let us bring within the family circle a few persons of amiable manners and simple tastes. our domestic retreat may then become our universe. but we must search for real friends, with capabilities for continuing such. if interest and pleasure break the accidental ties of a day, shall friendship, which was always a stranger to the connexion, be accused of the infraction?

a real friend must not be expected from the common ties of vulgar interest; but must be, in the circle to which he belongs, as a brother of adoption. so simple should be our confidence in the entireness of his affection, and the disinterestedness and wisdom of his advice, as to incline us to consult him without afflicting our wife or children by a useless communication of our perplexities. to him we should be able to confide our fears; and while we struggle, by his advice and aid to escape the pressing evil which menaces to overwhelm us, our family may still repose in tranquil security.[35]

if he suffer in turn, we share his pains. if he have pleasures, we reciprocally enjoy them. if either party[125] experience reverses, instead of finding himself alone in misery, he receives consolations so touching and tender, that he ceases to complain of a lot which has enabled him to become acquainted with the depth of the resources of friendship.

how pure is the sentiment, how simple the pleasures, which flow from the intercourse of two men united by similar opinions and like desires, who have both cultivated letters, the arts, and true wisdom! with what rapidity the moments of these charming conversations fly! even the hours consecrated to study are less pleasant, perhaps less instructive. such a friend, so to speak, is of a different nature from that of the rest of men. they either conceal our defects, or cause us to see them from motives of ill feeling. a friend so discusses them, in our presence, as not to wound us. he kindly reproaches us with faults, to our face, which he extenuates, or excuses before others in our absence. we can never fully comprehend to what extent a friend may be useful and dear until after having been a long time the faithful companion of his good and evil fortune. what emotions we experience in giving ourselves up to the remembrance of the common perils, storms and trials we have experienced together! it is never without tenderness of heart that we say, ‘we have had the same thoughts, affections and hopes. such an event penetrated us with common joy; such another filled us with grief. uniting our efforts, we rescued a victim of poverty and misfortune. we mutually shared his tears of gratitude. the hard necessity of circumstances separated us; and our paths so diverged that seas and mountains divided us. but we still remained[126] present to each other, in communion of thought. he had fears for me, and i for him, as we foresaw each other’s dangers. i learned his condition, interpreted his thoughts and feelings, and said, ‘such a fear agitates him; he forms such a project, conceives such a hope.’ finally, we met again. what charms, what effusion of heart in the union!’

it is a puerile absurdity to be proud of the reputation of one to whom we are united by the ties of blood—a distinction which nature gave us. but we may be justly proud of the rare qualities of our friend. the ties of this relation are not the work of nature or contingency. we prove that, in meriting his esteem, we, at least, resemble him in the qualities of his heart.

i immediately form a high opinion of the man whom i hear earnest in the applause of the talents or virtues of his friend. he possesses the qualities which he applauds; since he has need to affirm their existence in the person he loves.

this noble and pure sentiment has had its peaceable heroes. what names, what examples could i not cite, in ancient and in modern times! what splendid and affecting proofs of identity of fortune, joys and sorrows, and even danger and death! i knew two friends, of whom every one spoke with respect. one of them was asked the extent of his fortune? ‘mine is small,’ he replied, ‘but my friend is rich.’ the other, a few days before he died of a contagious disease, asked, ‘why so many persons were allowed to enter his chamber? no one,’ he added, ‘ought to be admitted but my friend.’ thus were they one in fortune, in life and in death.[36]

i deem, that even moralists have sought to render this peaceable sentiment, this gentle affection, and the[127] only one exempt from storms, too exclusive. i am aware, how much our affections become enfeebled, in proportion as their objects multiply. there is force in the quaint expression of an old author. ‘love is like a large stream which bears heavy laden boats. divide it into many channels, and they run aground.’ still, we may give the honored name of friend to several, without profaning it, if there exist between us mutual sympathy, high esteem and tender interest; if our pleasures and pains are, in some sense, common stock, and we are reciprocally capable of a sincere devotion to each other’s welfare. as much, however, as i revere the real sentiment, i am disgusted by the sickly or exaggerated affectation of it.

the sentiment is still more delightful when inspired by a woman. i shall be asked, if it can exist in its purity between persons of the different sexes? i answer in the affirmative, when the impulses of youth no longer agitate the heart. we then experience the whole charm of the sentiment, as the difference of sex, which is never entirely forgotten, imparts to it a vague and touching tenderness and an ideal delight for which language is too poor to furnish terms.

why can love and friendship, the sunshine of existence, decay in the heart? why are they not eternal? but since it is not so, if we are cruelly deceived in our affections, the surest means of medicating our pain is, instead of cherishing misanthropic distrust, to look round and form the same generous ties anew. has your friend abandoned you? or, worse, has your wife become unworthy of your love? it is better to be deceived a thousand times than to add, to the grief of wounded affection, the[128] insupportable burden of general distrust, misanthropy and hatred. let these baneful feelings never usurp the place of those sentiments which must constitute human happiness. pardon to those by whom you have been loved, the sorrows which their abandonment has caused you, in consideration of those days of the past which was embellished by their friendship.

but these treasons and perfidies are only frequent in the intercourse of those who are driven about by the whirlwinds of life; in which so many opposing interests, so many deceitful pleasures confuse and separate men. the simple minded and good, whose days flow pleasantly in retreat, every day value more the price of those ties that unite them. their happiness is veiled and guarantied by a guardian obscurity.

i give place to none of the illusions of inexperience in regard to men.[37] the errors, contradictions and vices with which they are charged, exist. i admit that the greater part of satires are faithful paintings. but there are still to be found, everywhere, persons whose manners are frank, whose heart is good, and whose temper amiable. these persons exist in sufficient numbers to compose this new world of which i have spoken. writers are disposed to declaim against men. i have never ceased to feel good will towards my kind. i have chosen only to withdraw from the multitude, in order to select my position in the centre of a small society. for me there are no longer stupid or wicked people on the earth.

i have examined the essential things of life, tranquillity and independence of mind, health, competence and the affection of some of our kind. i wish now to give my[129] observations something more of detail and diversity. but i wish it still to be borne in mind, that i give only the materials and outlines of an essay, and make no pretensions to fill out a complete treatise. i wish that a temple may be raised to happiness. hands, more skilful than mine, will rear it. it is sufficient to my purpose to indicate those delightful sites, in the midst of which it may be erected.