Friendship.

What virtue, or what mental grace     But men unqualified and base     Will boast it their possession?     Profusion apes the noble part     Of liberality of heart,     And dulness of discretion.     If every polishd gem we find,     Illuminating heart or mind,     Provoke to imitation;     No wonder friendship does the same,     That jewel of the purest flame,     Or rather constellation.     No knave but boldly will pretend     The requisites that form a friend,     A real and a sound one;     Nor any fool, he would deceive,     But prove as ready to believe,     And dream that he had found one.     Candid, and generous, and just,     Boys care but little whom they trust,     An error soon corrected     For who but learns in riper years     That man, when smoothest he appears,     Is most to be suspected?     But here again a danger lies,     Lest, having misapplied our eyes,     And taken trash for treasure,     We should unwarily conclude     Friendship a false ideal good,     A mere Utopian pleasure.     An acquisition rather rare     Is yet no subject of despair;     Nor is it wise complaining,     If, either on forbidden ground,     Or where it was not to be found,     We sought without attaining.     No friendship will abide the test,     That stands on sordid interest,     Or mean self-love erected;     Nor such as may awhile subsist     Between the sot and sensualist,     For vicious ends connected.     Who seek a friend should come disposd     To exhibit, in full bloom disclosd,     The graces and the beauties     That form the character he seeks,     For tis a union that bespeaks     Reciprocated duties.     Mutual attention is implied,     And equal truth on either side,     And constantly supported;     Tis senseless arrogance to accuse     Another of sinister views,     Our own as much distorted.     But will sincerity suffice?     It is indeed above all price,     And must be made the basis;     But every virtue of the soul     Must constitute the charming whole,     All shining in their places.     A fretful temper will divide     The closest knot that may be tied,     By ceaseless sharp corrosion;     A temper passionate and fierce     May suddenly your joys disperse     At one immense explosion.     In vain the talkative unite     In hopes of permanent delight     The secret just committed,     Forgetting its important weight,     They drop through mere desire to prate,     And by themselves outwitted.     How bright soeer the prospect seems,     All thoughts of friendship are but dreams,     If envy chance to creep in;     An envious man, if you succeed,     May prove a dangerous foe indeed,     But not a friend worth keeping.     As envy pines at good possessd,     So jealously looks forth distressd     On good that seems approaching;     And, if success his steps attend,     Discerns a rival in a friend,     And hates him for encroaching.     Hence authors of illustrious name,     Unless belied by common fame,     Are sadly prone to quarrel,     To deem the wit a friend displays     A tax upon their own just praise,     And pluck each others laurel.     A man renownd for repartee     Will seldom scruple to make free     With friendships finest feeling,     Will thrust a dagger at your breast,     And say he wounded you in jest,     By way of balm for healing.     Whoever keeps an open ear     For tattlers will be sure to hear     The trumpet of contention;     Aspersion is the babblers trade,     To listen is to lend him aid,     And rush into dissension.     A friendship that in frequent fits     Of controversial rage emits     The sparks of disputation,     Like hand-in-hand insurance-plates,     Most unavoidably creates     The thought of conflagration.     Some fickle creatures boast a soul     True as a needle to the pole,     Their humour yet so various     They manifest their whole life through     The needles deviations too,     Their love is so precarious.     The great and small but rarely meet     On terms of amity complete;     Plebeians must surrender,     And yield so much to noble folk,     It is combining fire with smoke,     Obscurity with splendour.     Some are so placid and serene     (As Irish bogs are always green),     They sleep secure from waking;     And are indeed a bog, that bears     Your unparticipated cares     Unmoved and without quaking.     Courtier and patriot cannot mix     Their heterogeneous politics     Without an effervescence,     Like that of salts with lemon juice,     Which does not yet like that produce     A friendly coalescence.     Religion should extinguish strife,     And make a calm of human life;     But friends that chance to differ     On points which God has left at large,     How freely will they meet and charge!     No combatants are stiffer.     To prove at last my main intent     Needs no expense of argument,     No cutting and contriving     Seeking a real friend, we seem     To adopt the chemists golden dream,     With still less hope of thriving.     Sometimes the fault is all our own,     Some blemish in due time made known     By trespass or omission;     Sometimes occasion brings to light     Our friends defect, long hid from sight,     And even from suspicion.     Then judge yourself, and prove your man     As circumspectly as you can,     And, having made election,     Beware no negligence of yours,     Such as a friend but ill endures,     Enfeeble his affection.     That secrets are a sacred trust,     That friends should be sincere and just,     That constancy befits them,     Are observations on the case,     That savour much of commonplace,     And all the world admits them.     But tis not timber, lead, and stone,     An architect requires alone     To finish a fine building     The palace were but half complete,     If he could possibly forget     The carving and the gilding.     The man that hails you Tom or Jack,     And proves by thumps upon your back     How he esteems your merit,     Is such a friend, that one had need     Be very much his friend indeed     To pardon or to bear it.     As similarity of mind,     Or something not to be defined,     First fixes our attention;     So manners decent and polite,     The same we practised at first sight,     Must save it from declension.     Some act upon this prudent plan,     Say little, and hear all you can.     Safe policy, but hateful     So barren sands imbibe the shower,     But render neither fruit nor flower,     Unpleasant and ungrateful.     The man I trust, if shy to me,     Shall find me as reserved as he,     No subterfuge or pleading     Shall win my confidence again;     I will by no means entertain     A spy on my proceeding.     These samplesfor, alas! at last     These are but samples, and a taste     Of evils yet unmentiond     May prove the task a task indeed,     In which tis much if we succeed,     However well intentiond.     Pursue the search, and you will find     Good sense and knowledge of mankind     To be at least expedient,     And, after summing all the rest,     Religion ruling in the breast     A principal ingredient.     The noblest Friendship ever shown     The Saviours history makes known,     Though some have turnd and turnd it;     And, whether being crazed or blind,     Or seeking with a biassd mind,     Have not, it seems, discernd it.     O Friendship! if my soul forego     Thy dear delights while here below,     To mortify and grieve me,     May I myself at last appear     Unworthy, base, and insincere,     Or may my friend deceive me!