more there are included by this bond, if 
 they are indeed included, the rarer and diviner 
 the quality of the love that binds them ik I am 
 ready to believe that as private and intimate a 
 relation may exist by which three are embraced, 
 as betw^een tw^o. Indeed, we can not have too 
 many Friends; the virtue which w^e appreciate 
 w^e to some extent appropriate, so that thus ^ve 
 are made at last fit for every relation of life. A 
 base Friendship is alw^ays of a narro"wing and 
 exclusive tendency, but a noble one is never 
 exclusive; its very superfluity and dispersed 
 love is the humanity which sweetens society, 
 and sympathizes with foreign nations ; for though 
 its foundations are private, it is in effect a public 
 affair and a public advantage, and the Friend, 
 more than the father of a family, deserves w^ell 
 
 23 
 
of the State. C. The only clanger in Friendship is 
 that it will end. It is a delicate plant though a 
 native J*. The least un worthiness, even if it be 
 unknown to one's self, vitiates it. Let the Friend 
 know that those faults which he observes in his 
 Friend his own faults attract. There is no rule 
 more invariable than that we are paid for our 
 suspicions by finding what we suspected. By our 
 narrowness and prejudices 'we say, ** I will have 
 so much and such of you, my Friend, no more." 
 Perhaps there are none charitable, none wise, 
 none disinterested, noble, and heroic enough for a 
 true and lasting Friendship. 
 
 I sometimes hear my Friends complain finely 
 that I do not appreciate their fineness. I shall 
 not tell them whether I do or not. As if they 
 expected a vote of thanks for every fine thing 
 w^hich they uttered or did! Who knows but it 
 w^as finely appreciated? J*. It may be that your 
 silence was the finest thing of the tw^o. There 
 are some things w^hich a man never speaks of, 
 which are much finer kept silent about. To the 
 highest communications w^e only lend a silent 
 ear. Our finest relations are not simply kept 
 silent about, but buried under a positive depth 
 of silence, never to be revealed. It may be that 
 we are not even yet acquainted 3^ In human 
 intercourse the tragedy begins, not w^hen there is 
 misunderstanding about words, but when silence 
 is not understood. Then there can never be an 
 explanation. "What avails it that another loves 
 you, if he does not understand you ? Such love 
 is a curse. What sort of companions are they 
 who are presuming always that their silence is 
 more expressive than yours ? How foolish, and 
 
 24 
 
inconsiderate, and unjust, to conduct as if you 
 were the only party aggrieved! Has not your 
 Friend always equal ground of complaint ? No 
 doubt my Friends sometimes speak to me in vain, 
 but they do not know w^hat things I hear which 
 they are not aware that they have spoken. I 
 know^ that I have frequently disappointed them 
 by not giving them w^ords w^hen they expected 
 them, or such as they expected. 'Whenever I see 
 my Friend I speak to him, but the expector, the 
 man with the ears, is not he. They will complain, 
 too, that you are hard. O ye that would have the 
 cocoanut wrong side outwards, when next I 
 weep I will let you know^. They ask for w^ords 
 and deeds, when a true relation is word and deed. 
 If they know not of these things, how can they 
 be informed ? W^e often forbear to confess our 
 feelings, not from pride, but for fear that we 
 could not continue to love the one who required 
 .^us to gvve such proof of our affection. 
 I know a woman who possesses a restless and 
 intelligent mind, interested in her ow^n culture, 
 and earnest to enjoy the highest possible 
 advantages, and I meet her w^ith pleasure as a 
 natural person w^ho not a little provokes me, 
 and, I suppose, is stimulated in turn by myself. 
 Yet our acquaintance plainly does not attain to 
 that degree of confidence and sentiment which 
 women, w^hich all, in fact, covet. I am glad to 
 help her, as I am helped by her; I like very well 
 to know^ her w^ith a sort of stranger's privilege, 
 and hesitate to visit her often, like her other 
 Friends. My nature pauses here, I do not well 
 know w^hy 3^ Perhaps she does not make the 
 highest demand on me, a religious demand. Some, 
 
 25 
 
•with whose prejudices or peculiar bias I have no 
 sympathy, yet inspire me with confidence, and 
 I trust that they confide in me also as a religious 
 heathen at least— a good Greek 3< I, too, have 
 principles as w^ell founded as their ow^n. If this 
 person could conceive that, w^ithout w^ilfulness, 
 I associate with her as far as our destinies are 
 coincident, as far as our Good Geniuses permit, 
 and still value such intercourse, it w^ould be a 
 grateful assurance to me. I feel as if I appeared 
 careless, indifferent and without principle to her, 
 not expecting more, and yet not content w^ith 
 less. If she could know that I make an infinite 
 demand on myself, as w^ell as on all others, 
 she would see that this true though incomplete 
 intercourse is infinitely better than a more 
 unreserved but falsely grounded one, without 
 the principle of growth in it. For a companion, I 
 require one w^ho will make an equal demand on 
 me with my ow^n genius. Such a one will always 
 be rightly tolerant. It is suicide and corrupts 
 good manners to welcome any less than this. I 
 value and trust those w^ho love and praise my 
 aspiration rather than my performance. If you 
 w^ould not stop to look at me, but look 'whither 
 I am looking and farther, then my education 
 could not dispense with your company. 
 
 My love must be as free 
 
 As is the eagle's "wing. 
 Hovering o'er land and sea 
 
 And everything. 
 
 I must not dim my eye 
 
 In thy saloon, 
 I must not leave my sky 
 And nightly moon. 
 26 
 
Be not the fowler's net 
 
 "Which stays my flight. 
 And craftily i« set 
 
 T' allure the sight. 
 
 But the favoring gale 
 
 That bears me on. 
 And still doth fill my sail 
 
 When thou art gone. 
 
 I can not leave my sky 
 
 For thy caprice. 
 True love w^ould soar as high 
 
 As heaven is. 
 
 The eagle would not brook 
 
 Her mate thus ^^on. 
 Who trained his eye to look 
 
 Beneath the sun. 
 
 Nothing is so difficult as to help a Friend in 
 matters Tvhich do not require the aid of Friendship, 
 but only a cheap and trivial service, if your 
 Friendship wants the basis of a thorougfh, 
 practical acquaintance. I stand in the friendliest 
 relation, on social and spiritual grounds, to one 
 who does not perceive w^hat practical skill I 
 have, but when he seeks my assistance in such 
 matters, is wholly ignorant of that one whom 
 he deals with ; 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 know^s how to make use of the 
 talents of others w^hen 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 
 
 27 
 
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 can not supply. 
 
 The Good how can ^^e trust ? 
 
 Only the "Wise arc just. 
 
 The Good we use. 
 
 The W^ise "we can not 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 w^ith their eyes. 
 
 But they transfix -with theitt.advice; 
 
 No partial sympathy they feel 
 
 "With private w^oe or private w^eal. 
 
 But with the universe joy and sigh, 
 
 "Whose know^ledge 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 w^ith their vice also. I have a Friend 
 who wishes me to see that to be right w^hich I 
 know^ to be wrong. But if Friendship is to rob 
 me of my eyes, if it is to darken the day, I w^ill 
 have none of it ^ It should be expansive and 
 inconceivably liberalizing in its effects. True 
 Friendship can afford true kno^vledge. It does not 
 depend on darkness and ignorance. A w^ant of 
 discernment can not 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 w^ould not bribe his judge, 
 or w^ho was content that the truth should be 
 loved always better than himself. 
 If tw^o travelers would go their way harmoniously 
 together, the one must take as true and just a 
 view of things as the other, else their path w^ill 
 not be strewn with roses. Yet you can travel 
 profitably and pleasantly even with a blind man, 
 if he practises common courtesy, and w^hen you 
 converse about the scenery ^vill 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 w^ant of sight. Otherwise you 
 w^ill not long keep company. A blind man and 
 a man in w^hose eyes there w^as no defect w^ere 
 w^alking together, w^hen 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 S*. "We may bid him farewell 
 forever sooner than complain, for our complaint 
 is too w^ell grounded to be uttered. There is not 
 so good an understanding betw^een 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 
 
 29 
 
differences which always exist, and are obstacles 
 to a perfect Friendship,' are to the lips of Friends 
 forever a forbidden theme J** They advise by 
 their w^hole behavior. Nothings can reconcile 
 them but love. They are fatally late w^hen they 
 undertake to explain and treat w^ith one another 
 like foes. Who w^ill 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 S^k 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 aw^ay, but, alas! 
 how^ever slight the apparent cause, only for 
 adequate and fatal and everlasting reasons, 
 w^hich can never be set aside. Its quarrel, if there 
 is any, is ever recurring, notwithstanding the 
 beams of affection which invariably come to gild 
 its tears; as the rainbow, however beautiful and 
 unerring a sign, does not promise fair weather 
 forever, but only for a season. I have known two 
 or three persons pretty well, and yet I have 
 never know^n advice to be of use but in trivial 
 and transient matters. One may know^ what 
 another does not, but the utmost kindness can 
 not impart what is requisite to make the advice 
 useful. W^e must accept or refuse one another as 
 ^ve are. I could tame a hyena more easily than 
 my Friend. He is a material which no tool of 
 mine ^'ill work. A naked savage will fell an oak 
 -with a firebrand and wear a hatchet out of the 
 rock by friction, but I can not hew the smallest 
 chip out of the character of my Friend, either to 
 beautify or to deform it. 
 
 30 
 
The lover learns at last there is no person quite 
 transparent and trustworthy, but every one has 
 a devil in him that is capable of any crime in the 
 long run. Yet, as an Oriental philosopher has 
 said, ** Although Friendship between good men 
 is interrupted, their principles remain unaltered. 
 The stalk of the lotus may be broken, and the 
 fibers remain connected." 
 
 Ignorance and bungling with love are better 
 than wisdom and skill without. There may be 
 courtesy, there may be even temper and \vit 
 and talent and sparkling conversation, there may 
 even be good w^ill— and yet the humanest and 
 divinest faculties pine for exercise ^ Our life 
 without love is like coke and ashes. Men may 
 be as pure as alabaster and Parian marble, elegant 
 as a Tuscan villa, sublime as Niagara; and yet if 
 there is no milk mingled w^ith the wine at their 
 entertainments, better is the hospitality of Goths 
 and Vandals. My Friend is not of some other race 
 or family of men, but flesh of my flesh, bone of 
 my bone. He is my real brother. I see his nature 
 groping yonder so like mine. We do not live far 
 apart. Have not the Fates associated us in many 
 \vays? Is it of no significance that we have so 
 long partaken of the same loaf, drank at the same 
 fountain, breathed the same air. Summer and 
 Winter felt the same heat and cold; that the 
 same fruits have been pleased to refresh us both, 
 and we have never had a thought of different 
 fiber the one with the other ? 
 
 Nature doth have her dawn each day. 
 
 But mine are far between ; 
 Content, I cry, for sooth to say. 
 
 Mine brightest are I w^een. 
 
 31 
 
For when my sun doth deign to rise. 
 
 Though it be her noontide. 
 Her fairest field in shadow lies. 
 
 Nor can my light abide. 
 
 Sometimes I bask me in her day. 
 
 Conversing with my mate. 
 But if w^c interchange one ray. 
 
 Forthwith her heats abate. 
 
 Through his discourse I climb and see. 
 
 As from some Eastern hill, 
 A brighter morrow^ rise to me 
 
 Than lieth in her skill. 
 
 As 't 'were two Summer days in one, 
 
 Tw^o Sundays come together. 
 Our rays united make one sun 
 
 With fairest Summer weather. 
 
 ' As surely as the sunset in my latest Novenjjber 
 shall translate me to the ethereal 'world, and 
 remind me of the ruddy morning of youth ; as 
 surely as the last strain of music "which falls on 
 my decaying ear shall make age to be forgotten, 
 or, in short, the manifold influences of nature 
 survive during the term of our natural life, so 
 surely my Friend shall forever be my Friend, 
 and reflect a ray of God to me, and time shall 
 foster and adorn and consecrate our Friendship, 
 no less than the ruins of temples/ i5*» As I love 
 Nature, as I love singing birds, and gleaming 
 stubble, and flo'wing rivers, and morning and 
 evening, and Summer and Winter, I love thee, 
 my Friend. 
 
 But all that can be said of Friendship is like 
 botany to flow^ers. How can the understanding 
 take account of its friendliness ? 
 Even the death of Friends will inspire us as 
 
 32 
 
much as their lives. They will leave consolation 
 to the mourners, as the rich leave money to 
 defray the expenses of their funerals, and their 
 memories will be incrusted over with sublime 
 and pleasing thoughts, as their monuments are 
 overgrown with moss. 
 
 This to our cis-Alpine and cis-Atlantic Friends. 
 €L Also this other word of entreaty and advice to 
 the large and respectable nation of Acquaintances, 
 beyond the mountains; Greeting: 
 My most serene and irresponsible neighbors, let 
 us see that we have the w^hole advantage of 
 each other; we w^ill be useful, at least, if not 
 admirable, to one another S*. I know that the 
 mountains w^hich separate us are high, and are 
 covered w^ith perpetual snow, but despair not. 
 Improve the serene NVinter weather to scale 
 them. If need be, soften the rocks with vinegar. 
 For here lie the verdant plains of Italy ready to 
 receive you. Nor shall I be slow on my side to 
 penetrate to your Provence. Strike then boldly 
 at head or heart or any vital part. Depend upon 
 it, the timber is well seasoned and tough, and 
 will bear rough usage; and if it should crack, 
 there is plenty more w^here it came from. I am 
 no piece of crockery that can not be jostled 
 against my neighbor w^ithout danger of being 
 broken by the collision, and must needs ring 
 false and jarringly to the end of my days, w^hen 
 once I am cracked; but rather one of the 
 old-fashioned w^ooden trenchers, which at one 
 while stands at the head of the table, and at 
 another is a milking- stool, and at another is a 
 seat for children, and finally goes down to its 
 grave not unadorned with honorable scars, and 
 
 33 
 
does not die till it is. worn out. Nothing can 
 shock a brave man but dulness. Think how- 
 many rebuffs every man has experienced in his 
 day ; perhaps has fallen into a horse-pond, eaten 
 fresh-water clams, or worn one shirt for a w^eek 
 without washing. Indeed, you can not receive a 
 shock unless you have an electric affinity for 
 that ^vhich shocks you. Use me, then, for I am 
 useful in my w^ay, and stand as one of many 
 petitioners from toadstool and henbane up to 
 dahlia and violet, supplicating to be put to my use, 
 if by any means ye may find me serviceable; 
 whether for a medicated drink or bath, as balm 
 and lavender; or for fragrance, as verbena and 
 geranium; or for sight, as cactus; or for thoughts, 
 as pansy. These humbler, at least, if not those 
 higher uses. 
 
 Ah, my dear Strangers and Enemies, I w^ould 
 not forget you. I can well afford to welcome 
 you. Let me subscribe myself. Yours ever and 
 truly— your much obliged servant ^ "We have 
 nothing to fear from our foes ; God keeps a 
 standing army for that service ; but w^e have no 
 ally against our Friends, those ruthless Vandals. 
 
 34> 
 
11^ 
 
 LOVE 
 
HAT the essential difference 
 between man and woman 
 is that they should be thus 
 attracted to one another, 
 no one has satisfactorily 
 answ^ered. Perhaps w^e must 
 • acknow^ledge the justness of 
 the distinction w^hich assigns 
 to man the sphere of wisdom, 
 and to w^oman that of love, 
 though neither belongs 
 exclusively to either. Man 
 is continually saying to 
 ^ w^oman, ** Why will you not 
 be more w^ise ? " Woman is continually saying to 
 man, ** W^hy w^ill you not be more loving?" It is 
 not in their w^ills to be wise or to be loving; but 
 unless each is both ^wise and loving there can be 
 neither w^isdom nor love. 
 
 All transcendent goodness is one, though 
 appreciated in different w^ays, or by different 
 senses. In beauty we see it, in music we hear it^ in 
 fragrance w^e scent it, in the palatable the pure 
 palate tastes it, and in rare health the whole 
 bo^y feels it. The variety is in the surface or 
 manifestation; but the radical identity we fail 
 to express. The lover sees in the glance of his 
 beloved the same beauty that in the sunset paints 
 the W^estern skies 3» It is the same daimon, 
 here lurking under a human eyelid, and there 
 under the closing eyelids of the day. Here, in 
 small compass, is the ancient and natural beauty 
 of evening and morning. W^hat loving astronomer 
 has ever fathomed the ethereal depths of the 
 eye ? ik J*. 
 
 39 
 
The maiden conceals a fairer flower and sweeter 
 fruit than any calyx in the field; and, if she goes 
 w^ith averted face, confiding in her purity and 
 high resolves, she will make the heavens 
 retrospective, and all Nature humbly confess its 
 queen ik 3^ 
 
 Under the influence of this sentiment, man is 
 a string of an Aeolian harp, which vibrates w^ith 
 the zephyrs of the eternal morning. 
 There is at first thought something trivial in 
 the commonness of love Jk So many Indian 
 youths and maidens along these banks have 
 yielded in ages past to the influence of this 
 great civilizer. Nevertheless, this generation 
 is not disgusted nor discouraged, for love is 
 no individual's experience; and though w^e are 
 imperfect mediums, it does not partake of our 
 imperfection ; though we are finite, it is infinite 
 and eternal ; and the same divine influence broods 
 over these banks, whatever race may inhabit 
 them, and perchance still w^ould even if the 
 human race did not d^vell here. 
 Perhaps an instinct survives through the intensest 
 actual love, w^hich prevents entire abandonment 
 and devotion, and makes the most ardent lover 
 a little reserved ik It is the anticipation of 
 change. For the most ardent lover is not the less 
 practically wise, and seeks a love w^hich w^ill 
 last forever. 
 
 Considering how few poetical friendships there 
 are, it is remarkable that so many are married. 
 It would seem as if men yielded too easy an 
 obedience to Nature without consulting their 
 genius. One may be drunk w^ith love w^ithout 
 being any nearer to finding his mate 3k There 
 
 40 
 
is more of good nature than good sense at the 
 bottom of most marriages. But the good nature 
 must have the counsel of the good spirit or 
 Intelligence. If commonsense had been consulted, 
 how many marriages would never have taken 
 place; if uncommon or divine sense, how^ few^ 
 marriages such as we witness w^ould ever have 
 taken place ! 
 
 Our love may be ascending or descending. What 
 is its character, if it may be said of it : 
 
 " We must respect the souls above. 
 But only those belo"w -we love "? 
 
 Love is a severe critic. Hate can pardon more 
 
 than love. They who aspire to love -worthily, 
 
 subject themselves to an ordeal more rigid than 
 
 any other. 
 
 Is your friend such an one that an increase of 
 
 worth on your part will rarely make her more 
 
 your friend ? Is she retained— is she attracted— by 
 
 more nobleness in you, by more of that virtue 
 
 which is peculiarly yours; or is she indifferent 
 
 and blind to that ? Is she to be flattered and won 
 
 by your meeting her on any other than the 
 
 ascending path? Then duty requires that you 
 
 separate from her. 
 
 Love must be as much a light as a flame. 
 
 "Where there is not discernment, the behavior 
 
 even of the purest soul may in effect amount to 
 
 coarseness. 
 
 A man of fine perceptions is more truly feminine 
 
 than a merely sentimental w^oman. The heart is 
 
 blind ; but love is not blind. None of the gods is 
 
 so discriminating. 
 
 In love and friendship the imagination is as much 
 
 exercised as the heart ; and if either is outraged 
 
 41 
 
the other will be estranged. It is commonly the 
 imagination which is wounded first, rather than 
 the heart, — it is so much the more sensitive. 
 Comparatively, we can excuse any offense 
 againstthe heart, but not against the imagination. 
 The imagination knows — nothing escapes its 
 glance from out its eyrie— and it controls the 
 breast ^ My heart may still yearn toward the 
 valley, but my imagination will not permit me 
 to jump off the precipice that debars me from it, 
 for it is wounded, w^ounded, its wings are clipped 
 and it can not fly even descendingly. Our 
 ** blundering hearts!" some poet says Sk The 
 imagination never forgets ; it is a re-membering. It 
 is not foundationless, but most reasonable, and it 
 alone uses all the knowledge of the intellect. 
 Love is the profoundest of secrets iS** Divulged, 
 even to the beloved, it is no longer Love. As if it 
 were merely I that loved you. When love ceases, 
 then it is divulged. 
 
 In our intercourse with one we love, w^e wish to 
 have answered those questions at the end of 
 which we do not raise our voice ; against w^hich 
 w^e put no interrogation -mark, — answered w^ith 
 the same unfailing, universal aim toward every 
 point of the compass. 
 
 I require that thou knowest everything without 
 being told anything. I parted from my beloved 
 because there was one thing which I had to tell 
 her. She questioned me. She should have known 
 all by sympathy. That I had to tell it her was 
 thedifferencebetw^eenus, — the misunderstanding. 
 C A lover never hears anything that is told, for 
 that is commonly either false or stale ; but he 
 hears things taking place, as the sentinels heard 
 
 42 
 
Trenck mining in the ground, and thought it was 
 
 moles. 
 
 The relation may be profaned in many ways. 
 
 The parties may not regard it with equal 
 
 sacredness. 'What if the lover should learn that 
 
 his beloved dealt in incantations and philters! 
 
 "What if he should hear that she consulted a 
 
 clairvoyant! 3-^ The spell w^ould be instantly 
 
 broken S^ 3k 
 
 If to chaffer and higgle are bad in trade, they are 
 
 much w^orse in Love. It demands directness as 
 
 of an arrow. 
 
 There is danger that w^e lose sight of what our 
 
 friend is absolutely, w^hile considering w^hat she 
 
 is to us alone. 
 
 The lover w^ants no partiality. He says, **Be so 
 
 kind as to be just." 
 
 " Can'st thou love with thy mind 
 
 And reason with thy heart? 
 Can'st thou be kind. 
 
 And from thy darling part ? 
 
 " Can'st thou range earth, sea and air. 
 And so meet me every w^here ? 
 Through all events I w^ill pursue thee. 
 Through all persons I will woo thee," 
 
 ** I need thy hate as much as thy love. Thou wilt 
 not repel me entirely w^hen thou repellest w^hat 
 is evil in me." 
 
 " Indeed, indeed, I can not tell. 
 Though I ponder on it w^ell, 
 "Which w^ere easier to state. 
 All my love or all my hate. 
 Surely, surely, thou wilt trust me 
 When I say thou dost disgust me; 
 O I hate thee with a hate 
 That would fain annihilate; 
 
 43 
 
" Yet, sometimes, against my will. 
 
 My dear Friend, I love thee still. 
 
 It were treason to our love. 
 
 And a sin to God above. 
 
 One iota to abate 
 
 Of a pure, impartial bate." 
 
 It is not enough that we are truthful ; we must 
 cherish and carry out high purposes to be 
 truthful about. 
 
 It must be rare, indeed, that we meet with one 
 to whom we are prepared to be quite ideally 
 related, as she to us. We should have no reserve; 
 we should give the whole of ourselves to that 
 society ; we should have no duty aside from that. 
 One who could bear to be so wonderfully and 
 beautifully exaggerated every day. 
 I would take my friend out of her low self and 
 set her higher, infinitely higher, and there know 
 her. But, commonly, men are as much afraid of 
 love as of hate. They have low^er engagements. 
 They have near ends to serve. They have not 
 imagination enough to be thus employed about 
 a human being, but must be coopering a barrel, 
 forsooth ! 
 
 'What a difference, w^hether, in all your walks, 
 you meet only strangers, or in one house is one 
 who knows you, and Tvhom you know ! To 
 have a brother or a sister ! To have a gold mine 
 on your farm! ^ To find diamonds in the 
 gravel-heaps before your door ! How rare these 
 things are! To share the day with you,— to 
 people the earth. W^hether to have a god or a 
 goddess for companion in your walks, or to 
 walk alone with hinds and villains and carles. 
 W^ould not a friend enhance the beauty of the 
 landscape as much as a deer or hare ? Everything 
 
 44 
 
would acknow^ledge and serve such a relation ; 
 the corn in the field, and the cranberries in the 
 meadow. The flowers would bloom, and the 
 birds sing, with a new impulse. There w^ould be 
 more fair days in the year. 
 
 The object of love expands and grows before us 
 to eternity, until it includes all that is lovely, 
 and we become all that can love. 
 
 45 
 
MARRIAGE 
 
HE subject of sex is a 
 remarkable one, since, though 
 its phenomena concern us 
 so much, both directly and 
 indirectly, and, sooner or 
 later, it occupies the thoughts 
 of all, yet all mankind, 
 as it were, agree to be silent 
 about it, at least the sexes 
 commonly one to another. 
 One of the most interesting 
 of all human facts is veiled 
 more completely than any 
 mystery. It is treated with 
 such secrecy and awe as surely do not go to any 
 religion ^ I believe that it is unusual even for 
 the most intimate friends to communicate the 
 pleasures and anxieties connected w^ith this fact, 
 —much as external a£fair of love, its comings 
 and goings, are bruited. The Shakers do not 
 exaggerate it so much by their manner of speaking 
 of it, as all mankind by their manner of keeping 
 silence about it. Not that men should speak on 
 this or any subject without having anything 
 worthy to say ; but it is plain that the education 
 of man has hardly commenced,— there is so little 
 genuine intercommunication. 
 In a pure society, the subject of marriage would 
 not be so often avoided from shame and not from 
 reverence, winked out of sight, and hinted at 
 only, but treated naturally and simply,— perhaps 
 simply avoided, like the kindred mysteries. It 
 can not be spoken of for shame, how can it be 
 acted of? But, doubtless, there is far more purity, 
 as w^ell as more impurity, than is apparent. 
 
 51 
 
Men commonly couple with their idea of marriage 
 a slight degree at least of sensuality ; but every 
 lover, the world over, believes in its inconceivable 
 purity Sk s^ 
 
 If it is the result of a pure love, there can be 
 nothing sensual in marriage ilk Chastity is 
 something positive, not negative. It is the virtue 
 of the married especially iSw All lusts or base 
 pleasures must gvve place to loftier delights! 
 They who meet as superior beings can not 
 perform the deeds of inferior ones. The deeds of 
 love are less questionable than any action of an 
 individual can be, for, it being founded on the 
 rarest mutual respect, the parties incessantly 
 stimulate each other to a loftier and purer life, 
 and the act in which they are associated must be 
 pure and noble indeed, for innocence and purity 
 can have no equal. In this relation we deal w^ith 
 one w^hom w^e respect more religiously even than 
 we respect our better selves, and we shall 
 necessarily conduct as in the presence of God. 
 "What presence can be more aw^ful to the lover 
 than the presence of his beloved ? 
 If you seek the w^armth even of affection from a 
 similar motive to that from w^hich cats and dogs 
 and slothful persons hug the £re, because your 
 temperature is low through sloth, you are on the 
 downw^ard road, and it is but to plunge yet 
 deeper into sloth. Better the cold affection of the 
 sun, reflected from fields of ice and snow^, or his 
 warmth in some still w^intry dell. The warmth 
 of celestial love does not relax, but nerves and 
 braces its enjoyer. Warm your body by healthful 
 exercise, not by cowering over a stove. W^arm 
 your spirit by performing independently noble 
 
 62 
 
deeds, not by ignobly seeking the sympathy of 
 your fellows who are no better than yourself. A 
 man^s social and spiritual discipline must answer 
 to his corporeal. He must lean on a friend w^ho has 
 a hard breast, as he w^ould lie on a hard bed. He 
 must drink cold w^ater for his only beverage. So he 
 must not hear sweetened and colored w^ords, but 
 pure and refreshing truths. He must daily bathe 
 in truth cold as spring w^ater, not w^armed by the 
 sympathy of friends. 
 
 Can love be in aught allied to dissipation ? Let 
 us love by refusing, not accepting, one another. 
 Lov e and lust are^ far ^sunder. Xhe one is good, 
 "tKe other Ba3. When the affectionate synipathize 
 by their higher natures, there is love ; but there 
 is danger that they w^ill sympathize by their 
 lower natures, and then there is lust. It is not 
 necessary that this be deliberate, hardly even 
 conscious ; but, in the close contact of affection, 
 there is danger that w^e may stain and pollute 
 one another, for we can not embrace but w^ith an 
 entire embrace. 
 
 We must love our friend so much that she shall 
 be associated w^ith our purest and holiest thougnts 
 alone ik When there is impurity, we have 
 '* descended to meet," though we knew it not. 
 CThe luxury of affection,— there 's the danger. 
 There must be some nerve and heroism in our 
 love, as of a W^inter morning. In the religion of all 
 nations a purity is hinted at, which, I fear, men 
 never attain to. We may love and not elevate 
 one another. The love that takes us as it finds us 
 degrades us. W^hat w^atch we must keep over the 
 fairest and purest of our affections, lest there be 
 some taint about them ! May we so love as never 
 
 53 
 
to have occasion to repent of our love ! C, There is 
 to be attributed to sensuality the loss to language 
 of how many pregnant symbols ? Flowers, 
 w^hich, by their infinite hues and fragrance, 
 celebrate the marriage of the plants, are intended 
 for a symbol of the open and unsuspected beauty 
 of all true marriage, w^hen man*s flowering 
 season arrives. 
 
 Virginity, too, is a budding flower, and by an 
 impure marriage the virgin is deflowered iSv 
 Whoever loves flowers, loves virgins and 
 chastity. Love and lust are as far asunder as a 
 flower-garden is from a brothel. 
 J. Biberg, in the Amaenitates Botanicae^ edited 
 by Linnaeus, observes (I translate from the Latin): 
 '* The organs of generation, "which, in the animal 
 kingdom, are for the most part concealed by 
 Nature, as if they w^ere to be ashamed of, in the 
 vegetable kingdom are exposed to the eyes of all ; 
 and, when the nuptials of plants are celebrated, 
 it is wonderful w^hat delight they afford to the 
 beholder, refreshing the senses w^ith the most 
 agreeable color and the sweetest odor; and, at 
 the same time, bees and other insects, not to 
 mention the humming-bird, extract honey from 
 their nectaries, and gather wax from their effete 
 pollen." Linnaeus himself calls the calyx the 
 thalamus, or bridal chamber ; and the corolla the 
 aulaeum, or tapestry of it, and proceeds to 
 explain thus every part of the flow^er. 
 'Who know^s but evil spirits might corrupt the 
 flow^ers themselves, rob them of their fragrance 
 and their fair hues, and turn their marriage into 
 a secret shame and defilement? Already they 
 are of various qualities, and there is one w^hose 
 
 54 
 
nuptials fill the lowlands in June with the odor 
 of carrion. 
 
 The intercourse of the sexes, I have dreamed, is 
 incredibly beautiful, too fair to be remembered. 
 I have had thoughts about it, but they are among 
 the most fleeting and irrecoverable in my 
 experience. It is strange that men will talk of 
 miracles, revelation, inspiration, and the like, as 
 things past, w^hile love remains. 
 A true marriage w^ill differ in no w^ise from 
 illumination. In all perception of the truth there 
 is 2L divine ecstacy, an inexpressible delirium of 
 joy, as when a youth embraces his betrothed 
 virgin. The ultimate delights of a true marriage 
 are one w^ith this. 
 
 No w^onder that out of such a union, not as end, 
 but as accompaniment, comes the undying race 
 of men. The womb is a most fertile soil. 
 Some have asked if the stock of men could not 
 be improved, — if they could not be bred as cattle. 
 Let Love be purified, and all the rest w^ill follow. 
 A pure Love is thus, indeed, the panacea for all 
 the ills of the w^orld. 
 
 The only excuse for reproduction is improvement. 
 Nature abhors repetition <^ Beasts merely 
 propagate their kind; but the offspring of 
 noble men and w^omen w^ill be superior to 
 themselves, as their aspirations are. By their 
 fruits ye shall know them. 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 55 
 
HERE ENDETH " FRIENDSHIP, LOVE, and MARRIAGE,** 
 THREE ESSAYS WRITTEN BY HENRY D. THOREAU. 
 AND PRESERVED IN A PRINTED BOOK BY THE 
 ROYCROFTERS, AT THEIR SHOP, WHICH IS IN EAST 
 AURORA, ERIE COUNTY, NEW YORK, A. D., MCMX 
 
One copy del. to Cat. Div. 
 
i.:C 7 1310 
 

 
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