Plutarch's Moralia (Holland)/Essay 4

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Mestrius Plutarchus2135758Plutarch's Moralia (Holland) — How A Man may discern a Flatterer from a Friend1911Philemon Holland

HOW A MAN MAY DISCERN A FLATTERER FROM A FRIEND

THE SUMMARY

[The traveller hath great occasion and cause to rejoice, if in his journey he go with a good companion, who by his pleasant and profitable discourses may make him forget the tedious difficulty of the way: even so in this life, happy is the man who can find and meet with those to bear him company, by whom he may both easily pass through the occurrent dangers that are presented unto him, and also advance forward cheerfully unto virtue. In which regard our author, Plutarch, having discoursed as touching the nouriture, education, and instruction of youth, as also of vice and virtue in general, by good order and in great reason, sheweth in this treatise what sort of people we ought carefully to avoid, and with whom to join and be acquainted. And as he was a man well experienced and practised in the affairs of this world, he affirmeth and proveth by very sound and firm reasons, that there is nothing whereof we are to be more wary and heedful than false friendship, which he calleth flattery. Moreover, this being a matter of so great importance, as every wise man may well think and perceive, he draweth out this present discourse in length: and for that his purpose is to instruct us in those means whereby we may be able to distinguish between a flatterer and a true friend, he sheweth in the first place, that the only principal remedy to stop up the entry against all flatterers is to know ourselves well: for otherwise we shall have such array and ornaments hanged upon us, that we shall not easily perceive and discern who we are. And contrariwise, it happeneth oftentimes that we esteem them to be our perfect friends, so skilful axe they in counterfeiting; and withal, when they find us disposed to entertain such company, our own indiscretion depriveth us of that true insight and view which our soul ought to have in discerning a false friend from a true. Being willing, therefore, to aid and help us in this point, he describeth a crafty and wily flatterer, he discovereth his cunning casts, and depainteth him in his colours, shewing the very draught and lineaments which may direct us to the knowledge of him, to wit, that he doth conform and frame himself to the humour and nature of those whose company he haunteth; how he is unconstant and mutable, changing and turning into many and sundry fashions without any right and sincere affection, applying himself all the while to everything else but virtue, willing to be reputed always more lewd and vicious than those whom he flattereth: without regard of doing them good any way, or seeking their profit, he only aimeth at this, to please them and follow their vein in all things by custom and use, bringing him that will give ear unto his words, to this pass, that he shall think vice to be virtue: working covertly and underhand for to deceive more cleanly, transforming virtue into vice, and making it nothing strange and coy to blame himself, for to do the more mischief afterwards to another: then he flattereth most when he maketh no semblance or shew at all that he mindeth any such thing, and exalteth up to the sky those that be most vicious and worst of all others, so they will give him entertainment. Likewise, for that flatterers shew themselves otherwhiles very forward and bold to speak their minds and to find fault, which is one of the best and surest marks of true friendship, he treateth consequently of this liberty and freedom of speech, and how a man may know whether there be any flattery therein or no. He declareth, therefore, how flatterers use this frank reprehension in vain and frivolous things, and never in those sins and gross faults which are indeed blameworthy: so that this manner of reprehension is a kind of soothing them up and lulling men asleep in their notorious vices: or else they charge them with faults clean contrary. Now after he hath shewed how a man should take heed and beware of them, he discourseth of those services which may make flatterers, and wherein the same differ from the offices and duties of friends, and in pursuing and prosecuting this antithesis, he proveth that a flatterer is prest and ready to do us pleasure in shameful matters, whereas a friend sheweth his good will in those that be honest: also that a flatterer is envious, and so is not a friend. And for that our nature is proud and blind withal, having need of good friends to guide and direct it, he describeth with what manner of eye and ear we ought to see and hear those that procure our good, albeit they may seem to carry with them a kind of severity. Meanwhile he exhorteth friends so to temper and qualify their liberty in reprehension that all impudency and importunate rigour be far from it. But forasmuch as this is (as it were) the principal thing in amity, he sheweth that first we must cut away self-love in all our reprehensions; and secondly all injurious, bitter and biting speeches: then he adjoineth, moreover, in what seasons, and upon what occurrences, a man ought to reprove and say his mind frankly: and with what dexterity he is to proceed: that is to say, that sometimes, yea, and more often, he ought to rebuke his friend apart, or under the person of another: wherein he is to look unto this, that he eschew all vainglory, and season his reprehensions with some praise among, to make them more acceptable and better taken. Consequently, he teacheth us how we must receive the advertisements, admonitions, and reprehensions of a true friend: and returning to the very point, indeed, of amity and friendship, he sheweth what mean a man should keep for to avert and turn away the neighbour vice, and to urge our friends forward to their devoir: adding, moreover, that all remonstrance and admonition ought to be tempered with niildness and lenity: wherein he concludeth this whole treatise, which I assure you is to be well read and marked in these days of all persons, but those especially who are advanced above others in worldly wealth or honourable place.]

Plato writeth (O Antiochus Philopappus) that all men do willingly pardon him who professeth that he loveth himself best: Howbeit thereby (quoth he) is engendered in us this fault and inconvenience among many others the greatest: that by this means no man can be a just judge of himself, but partial and favourable. For the lover is ordinarily blinded in the thing that he loveth, unless he have been taught, yea, and accustomed long before, to affect and esteem things honest above those that be his own properly, or inbred and familiar to him. This is it that giveth unto a flatterer that large field, under pretence of friendship, where he hath a fort (as it were) commodiously seated, and with the vantage to assail and endamage us, and that is self-love: whereby every man being the first and greatest flatterer of himself, he can be very well content to admit a stranger to come near and flatter him, namely, when he thinketh and is well willing withal to witness with him and to confirm that good self-conceit and opinion of his own. For even he who is justly reproached to be a lover of flatterers, loveth himself notwithstanding exceeding well: and for that good affection that he hath, is both very willing, yea, and fully persuaded also, that all good things are in himself: and the desire whereof is not simply bad and unlawful: but the persuasion is that it is dangerous and slippery, having need to be restrained with great heed and carefulness.

Now if truth be an heavenly thing, and the very source yielding all good things (as Plato saith), as well to the gods as to men: we ought thus to judge that a flatterer is an enemy to the gods, and principally to Apollo: For opposite he is always and contrary to this precept of his, Know thyself: causing a man to be abused and deceived by his own self, yea and to be ignorant of the good and evil things that be in him; in making the good gifts which are in him to be defective and unperfect: but the evil parts incorrigible and such as cannot be reformed. Now if it were so, that flattery (as the most part of other vices) touched either only or especially base, mean, and abject persons, it were perhaps neither so hurtful nor so hard to be avoided as it is. But like as worms breed most of all and soonest in frim, tender and sweet wood: even so, for the most part, the generous and gentle natures, and those minds that are more ingenuous, honest, amiable, and mild than others, are readiest to receive and nourish the flatterer that hangeth upon him. Moreover, as Simonides was wont to say, that the keeping of an esquiry or stable of horses, followeth not the lamp or oil cruet, but the rich cornfields: that is, it is not for poor men to entertain great horses, but those rather who are landed men and with their revenues able to maintain them: Even so, we see it is ordinary that flattery keepeth not company nor sorteth with poor folk, or such persons as live obscurely and are of no ability: but commonly it is the ruin and decay of great houses, and a malady incident to mighty states; which oftentimes undoeth and overthroweth whole monarchies, realms, and great seignories. In which regard it is no small matter, nor a thing that requireth little or no forecast and providence, to search and consider the nature thereof: lest being so active and busy as it is, and ready to meddle in every place (nothing so much), it do no hurt unto friendship, nor bring it into obloquy and discredit. For these flatterers resemble lice for all the world: And why? These vermin we see never haunt those that be dead, but leave and forsake the corpse so soon as ever the blood (whereof they were wont to feed) is extinct or deprived of vital spirit: Semblably, a man shall never see flatterers so much as approach unto such persons as are in decay, whose state is cracked and credit waxeth cool; but look where there is the glory of the world, where there is authority and power, thither they flock, and there they grow: no sooner is there a change of fortune but they sneak and slink away, and are no more seen.

But we ought not to attend so long and stay for this trial, being unprofitable, or rather hurtful and not without some danger: For it goeth very hard with a man, if at the very instant and not before, even when he hath most need of friendship, to peceive those to be no friends whom he took to be, and namely, when he hath not with him at hand a good and faithful friend, to exchange for him that is untrusty, disloyal and counterfeit. For if a man did well, he should be provided beforehand of an approved and tried friend, ere he have need to employ him, as well as of current and lawful money; and not then to make trial of him and find him faulty, when he is in greatest necessity and standeth in most need: For we ought not to make proof with our loss, and find him to be false to our cost and detriment; but contrariwise to be skilful in the means of smelling out a flatterer, that we receive no damage by him: For otherwise, that might befall us which happeneth unto those who for to know the force of deadly poisons, take the assay and taste first themselves thereof: well may they indeed come to the judgment thereof: but this skill is dearly bought, when they are sure to die for it.

And like as we do not commend such; no more can we praise and approve of those who measure friendship only by honesty and profit: thinking withal, that such as converse and company with them pleasantly are straightways to be attainted as flatterers, no less than if they were taken in the very act of flattery: For surely a friend should not be unpleasant and unsavoury, without any seasoning (as it were) of delightsome qualities: neither is friendship to be accounted venerable in this respect, that it is austere or bitter; but even that very beauty and gravity that it hath is sweet and desirable, and as the poet saith:

About her always seated be
Delightsome love and graces three.

And not he only who is in calamity

Doth great content and comfort find
To see the face of trusty friend,

according as Euripides saith, but true amity addeth no less grace, pleasure, and joy unto those that be in prosperity, than it easeth them of sorrow and grief who are in adversity. Evenus was wont to say that of all pleasant sauce, fire was the best and most effectual: And even so God having mingled friendship with this life of ours, hath made all things joyous, sweet, pleasant and acceptable, where a friend is present and enjoyeth his part. For otherwise a man cannot devise nor express how and in what sort a flatterer could insinuate himself and creep into favour, under the colour of pleasure, if he saw that friendship in the own nature never admitted anything that was pleasant and delectable. But like as false and counterfeit pieces of gold, which will not abide the touch, represent only the lustre and bright glittering of gold: So a flatterer resembling the sweet and pleasant behaviour of a friend, sheweth himself always jocund, merry and delightsome, without crossing at any time.

And therefore we ought not presently to suspect all them to be flatterers who are given to praise others: For otherwhiles to commend a man, so it be done in time and place convenient, is a property no less befitting a friend than to blame and reprehend: Nay, contrariwise, there is nothing so adverse and repugnant to amity and society than testiness, thwarting, complaining, and evermore fault-finding: whereas, if a man knoweth'the goodwill of his friend to be ever prest and ready to yield due praises, and those in full measure to things well done, he will bear more patiently and in better part another time his free reprehensions and reproof for that which is done amiss: for that he is verily persuaded of him that as he was willing enough to praise, so he was as loth to dispraise, and therefore taketh all in good worth.

A difficult matter then it is, will some one say, to discern a flatterer from a friend, seeing there is no difference between them, either in doing pleasure, or yielding praise: for otherwise, we see oftentimes, that in many services, courtesies and kindnesses besides, a flatterer is more ready and forward than a friend. True it is indeed we must needs say: a right hard matter it is to know the one from the other; especially if we speak of a right flatterer indeed, who is his own craftsmaster, and can skill how to handle the matter artificially, and with great cunning and dexterity: if (I say) we make no reckoning of them for flatterers, as the common people do, who are these ordinary smell-feasts, and as ready as flies to light in every dish: these parasites (I say), whose tongue (as one said very well) will be walking so soon as men have washed their hands and be ready to sit down to meat, cogging and soothing up their good masters at every word, who have no honesty at all in them, and whose scurrility, profane and irreligious impurity a man shall soon find with one dish of meat and cup of wine. For surely there was no great need to detect and convince the flattery of Melanthius, the parasite and jester of Alexander Pheraeus the Tyrant, who being asked upon a time how Alexander his good lord and master was murdered, Marry, with a thrust (quoth he) of a sword, which went in at his side, and ran as far as into my belly: neither of such as a man shall never see to fail, but where there is a good house and plentiful table kept, they will be sure to gather round about it, in such sort as there is no fire nor iron grates, or brass gates, can keep them back, but they will be ready to put their foot under the board: no, nor of those women who in times past were called in Cypres, colacides, i.e. flatteresses; but after they were come to Syria, men named them climacides, as one would say, ladderesses, for that they used to lie along, and to make their backs stepping-stools or ladders as it were for queens and great men's wives to get upon when they would mount into their coaches.

What kind of flatterer then is it so hard and yet needful to beware of? Forsooth, even of him who seemeth none such, and professeth nothing less than to flatter: whom a man shall never find about the kitchen where the good meat is dressed, nor take measuring of shadows to know how the day goes, and when it is dinner or supper time: nor yet see drunken and lying along the ground untowardly, and full like a beast: But for the most part sober he is enough; he loveth to be a curious polypragmon; he will have an oar in every boat, and thinks he is tc intermeddle in all matters; he hath a mind to be privy and party in all deep secrets; and in one word, he carrieth himself like a grave tragedian, and not as a comical and satirical player, and under that visor and habit he counterfeiteth a friend. For according to the saying of Plato, it is the greatest and most extreme injustice for a man to make semblance of being just when he is not: even so we are to think that flattery of all others to be most dangerous, which is covert and not apert or professed; which is serious (I say) and not practised by way of jest and sport.

And verily such glozing and flattery as this causeth men oftentimes to mistrust true friendship indeed, and doth derogate much from the credit thereof: for that in many things it jumpeth so even therewith, unless a man take very good heed and look narrowly into it. True it is, that Gobrias being run into a dark and secret room, together with one of the usurping tyrants of Persia, called Magi, whom he pursued hard, and at handy gripes struggling, grappling, and wrestling close together, cried out unto Darius coming into the place with a naked sword, and doubting to thrust at the usurper, for fear he should run Gobrias through also, Thrust hardly and spare not (quoth he), though you dispatch us both at once.

But we who in no wise can allow of that common saying, Let a friend perish, so he take an enemy with him: but are desirous to pluck and part a flatterer from a friend, with whom he is coupled and interlaced by means of so many resemblances: we (I say) have great cause to fear and beware that we do not cast and reject from us the good with the bad: or least in pardoning and accepting that which is agreeable and familiar unto us, we fall upon that which is hurtful and dangerous. For like as among wild seeds of another kind, those that being of the same form, fashion, and bigness with the grains of wheat are intermingled therewith, a man shall hardly try out from the rest, for that they will not pass through the holes of the sieve, ruddle or try, if they be narrow; and in case they be large and wide, out goeth the good corn together with them; even so it is passing hard to separate flattery from friendship, being so intermeddled therewith in all accidents, motions, affairs, dealings, employment, and conversation as it is. For considering that a flatterer seeth well enough that there is nothing in the world so pleasurable as friendship, nor yieldeth more contentment unto man than it doth: He windeth himself into favour by means of pleasure, and wholly is employed to procure mirth and delight. Also for that both grace and commodity doth always accompany amity; in which regard the common proverb saith, that a friend is more necessary than either fire or water. Therefore a flatterer is ready to put himself forward, and offereth his service with all double diligence, striving in all occasions, and businesses to be ever prompt and officious. And because the principal thing that linketh and bindeth friendship sure at the beginning, is the conformity and likeness of manners, studies, endeavours, and inclinations, and in one word, seeing that to be like affected, and to shew pleasure or displeasure in the same things, is the chief matter that knitteth amity and both combineth, and also keepeth men together, by a certain mutual correspondence in natural affections: the flatterer knowing so much, composeth his nature (as it were) some unformed matter ready to receive all sorts of impressions, studying to frame and accommodate himself wholly to all those things that he taketh in hand; yea, and to resemble those persons just by way of imitation whom he meaneth to set upon and deceive, as being supple, soft, and pliable, to represent them lively in every point, so as a man may say of him after this manner:

Achilles' son think you he is?
Nay, even Achilles himself iwis.

But the craftiest cast of all other that he hath is this, that seeing (as he doth) liberty of speech (both in truth and also according to the opinion and speech of the whole world) to be the proper voice of friendship (as a man would say) of some living creature; insomuch, as where there is not this freedom of speaking frankly, there is no true friendship nor generosity indeed. In this point also he will not seem to come short, nor leave it behind for want of imitation; but after the fashion of fine and excellent cooks, who use to serve up tart, bitter and sharp sauces together with sweet and pleasant meats, for to divert and take away the satiety and fulness which soon followeth them, these flatterers also use a certain kind of plain and free speech; howbeit, neither sincere and natural is it, nor profitable, but (as we commonly say) from teeth outward, or (as it were) beckoning and winking slightly with the eye under the brows, not touching the quick, but tickling aloft only, to no purpose.

Well, in these respects above specified, hardly and with much ado is a flatterer discovered, and taken in the manner; much like unto those beasts who by nature have this property, to change their colour, and in hue to resemble that bodily matter or place whereon they settle, and which they touch. Seeing then it is so, that he is so apt to deceive folk, and lieth hidden under the likeness of a friend; our part it is, by unfolding the differences that are so hidden, to turn him out of his masking habit, and being despoiled of those colours and habiliments that he borroweth of others, for want of his own (as Plato saith), to lay him naked and open to the eye: let us therefore enter into this discourse, and fetch it from the very first beginning.

We have already said that the original of friendship among men (for the most part) is our conformity of nature and inclination, embracing the same customs and manners, loving the same exercises, affecting the same studies, and delighting in the same actions and employments: concerning which these verses well and fitly run:

Old folk love best with aged folk to talk,
And with their feers young children to disport:
Women once met, do let their tongues to walk,
With sick likewise, sick persons best do sort:
The wretched man his miseries doth lament
With those whose state like fortunes do torment.

The flatterer, then, being well aware that it is a thing naturally inbred in us, to delight in those that are like ourselves, to converse with them, and to use and love them above all others, endeavoureth first and foremost to draw and approach, yea, and to lodge near unto him whom he meaneth to enveigle and compass, even as if he went about in some great pasture to make toward one beast, whom he purposeth to tame and bring to hand, by little and little joining close unto him, as it were, to be concorporated in the same studies and exercises, in the same affections, employments and course of life: and this he doth so long, until the party whom he layeth for, have given him some advantage to take hold by, as suffering himself gently to be touched, clawed, handled, and stroked; during which time, he letteth slip no opportunity to blame those persons, to reprove those things and courses of life which he perceiveth the other to hate: contrariwise, to praise and approve all that which he knoweth him to take delight in: and this he doeth not after an ordinary manner and in a mean, but excessively and beyond all measure, with a kind of admiration and wonder; confirming this love or hatred of his to a thing, not as if he had received these impressions from some sudden passion, but upon a staid and settled judgment.

Which being so: how and by what different marks shall he be known and convinced that he is not the like or the same in deed, but only a counterfeit of the like and of the same? First, a man must consider well whether there be an uniform equality in all his intentions and actions or no? whether he continue and persist still, taking pleasure in the same things, and praising the same at all times? whether he compose and direct his life according to one and the same mould and pattern? like as it becometh a man who is an ingenuous lover of that friendship and conversation which is ever after one manner, and always like itself: for such a one indeed is a true friend. But a flatterer contrariwise is one who hath no one permanent seat in his manners and behaviour, nor hath made choice of any life for his own content, but only to please another, as framing and applying his actions wholly to the humour of another, is never simple, uniform, nor like himself, but variable and changing always from one form to another, much like as water which is poured out of one vessel into another, even as it runneth forth, taketh the form and fashion of that vessel which receiveth it. And herein he is clean contrary to the ape; for the ape as it should seem, thinking to counterfeit a man, by turning, hopping, and dancing as he doth, is quickly caught: but the flatterer, whiles he doth imitate and counterfeit others, doth entice and draw them, as it were, with a pipe or call, into his net, and so beguileth them. And this he doeth not always after one manner; for with one he danceth and singeth; with another he will seem to wrestle, or otherwise to exercise the body in feats of activity: if he chance to meet with a man that loveth to hunt, and to keep hounds, him he will follow hard at heels, setting out a throat as loud in a manner as Hippolytus in the tragedy Phædra, crying,

So ho, this is my joy and only good,
With cry to lure, with tooting horn to wind.
By leave of gods to bring into the wood
My hounds, to rouse and chase the dapple hind.

And yet hath he nothing to do at all with the wild beasts of the forest, but it is the hunter himself whom he layeth for to take within his net and toil. And say that he light upon a young man that is a student and given to learning, then you shall see him also as deep poring upon his book, and always in his study; you shall have him let his beard grow down to his foot, like a grave philosopher: who but he then, in his side threadbare student's cloak, after the Greek fashion, as if he had no care of himself, nor joy of anything else in the world: not a word then in mouth, but of the numbers, orthangles and triangles of Plato. If peradventure there fall into his hands an idle do-nothing, who is rich withal, and a good fellow, one that loveth to eat and drink and make good cheer,

That wily fox Ulysses though
His ragged garments will off do,

off goes then his bare and overworn studying gown, his beard he causeth to be cut and shorn as near as a new mown field in harvest, when all the com is gone: no talk then but of flagons, bottles, pots, and cooling pans to keep the wine cold: nothing now but merry conceits to move laughter in every walking place and gallery of pleasure: Now he letteth fly frumps and scoffs against scholars and such as study philosophy.

Thus by report it fell out upon a time at Syracuse: For when Plato thither arrived, and Denys all on a sudden was set upon a furious fit of love to philosophy, his palace and whole court was full of dust and sand, by reason of the great recourse thither of students in geometry, who did nothing but draw figures therein. But no sooner had Plato incurred his displeasure and was out of favour: no sooner had Denys the Tyrant bidden philosophy farewell, and given himself again to belly-cheer, to wine, vanities, wantonness, and all looseness of life: but all at once it seemed the whole court was transformed likewise (as it were by the sorcery and enchantment of Circes) into hatred and detestation of good letters; so as they forgat all goodness, and betook themselves to folly and sottishness.

To this purpose it were not amiss for to allege as testimonies the fashions and acts of some notorious flatterers, such, I mean, as have governed commonwealths and affected popularity. Among whom the greatest of all other was Alcibiades, who all the while he was at Athens used to scoff, and had a good grace in merry conceits and pleasant jests: he kept great horses, and lived in jollity, most gallantly, with the love and favour of all men: when he sojourned in Sparta, he went always shaven to the bare skin, in an overworn cloak, or else the same very coarse, and never washed his body but in cold water. Afterwards, being in Thrace, he became a soldier, and would carouse and drink lustily with the best. He came no sooner to Tissaphernes in Asia, but he gave himself to voluptuousness and pleasure, to riot, wantonness, and superfluous delights: Thus throughout the whole course of his life he won the love of all men, by framing himself to their humours and fashions wheresoever he came. Such were not Epaminondas and Agesilaus: For albeit they conversed with many sorts of people, travelled divers cities, and saw sundry fashions and manners of strange nations; yet they never changed their behaviour, they were the same men still, retaining evermore a decent port which became them, in their apparel, speech, diet, and their whole carriage and demeanour. Plato likewise was no changeling, but the same man at Syracuse that he was in the academy or college at Athens: and look, what his carriage was before Dion, the same it was and no other in Denys his court.

But that man may very easily find out the variable changes of a flatterer, as of the fish called the pourcuttle, who will but strain a little and take the pains to play the dissembler himself, making shew as if he likewise were transformed into divers and sundry fashions; namely in misliking the course of his former life, and suddenly seeming to embrace those things which he rejected before, whether it be in diet, action or speech: For then he shall soon see the flatterer also to be inconstant, and not a man of himself, taking love or hatred to this or that, joying or grieving at a thing, upon any affection of his own that leadeth him thereto, for that he receiveth always as a mirror the images of the passions, motions and lives of other men.

If you chance to blame one of your friends before him, what will he say by and by? Ah well, you have found him out I see now at last, though it were long first: Iwis I liked him not, a great while ago: Contrariwise, if your mind alter, so that you happen to fall a praising of him again: Very well done, will he say, and bind it with an oath, I con you thank for that: I am very glad for the man's sake, and I believe no less of him. Do you break with him about the alteration of your life, and bear him in hand that you mean to take another course, as for example, to give over state affairs, to betake yourself to a more private and quiet life. Yea, marry (quoth he), and then you do well, it is more than high time so to do: For long since we should have been disburdened of these troubles so full of envy and peril. Make him believe once that you will change your copy, and that you are about to shake off this idle life, and to betake yourself unto the commonweal, both to rule and also to speak in public place: you shall have him to soothe you up and second your song, with these and such-like responds: A brave mind (believe me) and beseeming a man of your worth and good parts: For to say a truth, this idle and private life, though it be pleasant, and have ease enough, yet it is but base, abject, and dishonourable; when you find him there once, muffle his nose immediately with this posy:

Good sir, methinks you soon do turn your style,
You seem much chang'd from him you were erewhile.

I have no need of such a friend, that will alter as I do, and follow me every way (for my shadow can do that much better); I had rather have one that with me will follow the truth, and judge according to it and not otherwise. Avaunt, therefore, I will have nought to do with thee. Thus you see one way to discover a flatterer.

A second difference we ought to observe in his imitations and resemblances, for a true friend doth not imitate all that he seeth him whom he loveth to do; neither is he forward in praising everything, but that only which is best: For according to Sophocles:

In love he would his fellow be,
But not in hate and enmity.

And verily one friend is ready and willing to assist another in well-doing and in honest life, and never will yield to be companion in lewdness, or help him to commit any wicked and heinous fact; unless peradventure through the ordinary conversation, and continual acquaintance together, he be tainted with infection of some ill quality and vicious condition, even against his will and ere he be well aware: much like as they who by contagion catch rheumatic and bleared eyes: or as the familiar friends and scholars (by report) of Plato did imitate him in stooping forward: and those of Aristotle in his stammering and maffing speech; and the courtiers of Alexander the Great in bending of his neck and rough voice when he spake.

For even so, some there be who receive impression of their manners and conditions at unawares and against their wills. But contrariwise, it fareth with a flatterer even as with the chameleon; for as he can take upon him any colour save only white; semblably, a flatterer cannot possibly frame himself to anything that good is and of importance: but there is no naughtiness and badness in the world which he will not quickly imitate. And well I may compare such fellows to ill painters, who when through insufficiency in their art they be not able to draw to the life, the beauty and favour of a good face, will be sure yet to express the rivels, warts, moles, freckles, scars and such-like deformities. For even so a flatterer can imitate very passing well, incontinency, foolish superstition, hastiness and choler, bitterness towards household servants, distrust and diffidence in friends and kinsfolk, yea, and treachery against them: for that by nature he is always inclined to the worse; and besides, so far he would be thought from blaming vice, that he undertaketh to imitate the same. For those that seek for amendment of life and reformation of manners are ever suspected: such (I say) as shew themselves displeased and offended at the faults and misdemeanours of their friends. And this was it that made Dion odious to Denys the Tyrant, Samius to Philip, and Cleomenes to Ptolemaeus, and in the end was their ruin and overthrow.

The flatterer who desireth to be both pleasant and faithful at once, or at leastwise so to be reputed, for excessive love and friendship that he pretendeth, will not seem to be offended with his friend for any lewd parts, but in all things would be thought to carry the same affection, and to be in manner of the same nature and incorporate into him: whereupon it cometh to pass also that even in casual things and the occurrences of this life, which happen without our will and counsel, he will needs have a part, there is no remedy. This, if he be disposed to flatter sick persons, he will make as though he were sick also of the same disease for company: and if he have to do with such as be dim-sighted or hard of hearing, he will be thought neither to see nor hear well for fellowship. Thus the flatterers about Denys the Tyrant, when he had an impediment in his eyes that he could not see clearly, feigned that themselves likewise were half blind, and to make it good, hit one upon another at the board, and overthrew the dishes upon the table as they sate at supper.

Others there be that proceed farther than so, and because they would appear more touched with a fellow-feeling of affections, will enter as far as to the very inward secrets that are not to be revealed. For if they can perceive that they whom they do flatter be not fortunate in their marriage, or that they are grown into distrust, jealousy, and sinister opinion, either of their own children or their near kinsfolk and familiars; they spare not themselves but begin to complain, and that with grief of heart and sorrow of their own wives and children, of their kindred and friends, laying abroad some criminous matters, which were better (iwis) to be concealed and smothered, than uttered and revealed. And this resemblance and likeness that they take upon themselves causeth them to seem more affectionate and fuller of compassion. The other then, thus flattered, thinking that by this means they have received from them a sufficient pawn and assurance of their fidelity, stick not to let fall from their mouth some matter of secrecy also; and when they have once committed it unto them, then they are ever after bound to use them, yea, and be afraid to mistrust them in anything. I myself knew one who seemed to put away his own wedded wife because his friend whom he flattered had divorced his before: and when he had so done, was known to go secretly unto her, and messengers there were who passed to and fro between them underhand: which the divorced wife of the other perceived and found out well enough. Certes, little knew he what a flatterer was, and he had no experience of him who thought these iambic verses to express the sea-crab better than him:

A beast whose body and belly are meet.
The eye doth serve each way to see:
With teeth it creeps, they stand for feet,
Aread now what creature this may be?

For this is the very portraiture and image of a parasite, who keeps about the frying-pan (as Eupolis saith) of his good friends, and waiteth where the cloth is laid.

But as touching these things, let us refer them to their proper place for to be discoursed more at large. Howbeit, for the present let us not leave behind us one notable device and cunning cast, that a flatterer hath in his imitations; to wit, that if he do counterfeit some good quality that is in him whom he doth flatter, yet he giveth him always the upper hand: For among those that be true friends there is no emulation at all, no jealousy or envy between one and another; but whether they be equal in well-doing or come behind, they take all in good part and never grieve at the matter. But the flatterer, bearing well in mind that he in every place is to play the second part, yieldeth always in his imitation the equality from himself, and doth affect to counterfeit another so as he will be the inferior, giving the superiority unto the other in all things but those which are naught, for therein he challengeth to himself the victory over his friend. If he be somewhat malcontent and hard to be pleased, then will the flatterer profess himself to be stark melancholic: if his friend be somewhat too religious or superstitious, then will he make semblance as though he were rapt and transported altogether with the fear of the gods: If the other be amorous, he will be in love furious: when the other saith I laughed a good; but I (will he say again) laughed until I was well near dead. But in good things it is clean contrary, for when he speaketh of good footmanship he will say, I run swiftly indeed; but you fly away. Again, I sit a horse and ride reasonable well; but what is that to this hippo-centaur here for good horsemanship? Also, I have a pretty gift in poetry (I must needs say) and am not the worst versifier in the world; but

To thunder verses I have no skill.
To Jupiter there leave that I will:

In these and such-like speeches two things at once he doth: for first he seemeth to approve the enterprise of the other as singular good, because he doth imitate him; and secondly, he sheweth that his sufficiency therein is incomparable and not to be matched, in that he confesseth himself to come short of him. And thus much of the different marks between a flatterer and a friend as touching their resemblances.

Now, forasmuch as there is a community of delectation and pleasure in them both (as I have said before), for that an honest man taketh no less joy and comfort in his friends than a lewd person in flatterers, let us consider likewise the distinction between them in this behalf. The only way to distinguish them asunder in this point is to mark the drift and end of the delectation, both in the one and the other; which a man may see more clearly by this example: There is in a sweet ointment an odoriferous smell; so is there also in an antidote or medicine; but herein lieth the difference, for that in the ointment abovesaid there is a reference to pleasure only, and to nothing else; but in the antidote, beside the delectation that the odour yieldeth, there is a respect also of some medicinable virtue, namely, either to purge and cleanse the body, or to heat and chafe it, or else to incarnate and make new flesh to come.

Again, painters do grind and mix fresh colours and lively tinctures; so the apothecary hath drugs and medicines of a beautiful and pleasant colour to the eye, that it would do a man good to look upon them. But wherein is the difference? Is there any man so gross that conceiveth not readily that the odds lieth in the use or end for which both the one and the other be ordained? Semblably the mutual offices and kindnesses that pass from friend to friend, beside the honesty and profit that they have, bring with them also that which is pleasing and delectable, as if some dainty and lively flowers grew thereupon: For sometime friends use plays and pastimes one with another: they invite one another, they eat and drink together: yea, and otherwhiles (believe me) you shall have them make themselves merry and laugh heartily, jesting, gauding, and disporting one with another; all which serve as pleasant sauces to season their other serious and honest affairs of great weight and consequence. And to this purpose serve well these verses:

With pleasant discourses from one to another
They made themselves merry, being met together.

Also:

And nothing else disjoined our amity,
Nor parted our pleasures and mutual jollity.

But the whole work of a flatterer, and the only mark that he shooteth at, is always to devise, prepare, and confect, as it were, some play or sport, some action and speech, with pleasure and to do pleasure. And to knit up all briefly in one word, he is of opinion that he ought to do all for to be pleasant: whereas the true friend, doing always that which his duty requireth, many times pleaseth, and as often again he is displeasant: not that his intention is to displease at any time; howbeit, if he see it expedient and better so to do, he will not stick to be a little harsh and unpleasant. For like as a physician, when need requireth, putteth in some saffron or spikenard into his medicine: yea and otherwhile permitteth his patient a delicate bath, or liberal and dainty diet to his full contentment: but sometimes for it again, leaving out all sweet odours, casteth in castoreum,

Or polium which strong scent doth yield.
And stinks most of all herbs in field,

or else he bruiseth and stampeth some ellebore, and forceth his patient to drink of that potion: not proposing either in the former medicine pleasure, nor in the latter displeasure for the end: but both by the one and the other training the sick person under his hand to one and the same effect of his cure, to wit, his good and the health of his body; even so it is with a true friend: one while with praises and gracious words he extolleth and cheereth up his friend, inciting him thereby always to that which is good and honest, as he in Homer:

Dear heart. Sir Teucer, worthy son
Of Telamon that knight.
Come, prince and flower or valiant knights.
Shoot thus your arrow's flight.

And another:

How can I ever put out of mind
Heavenly Ulysses, a prince so kind?

Contrariwise, another while where there is need of chastisement and correction, he will not spare but use sharp and biting words: yea, and that free speech which carrieth with it an affection careful to do good, and such as indeed beseemeth a tutor and governor, much after this manner:

What, Menelaus! however that
From Jupiter you descend:
You play the fool, for folly such
I cannot you commend.

It falleth out so likewise, that sometime he addeth deeds to words. And thus Menedemus shut the door against the son of Asclepiades his friend, and would not deign once to salute him, because he was a riotous youth, and lived dissolutely and out of all order: by which means he was reclaimed from loose life, and became an honest man. Arcesilaus in like manner excluded Battus out of his school, and would not suffer him to enter, because in a comedy that he composed, he had made one verse against Cleanthes; but afterwards, Battus repenting of that he had done, and making satisfaction unto Cleanthes, was pardoned and received again into his favour. For a man may offend his friend with intention to do him good; but he must not proceed so far in displeasing him that thereby he break or undo the knot of friendship: he ought (I say) to use a sharp rebuke, as a physician doth some bitter or tart medicine, to save or preserve the life of his patient.

And a good friend is to play the part of a musician, who to bring his instrument into tune and so to keep it, setteth up these strings, and letteth down those: and so ought a friend to exchange profit with pleasure, and use one with another, as occasion serveth, observing this rule, oftentimes to be pleasing unto his friend, but always profitable: whereas the flatterer, being used evermore to sing one note, and to play upon the same string, that is to say, to please: and in all his words and deeds to aim at nothing else but the contentment of him whom he flattereth, cannot skill either in act to resist, or in speech to reprove and offend him; but goeth on still in following his humour, according always with him in one tune, and keeping the same note just with him.

Now, as Xenophon writeth of King Agesilaus, that he was well apaid to be commended of them who he knew would also blame him if there were cause; so we are to think well of friendship when it is pleasant, delightsome, and cheerful, if otherwhiles also it can displease and cross again; but to have in suspicion the conversation and acquaintance of such as never do or say anything but that which is pleasing, continually keeping one course without change, never rubbing where the gall is, nor touching the sore, without reproof and contradiction. We ought (I say) to have ready always in remembrance the saying of an ancient Laconian, who hearing King Charilaus so highly praised and extolled; And how possibly (quoth he) can he be good who is never sharp or severe unto the wicked? The gadfly (as they say) which useth to plague bulls and oxen, settleth about their ears, and so doth the tick deal by dogs: after the same manner, flatterers take hold of ambitious men's ears, and possess them with praises; and being once set fast there, hardly are they to be removed and chased away.

And here most needful it is that our judgment be watchful and observant, and do discern whether these praises be attributed to the thing or the person; we shall perceive that the thing itself is praised, if they commend men rather absent than in place: also if they desire and affect that themselves which they do so like and approve in others: again, if they praise not us alone, but all others, for the semblable qualities: likewise, if they neither say nor do one thing now, and another time the contrary. But the principal thing of all other is this. If we ourselves know in our own secret conscience that we neither repent nor be ashamed of that for which they so commend us; nor yet wish in our hearts that we had said or done the contrary: for the inward judgment of our mind and soul bearing witness against such praises, and not admitting thereof, is void of affections and passions, whereby it neither can be touched nor corrupted and surprised by a flatterer. Howbeit, I know not how it Cometh about, that the most part of men cannot abide nor receive the consolations which be ministered unto them in their adversities, but rather take delight and comfort in those that weep, lament and mourn with them: and yet the same men having offended or being delinquent in any duty, if one come and find fault or touch them to the quick therefore, do strike and imprint into their hearts remorse and repentance, they take him for no better than an accuser and enemy: contrariwise, let one highly commend and magnify that which they have done; him they salute and embrace, him they account their well-wilier and friend indeed.

Now, whosoever they be that are ready to praise and extol with applause and clapping of hands that which one hath done or said, were it in earnest or in game; such (I say) are dangerous and hurtful for the present only, and in those things which are next hand: but those who with their praises pierce as far as to the manners within, and with their flatteries proceed to corrupt their inward natures and dispositions, I can liken unto those slaves or household servants who rob their masters, not only of that com which is in the heap and lieth in the gamers, but also of the very seed; for the inclination and towardness of a man are the seed that bring forth all his actions, and the habitude of conditions and manners are the very source and head from whom runneth the course of our whole life, which they pervert in giving to vices the names of virtues.

Thucydides in his story writeth: That during civil seditions and wars men transferred the accustomed significations of words unto other things, for to justify their deeds: for desperate rashness, without all reason, was reputed valour, and called love-friend: provident delay and temporising was taken for decent cowardice: modesty and temperance was thought to be a cloak of effeminate unmanliness: a prudent and wary circumspection in all things was held for a general sloth and idleness. According to which precedent we are to consider and observe in flatterers how they term prodigality by the name of liberality; cowardice is nothing with them but heedful wariness: brain-sickness they entitle promptitude, quickness, and celerity: base and mechanical niggardise they account temperate frugality. Is there one full of love and given to be amorous? him they call good fellow, a boon-companion, a man of a kind and good nature. See they one hasty, wrathful, and proud withal? him they will have to be hardy, valiant and magnanimous: contrariwise, one of a base mind and abject spirit they will grace with the attribute of fellow-like, and full of humanity. Much like to that which Plato hath written in one place: That the amorous lover is a flatterer of those whom he loveth. For if they be flat-nosed like a shoeing-hom, such they call lovely and gracious: be they hawk-nosed like a griffin. Oh, that is a kingly sight, say they: those that be black of colour are manly: white of complexion be God's children. And as for the term melichriis, that is, honey-coloured, it is always (verily) a flattering word , devised by a lover, to mitigate and diminish the odiousness of a pale hue, which he seemeth by that sweet name not to mislike, but to take in the best part. And verily, if he that is foul and ill-favoured be borne in hand that he is fair and beautiful, or one of small and low stature made believe that he is goodly and tall; he neither continueth long in this his error, neither is the damage that he sustaineth thereby grievous and great, nor unrecoverable: but the praises which induce and inure a man to believe that vice is virtue, insomuch that he is nothing at all discontented in his sin and grieved therefore, but rather taketh pleasure therein: those also which take away from us all shame and abashment to commit faults; such were they that brought the Sicihans to ruin, and gave them occasion to beautify or colour the tyranny and cruelty of Denys and Phalaris with the goodly names of justice and hatred of wickedness: These were the overthrow of Egypt, in cloaking the effeminate wantonness, the furious superstition, the yelling noises after a fanatical manner of King Ptolemseus, together with the marks that he carried of lilies and tabours in his body, with the glorious names of devotion, religion, and the service of the gods.

And this was it that at the same time went very near and had like to have corrupted and spoiled for ever the manners and fashions of the Romans, which before were so highly reputed, to wit, naming the riotousness of Antony, his looseness, his superfluous delights, his sumptuous shews and public feasts, with their profusion and wasting of so much money, by smooth and gentle terms of courtesies, and merriments full of humanity, by which disguisements and pretexts his fault was mollified or diminished in abusing so excessively the grandeur of his puissance and fortune. And what was it else that made Ptolemaeus to put on the mask or muzzle (as it were) of a piper, and to hang about him pipes and flutes? What was it that caused Nero to mount up the stage to act tragedies, with a vizor over his face and buskins on his legs? was it not the praise of such flatterers as these? And are not most of our kings being when they sing small and fine, after a puling manner, saluted Apollos for their music: and if they drink until they be drunk, honoured with the names of Bacchus, the god of wine: and when they seem a little to wrestle or try some feats of activity, styled by and by with the glorious addition of Hercules, brought (think you) to exceeding dishonour and shame by this gross flattery, taking such pleasure as they do in these gallant surnames.

And therefore we had most need to beware of a flatterer in the praises which he giveth, which himself is not ignorant of, but being careful and very subtle in avoiding all suspicion, if haply he meet with one of these fine fools and delicate minions, well set out in gay apparel: or some rustical thick-skin, carrying on his back a good leather pilch; or (as they say) one that feedeth grossly: such he will not spare, but abuse with broad flattery, and make common laughing-stocks of them: Like as Struthias, making a very ass of Bias, and riding him up and down, yea, and insulting upon him for his sottishness with praises that he would seem to hang upon him: Thou hast (quoth he) drunk more than King Alexander the Great, and with that, turning to Cyprius, laughed as hard as ever he could till he was ready to sink again.

But if a flatterer chance to deal with them that be more civil and elegant, and do perceive that they have a special eye unto him in this point, namely, that they stand well upon their guard in this place for fear lest they be surprised by him: then he goes not to work directly in praising of them, but he keepeth aloof, he fetcheth about many compasses a great way off at first, afterwards by little and little he winneth some ground and approacheth nearer and nearer, making no noise until he can touch and handle them, much after the manner of those that come about wild beasts, assaying how to bring them to hand and make them tame and gentle. For one while he will report to such a one the praises that some other give out of him: imitating herein the rhetoricians who many times in their orations speak in the third person, and after this manner he will begin: I was not long since (quoth he) in the market-place, where I had some talk with certain strangers and other ancient personages of good worth, whom I was glad at the heart to hear how they recounted all the good in the world of you, and spake wonderfully in your commendation. Otherwhiles he will devise and fetch out of his own fingers' ends some light imputations against him, yet all forged and false, agreeable to his person and condition, making semblance as if he had heard others what they said of him, and very cunningly will he close with him, and bear him in hand that he is come in all haste to know of him, whether ever he said or did so as was reported of him: And if the other do deny it (as it is no other like but he will), thereupon he takes occasion to enter into the praise and commendation of the man in this wise: I marvel truly how that you should abuse and speak ill of any of your familiars and friends, who were never wont so much as to miscall or say otherwise than well of your very enemies? or how it possibly could be that you should be ready to gape after other men's goods, who use to be so liberal and bountiful of your own?

Other flatterers there be, who like as painters do set up their colours and to give them more beautiful light and lustre unto them, lay near unto them others that be more dark and shadowy: so they, in blaming, reproving, reproaching, traducing and deriding the contrary virtues to those vices which are in them whom they mean to flatter, covertly and underhand do praise and approve those faults and imperfections that they have, and so in praising and allowing, do feed and cherish the same: As, for example, if they be among prodigal ding-thrifts and wasters, riotous persons, covetous misers, mischievous wretches, and such as have raked and scraped goods together by hook and crook, and by all indirect means they care not how: before them they will speak basely of temperance and abstinence, calling it rusticity: and as for those that live justly and with a good conscience, contenting themselves with their estate, and therein reposing sufficance, those they will nickname heartless and base-minded folk, altogether insufficient to do or dare anything. If it fall out that they converse and be in company with such as be idle lusks and love to sit still at home and do nothing, forbearing to meddle with ordinary affairs abroad in the world: they will not bash to find fault with policy and civil government, calling the managing of state matters and commonweal a thankless intermeddling in other men's affairs, with much travail and no profit. And as for the mind and desire to be a magistrate and to sit in place of authority, they will not let to say it is vainglory and ambition, altogether fruitless. For to flatter and claw an orator they will reprove in his presence a philosopher. Among light huswives that be wantonly given, they win the price, and are very well accepted, if they call honest matrons and chaste dames (who content themselves with their own husbands, and them love alone) rude and rustical women, untaught, ill bred, unlovely and having no grace with them.

But herein is the very height of wickedness, that these flatterers for advantage will not spare their own selves: For like as wrestlers debase their own bodies and stoop down low otherwhiles, for to overthrow their fellows that wrestle with them, and to lay them along on the ground; so in blaming and finding many faults with themselves they wind in and creep closely to the praise and admiration of others: I am (quoth one of them) a very coward, and no better than a very slave at sea; I can away with no labour and travail in the world; I am all in a heat of choler, and raging mad, if I hear that one hath given me any bad terms; marry, as for this man (meaning him whom he flattereth), he casteth doubts at no peril and danger, all is one with him, sea or land, he can endure all hardness, and he counteth nothing painful, no hurt there is in him, a singular man he is, and hath not his fellow, he is angry at nothing, he beareth all with patience. But say he meet with one at a venture, which standeth upon his own bottom, and hath some great opinion of his own sufficiency for wit and understanding, who hath a desire to be austere, and not to depend upon the conceits of others, but resteth in his own judgment; and upon a certain uprightness in himself, eftsoons hath these verses in his mouth:

Sir Diomede, do not me praise
So much to more or less,
Nor out of measure me dispraise,
I love not such excess.

This flatterer, then, who is his own craftsmaster and hath thoroughly learned his trade, goeth not the old way to work in setting upon him, but he hath another engine and device in store to assail such a grim sir withal. He will make an errand to him for counsel in his own affairs, as being the man whom he esteemeth to have more wit and wisdom than himself. There be divers others (quoth he) with whom I have better acquaintance and familiarity than with yourself: Howbeit, sir, I am forced of necessity to make bold and to importune you a little: For whither else should we Ingram men repair that have need of advice? and to whom are we to have recourse in matters of trust and secrecy? And then, after he hath heard once what he will say, and it makes no matter what it be; he will take his leave, saying that he hath received not counsel from a man, but an oracle from some god. Now before he departeth, if haply he perceive that he taketh upon him good skill and insight in literature, he will present unto him some compositions of his own penning, praying him withal to peruse them, yea, and to correct the same. Mithridates, the king, affected and loved the art of physic very well: by reason whereof some of his familiar friends about him came and offered themselves to be cut and cauterised by him: which was a mere flattery in deed and not in word. For it seemed that they gave great testimony of his skill, in that they put their lives into his hands:

Of subtile spirits, thus you may see,
That many forms and shapes there be.

But this kind of dissimuled praises, requiring greater and more wary circumspection to be taken heed of, if a man would detect and convince, he ought of purpose, when he is tempted and assailed with such flattery, to obtrude and propose unto the flatterer absurd counsel, if he seem to demand and ask it: advertisements also and precepts of the same kind, yea, and corrections without all sense and to no purpose, when he shall offer his labours to be read and perused: In so doing, if he perceive the party suspected to be a flatterer, doth not gainsay nor contradict anything, but alloweth of all and receiveth the same, yea, and more than that, when he shall to every point cry out and say, Oh, well said and sufficiently: excellent wit: be sure then he is caught in a trap: then I say it will be found plainly according to the common byword.

That when he did a watchword crave.
Some other thing he sought to have:
Or as we say (in proverb old),
Draff was his errand, but drink he would;

that is to say, he waited for some occasion and opportunity by praising to puff him up with vanity and overweaning of himself. Moreover, like as some have defined painting to be a mute poesy; even so praising is a kind of silent and secret flattery. Hunters (we see), then, soonest deceive the poor beasts, when they seem to do nothing less than to hunt, making semblance as though they either travelled like wayfaring men, or tended their flocks, or else tilled the ground. Semblably flatterers touch those whom they flatter nearest and enter to the very quick by praising, when they make no shew thereof, but seem to do nothing less than praise. For he that giveth the chair and seat to another coming in place, or as he is making an oration either in public place before the people or in council house to the senate, breaketh off his own speech, and yieldeth unto him his room, giving him leave to speak or to opine, and remaineth silent himself: by this his silence sheweth that he doth repute the other a better man and of more sufficiency for wisdom and knowledge than himself, much more than if he should pronounce and ring it out aloud to the whole audience.

And hereupon it is that this sort of people who make profession of flattery, take up ordinarily the first and highest seats, as well at sermons and public orations whither men flock to hear, as at the theatres and shew places, not that they think themselves worthy of such places, but because they may rise and make room for better and richer persons as they come, and thereby flatter them kindly. This we see also, that in solemn assemblies and great meetings or auditories they are by their good wills the first that put themselves forth and make offer to begin speech; but it is for nothing else but that afterward they would seem to quit the place and give assent to their betters, soon retracting their own opinions, when they hear a mighty man, a rich or noble personage in authority to contradict and say the contrary. And here we ought most of all to be circumspect and wary, that we may evict them of this, that all this courting, this giving place, this yielding of the victory and reverence made unto others, is not for any more sufficiency that they acknowledge in them, for their knowledge, experience and virtues; nor yet for their worthiness in regard of elder age, but only for their wealth, riches, credit, and reputation in the world.

Megabysus,[1] a great lord belonging to the king's court of Persia, came upon a time to visit Apelles the painter: and sitting by him in his shop to see him work, began of his own accord to discourse I wot not what, of lines, shadows and other matters belonging to his art: Apelles hearing him, could not hold, but said unto him; See you not, sir, these little prentice boys here that grind ochre and other colours? So long as you sate still and said never a word, they advised you well and their eye was never off, wondering to see your rich purple robes, your chains and jewels of gold, no sooner began you to speak but they fell to teighing, and now they laugh you to scorn, talking thus as you do of those things which you never learned. And Solon, being demanded once by Croesus, King of Lydia, what men he had seen whom he reputed most happy in this world? named unto him one Tellus, none of the great men of Athens, but a good plain and mean citizen, Cleobis also and Biton: and these he said were of all others most fortunate. But these flatterers will affirm that kings and princes, rich men and rulers, are not only blessed, happy, and fortunate; but also excel all others in wisdom, knowledge and virtue. There is not one of them that can endure so much as to hear the Stoics, who hold that the sage and wise man (such a one as they depaint unto us) ought all at once to be called rich, fair, noble, yea, and a king: whereas our flatterers will have the rich man only, whom they are disposed to flatter, to be an orator and a poet; yea, and if he will himself, a painter, a good piper, passing light of foot and strong of limbs; insomuch, as whosoever wrestleth with him shall be sure to take the foil and lie along; and whomsoever he runneth with in the race, he shall come behind him a fair deal, but how? Surely even as Crisson, the Himeræan, lagged for the nonce behind King Alexander the Great, when he ran with him for the best game: for which the king was highly displeased and wroth at him, when he once perceived it. Cameades was wont to say that the sons of kings and great rich men learned to do nothing well and right, but only to sit and ride an horse. For that their masters are wont to flatter and praise them in all their schools where they be taught: for if they be at the exercise of wrestling, you shall have him that wrestleth with them of purpose to take a fall and lie under them: Marry, the horse, not knowing nor having the reason to discern a private man's son from a prince; nor whether he be poor or rich that sits upon his back, will be sure to cast him over his head and lay him along, whosoever he be, that cannot skill how to hold and rule him. Bion, therefore, was but a very lob and fool in saying thus: If I wist that with praising a piece of ground I could make it good, rich and fertile, it should want for no praises; and rather would I commend it than toil and moil in digging, tilling, and doing work about it. And yet I will not say that a man is to blame and doth amiss in praising: if so be that those who are praised be the better and more fruitful in all good things for it. Howbeit, to come again into the ground before said; a field being praised never so much is not the worse nor less fertile therefore: but I assure you they that commend folk falsely, and beyond their desert and due, puff them full of wind and vanity, and work their overthrow in the end. But now, having discoursed sufficiently upon this article and point of praises, let us proceed forward to treat of frankness and liberty of speech.

And verily meet and reason it had been, that as Patroclus, when he put on the armour of Achilles and brought forth his horses of service to battle, durst not meddle with his spear Pelias, but left it only untouched; so a flatterer also, although he mask and disguise himself with other habits, ornaments and ensigns of a friend, should let this liberty only of speech alone, and not once go about to touch or counterfeit it, as being indeed

A baston of such poise and weight,
So big withal, so stiff and straight,

that of all others it belongeth only to friendship for to be carried and wielded by it. But forasmuch as our flatterers nowadays are afraid to be detected in laughing in their cups, in their jests, scoffs, and gamesome mirth; therefore to avoid such discovery, they have learned forsooth to knit and bend the brows, they can skill, iwis, to flatter, and yet look with a frowning face and crabbed countenance, they have the cast to temper with their glavering glozes some rough reprehensions and chiding checks among: let us not overpass this point untouched, but consider and examine the same likewise. For mine own part I am of this mind: That as in a comedy of Menander there comes in a counterfeit Hercules to play his part upon the stage with a club on his shoulder, that is (you may be sure) nothing massive, heavy, stiff and strong, but some device and gawd, hollow and empty within, made of brown paper or such-like stuff; Even so, that plain and free speech which a flatterer useth will be found light, soft, and without any strength at all to give a blow: much like (to say truly) unto the soft bed pillows that women lie on, which seeming full and plump to resist and bear out against their heads, yield and sink under the same so much the more: For after the same manner this counterfeit free speech of theirs puffed up full of wind, or else stuffed with some deceitful light matter, seemeth to rise up, to swell, and bear out hard and stiff, to the end that being pressed down once (and both sides as it were coming together) it might receive, enlap and enfold him that chanceth to fall thereupon, and so carry him away with it. Whereas the true and friendly liberty of speech indeed taketh hold of those that are delinquent and do offend, bringing with it a kind of pain for the time, which notwithstanding is wholesome and healthful: resembling herein the nature of honey, which being applied to a sore or ulcerous place, at the first doth smart and sting; but it doth cleanse and mundify withal, and otherwise is profitable, sweet, and pleasant.

But as touching this plain dealing and frank speech, I will write a part of purpose in place convenient. As for the flatterer, he maketh shew at the first, that he is rough, violent, and inexorable in all dealings with others: For over his servants he carrieth a hard hand, and is not pleased with their service, with his familiars, acquaintance and kinsfolk he is sharp and eager, ready to find fault with everything; he maketh no reckoning for account of any man but himself; he despiseth and disdaineth all the world besides; there is not a man living that he will pardon and forgive; he blameth and accuseth every one; and his whole study is to win the name and reputation of a man that ateth vice, and in that regard careth not whom he doth provoke, and whose displeasure he incur: as who for no good in the world would be hired to hold his tongue, nor willingly forbear to speak plainly the truth; who with his goodwill would never speak or do anything to soothe up and please another: Then will he make semblance as though he neither saw nor took knowledge of any great and gross sins indeed: but if peradventure there be some light and small outward faults, he will make foul ado thereat, he will keep a wondering and crying out upon them: then shall you have him in good earnest exclaim and reprove the delinquent with a loud and sounding voice: As, for example, if he chance to espy the implements or anything else about the house lie out of order; if a man be not well and neatly lodged; if his beard be not of the right cut, or his hair grow out of fashion; if a garment sit not handsomely about him, or if a horse or hound be not so carefully tended as they should be. But say that a man set nought by his parents, neglect his own children, misuse his wife, disdain and despise his kindred, spend and consume his goods; none of all these enormities touch and move him: Here he is mute and hath not a word to say; he dares not reprove these abuses: much like as if a master of the wrestling school, who suffereth a wrestler that is under his hand to be a drunkard and a whoremonger, should chide and rebuke him sharply about an oil cruse or curry-comb; or as if a grammarian should find fault with his scholar and chide him for his writing-tables or his pen, letting him go away clear with solecisms, incongruities and barbarisms, as if he heard them not.

Also I can liken a flatterer to him who will not blame an ill author, or ridiculous rhetorician in anything as touching his oration itself; but rather reproveth him for his utterance, and sharply taketh him up for that by drinking of cold water he hath hurt his wind-pipe, and so marred his voice; or to one who being bidden to read over and peruse a poor seely epigram or other writing that is nothing worth, taketh on and fareth against the paper wherein it is written, for being thick, coarse or rugged; or against the writer, for negligent, slovenly or impure otherwise. Thus the claw-backs and flatterers about King Ptolemaeus, who would seem to love good letters, and to be desirous of learning, used ordinarily to draw out their disputations and conferences at length, even to midnight, debating about some gloss or signification of a word, about a verse, or touching some history: but all the while there was not one among so many of them that would tell him of his cruelty, of his wrongs and oppressions, nor yet of his drumming,[2] tabouring, and other enormous indignities, under the colour of religion; and seek to reform him. Certes, a foolish fellow were he who, coming to a man diseased with tumours, swellings, impostumes, or hollow ulcers, called fistulae, should with a chirurgeon's lancet or barber's razor, fall to cut his hairs or pare his nails; even so it fareth with these flatterers, who apply their liberty of speech to such things as neither are in pain nor yet do any hurt.

Moreover, some others there be of them, who being more cunning and crafty than their fellows, use this plainness of language and reprehension of theirs for to please and make sport withal. Thus Agis the Argive, seeing how Alexander the Great gave very great rewards and gifts to a certain pleasant and odd fellow that was a jester, cried out for very envy and dolour of heart, great abuse and monstrous absurdity: The king hearing it, turned about unto him in great displeasure and indignation, demanding of him what he had to say? I confess (quoth he) indeed that I am grieved, and I think it a great indignity, when I see all you that are descended from Jupiter and his sons, to take pleasure in flatterers and jesters about you, for to make you merry. For even so Hercules took a delight to have in his company certain ridiculous Cercopes, and Bacchus had ever in his train the Silenes. In your court likewise, a man may see such to be in credit and highly esteemed.

When Tiberius Caesar, the emperor, upon a certain day was come into the senate house of Rome, one of the senators who knew how to flatter, arose and stood up, and with a good loud voice; Meet it is (quoth he), Caesar, that men free born should likewise have the liberty of speech, and speak their minds frankly, without dissimuling or concealing anything which they know to be good and profitable: with this speech of his he stirred up the attention of the whole house, so as they gave good ear unto him, and Tiberius himself listened what he would say. Now when all was still and in great silence; Hearken quoth he), Caesar, what it is that we all accuse and blame you or, but no man dare be so bold as to speak it out: You neglect yourself, and have no regard of your own person; you consume and spoil your body with continual cares and travels for our ake, taking no rest nor repose either day or night. Now when he had drawn out a long train of words to this purpose, Cassius Severus, a rhetorician, stood up, and by report said thus; Such liberty of speech as this will be the utter undoing of this man.

But these flatteries are of the lighter sort, and do less hurt: here be other more dangerous which work the mischief and corruption of those who are not wise, and take no heed unto them; namely, when flatterers set in hand to reprove them whom they flatter, for the contrary vices to those that be in them. Thus Himerius the flatterer reproached a certain rich man of Athens, the veriest pinching miser and the most covetous withal that was in the whole city, with the imputations of prodigality, and negligence about his own profit and gain; charging him that one day he would smart for it, and both he and his children be hunger-starved for want wherewith to sustain themselves, if he looked no better to his thrift: or when they object miserable niggardise and beggary unto those that are known to be prodigal spenders, and consume all. After which manner Titus Petronius reproved Nero.

Again, if they come to princes and great lords, who deal cruelly and hardly with their subjects and tenants, saying unto them, that they must lay away this overmuch lenity and foolish pity of theirs, which neither is seemly for their persons, nor yet profitable for their state. And very like to these is he who maketh semblance to him who is a very senseless sot and foolish fool, that he stands in great fear and doubt of him, lest he should be circumvented by him, as if he were some cautelous, crafty and cunning person. He also that doth rebuke another, who is an ordinary slanderer, who taketh pleasure (upon spite and envy) to be ever railing on all men, and backbiting them, if he chance any one time to break out into the praise of some worthy and excellent personage, saying in this manner unto him; This is a great fault that you have, and a disease that followeth you, thus to praise men of no worth: What is he (I pray you) whom you thus commend? what good parts be in him? hath he at any time done any doughty deed, or delivered any singular speech that might deserve such praises?

But in amatorious and love matters they pass: there you shall have them most of all to come over those whom they flatter and lay on load; to them they will join close, and set them on a flaming fire. For if they see brethren at some variance, or setting nought by their parents, or else to deal unkindly with their own wives, and to set no store by them, or to be jealous and suspicious of them; they never admonish, chastise or rebuke them for it, that they may amend, but rather they will kindle more coals between, and encrease their anger and discontentment on both sides: Nay, it is no great matter (will they say), it is even well enough; you will never see and know who you are; you are the cause of all this your own self; and self do, self have; you evermore have borne yourselves so pliable, submiss and lowly toward them, but you are but rightly served. But say there be some itching heat of love, or smart anger upon jealousy, in regard of a courtesan or married wife, whom the party is amorous of; then shall you see a flatterer ready at hand to display his cunning openly, and to speak his mind freely unto him, putting fire to fire and feeding his love; you shall have him to lay the law upon this lover, accusing and entering process against him in these terms: You have broken the laws of love; you have done and said many things not so kindly as beseemed a true lover, but rather dealt hardly with your love, and enough to lose her heart, and incur her hatred for ever:

Unthankful person that thou art,
For kisses so many of thy sweetheart.

Thus the flattering friends of Antonius, when he burned in love of the Egyptian queen Cleopatra, would persuade and make him believe that she it was who was enamoured upon him, and by way of opprobrious imputation they would tell him to his face that he was proud, disdainful, hard-hearted, and void of all kind affection. This noble queen (would they say) forsaking so mighty and wealthy a kingdom, so many pleasant palaces, and stately houses of blessed abode, such means and opportunities of happiness, for the love of you pineth away, and consumeth herself, trudging after your camp to and fro, for to do your honour content and pleasure with the habit and title of your concubine.

Whiles you in breast do carry an heart
Which will not be wrought by any art,

neglecting her (good lady) and suffering her to perish for sorrow and heart's grief. Whereupon he being well enough pleased to hear himself thus charged with wrong-doing to her, and taking more pleasure in these accusations of theirs than if they had directly praised him, was so blind that he could not see how they that seemed thus to admonish him of his duty, perverted and corrupted him thereby so much the more. For this counterfeit liberty of plain dealing and plain speech may be very well likened to the wanton pinches and bitings of luxurious women who tickle and stir up the lust and pleasure of men by that which might seem to cause their pain. For like as pure wine, which otherwise of itself is a sure remedy against the poison of lemlock, if a man do mingle it with the juice of the said hemlock, doth mightily enforce the poison thereof, and make it irremediable, for that by means of the heat it conveyeth the same more speedily unto the heart; even so these lewd and mischievous flatterers, knowing full well that frank speech is a singular help and remedy against flattery, abuse it to flatter withal. And therefore it seemeth that Bias answered not so well as he might have done, to one that asked of him, which was the shrewdest and most hurtful beast of all other: If (quoth he) your question be of wild and savage, a tyrant is worse; if of tame and gentle, a flatterer. For he might have said more truly; that of flatterers some be of a tame kind, such (I mean) as these parasites are who haunt the bains and stouphs; those also that follow good cheer and keep about the table. As for him who (like as the pourcuttle fish stretcheth out his claws like branches) reacheth as far as to the secret chambers and cabinets of women, with his busy intermeddling, with his calumniations and malicious demeanours, such a one is savage, fell, intractable, and dangerous to be approached.

Now one of the means to beware of this flattery is to know and remember always that our soul consisteth of two parts, whereof the one is addicted to the truth, loving honesty and reason; the other more brutish, of the own nature unreasonable, given to untruth and withal passionate. A true friend assisteth evermore the better part, in giving counsel and comfort, even as an expert and skilful physician, who hath an eye that aimeth always at the maintenance and increase of health: but the flatterer doth apply himself, and settleth to that part which is void of reason and full of passions: this he scratcheth, this he tickleth continually, this he stroketh and handleth in such sort, by devising some vicious and dishonest pleasures, that he withdraweth and turneth it away quite from the rule and guidance of reason. Moreover, as there be some kind of viands, which if a man eat they neither turn unto blood nor engender spirits, nor yet add vigour and strength to the nerves and the marrow; but all the good they do is haply to cause the flesh or genital parts to rise, to stir and loose the belly, or to breed some foggy, phantom and half-rotten flesh, which is neither fast nor sound within; even so, if a man look nearly and have good regard unto a flatterer, he shall never find that all the words he useth, minister or procure one jot of good to him that is wise and governed by reason; but feed fools with the pleasant delights of love; kindle and augment the fire of inconsiderate anger; provoke them unto envy; breed in them an odious and vain presumption of their own wit; increase their sorrow and grief, with moaning them and lamenting with them for company; set on work and exasperate their inbred naughtiness and lewd disposition; their illiberal mind and covetous nature; their diffidence and distrustfulness of others; their base and servile timidity, making them always worse, and apt to conceive ill; more fearful, jealous and suspicious, by the means of some new accusations, false surmises and conjectural suggestions, which they be ready to put into their heads. For evermore it getteth closely into some vicious passion and affection of the mind, and there lurketh; the same it nourisheth and feedeth fat, but anon it appeareth like a botch, rising eftsoons upon the corrupt, diseased or inflamed parts of the soul. Art thou angry with one? punish him (saith he): Hast thou a mind to a thing? buy it, and make no more ado: Art thou never so little afraid? let us fly and be gone: Suspectest thou this or that? believe it confidently (saith he).

But if peradventure, be can hardly be seen and discovered about these passions, for that they be so mighty and violent that oftentimes they chase and expel all use of reason, he will give some vantage to be sooner taken in others that be not so strong and vehement, where we shall find him always the same and like himself. For say a man do suspect that he hath taken a surfeit, either by over-liberal feeding or drinking heady wine, and upon that occasion make some doubt to bathe his body, or to eat presently again and lay gorge upon gorge (as they say): A true friend will advise him to forbear and abstain; he will admonish him to take heed to himself and look to his health: In comes a flatterer, and he will draw him to the bain in all haste; he will bid him to call for some novelty or other to be set upon the board, willing him to fall fresh to it again, and not to punish his body and do himself injury by fasting and refusing his meat and drink: Also if he see him not disposed to take a journey by land or voyage by sea, or to go about any enterprise, whatsoever it be, slowly and with an ill will, he will say unto him; either that there is no such great need, or the time is not so convenient, but it may be put off to a farther day, or it will serve the turn well enough to send others about it.

Now if it fall out so, that he having made promise to some familiar friend either to lend or let him have the use of some money, or to give him it freely, do change his mind and repent of his promise; but yet be somewhat abashed and ashamed thus to break his word; the flatterer by and by will put himself to the worse and lighter end of the balance, and make it weigh downe on the purse side, soon excluding and cutting off all shame for the matter: What, man! (will he say), spare your purse and save your silver; you are at a great charge; you keep a great house, and have many about you which must be maintained and have sufficient; in such sort, that if we be not altogether ignorant of ourselves, and wilfully blind, not seeing that we be covetous, shameless, timorous and base-minded, we cannot choose but start and find out a flatterer; neither is it possible that he should escape us. For surely he will evermore defend and maintain these imperfections, and frankly will he speak his mind in favour thereof, if he perceive us to over-pass ourselves therein. But thus much may suffice as touching these matters.

Let us come now to the uses and services that a flatterer is employed in: For in such offices he doth confound, trouble, and darken much the difference between him and a true friend; shewing himself in appearance always diligent, ready and prompt in all occurrences, without seeking any colourable pretences of shifting off, and a refusing to do anything. As for a faithful friend, his whole carriage and behaviour is simple, like as be the words of truth, as saith Euripides, without welts and guards, plain without plaits, and nothing counterfeit: whereas the conditions of a flatterer, to say a truth,

By nature are diseased much,
And medicines needful are for such,

not only with wisdom to be ministered and applied, but also many in number, and those (I assure you) of a more exquisite making and composition than any other. And verily as friends many times when they meet one another in the street, pass by without good-morrow or god-speed, or any word at all between them; only by some lightsome look, cheerful smile, or amiable regard of the eye reciprocally given and taken, without any other token else, there is testified the goodwill and mutual affection of the heart within: whereas the flatterer runneth toward his friend to meet him, followeth apace at his heels, spreadeth forth both his arms abroad, and that afar off, to embrace him: and if it chance that he be saluted and spoken to first, because the other had an eye on him before, he will with brave words excuse himself, yea, and many times call for witnesses, and bind it with great oaths good store, that he saw him not.

Even so likewise in their affairs and negotiations abroad in the world, friends omit and overslip many small and light things, not searching narrowly into matters, not offering or expecting again any exquisite service; nothing curious and busy in each thing, nor yet putting themselves forward to every kind of ministry: but the flatterer is herein double diligent, he will be continually employed and never rest, without seeming at any time to be weary, no place, no space nor opportunity will he give the other to do any service; he looketh to be called unto and commanded; and if he be not bidden, he will take it ill and be displeased; nay, you shall have him then out of heart and discouraged, complaining of his ill fortune, and protesting before God and man, as if he had some great wrong done unto him. These be evident marks and undoubted arguments to such as have wit and understanding, not of a friendship sound, sober and honest, but rather smelling of wanton and whorish love, which is more ready to embrace and clip than is decent and seemly. Howbeit, to examine the same more particularly, let us consider what difference there is between a flatterer and a friend, as touching the offers and promises that they make. They who have written of this theme before us, say very well that a friend's promise goeth in this form:

If that I can, or if it may be done.
Fulfil I will your mind, and that right soon.

But the offer of a flatterer runneth in this manner:

What would you have? say but the word to me.
Without all doubt effected it shall be.

For such frank promisers and braggers as these the poets also use to bring unto the stage in their comedies, after this sort:

Now of all loves, Nicomachus, this I crave.
Set me against this soldier here so brave,
I will so swinge his coat, you shall it see.
That like a pompion his flesh shall tender be:
His face, his head I shall much softer make.
Than is the spunge that grows in sea or lake.

Moreover, you shall not see a friend offer his helping hand or aid in any action, unless he were called before to counsel, and his opinion asked of the enterprise, or that he have approved and set down the same upon good advisement, to be either honest or profitable: whereas the flatterer, if a man should do him so much credit, as to require his consent and approbation, or otherwise request him to deliver his opinion of the thing, he, not only upon a desire to yield unto others and to gratify them, but also for fear to give any suspicion that he would seem to draw back and avoid to set his hand to any work or business whatsoever, is ready with the foremost to apply himself to the appetite and inclination of another, yea and withal, pricketh and inciteth him forward to enter upon it. And yet lightly you shall find even of rich men and kings but few or none who can or will come forth with these words:

Would God some one that needy is and poor,
Yea, worse than he that begs from door to door.
Would come to me (so that he were my friend)
Without all fear, and speak to me his mind.

But nowadays it is far otherwise; for they are much like unto composers of tragedies, who will be provided of a quire or dance of their friends to sing with them, or desire to have a theatre of purpose to give applause and clap their hands unto them. And verily, whereas Merope in a certain tragedy giveth these sage and wise advertisements:

Take those for friends, I rede, and hold them so,
Whose speech is sound, and waves not to and fro;
But those that please thy mind in word and deed,
Count lewd, and such lock forth of door with speed:

our potentates and grand seigneurs do clean contrary; for such as will not follow their humours, and soothe them up at every word, but gainsay their courses, in making remonstrance of that which is more profitable and expedient; such they disdain and will not vouchsafe them a good look. But for those wicked wretches, base-minded varlets, and cozening impostors, who can curry favour, they not only set their doors wide open for such, and receive them into their houses, but they admit them also to conferences with their inward affections and the very secrets of their heart. Among whom you shall have one more plain perhaps and simple than the rest, who will say that it is not for him, neither is he worthy to deliberate and consult of so great affairs; marry, he could be content, and would take upon him, to be a poor servitor and minister, to execute whatsoever were concluded and enjoined him to do: another more crafty and cunning than his fellows, is willing enough to be used in counsel, where he will hear all doubts and perils that be cast; his eyebrows shall speak if they will, his head and eyes shall nod and make signs, but his tongue shall not speak a word: Say that the party whom he mindeth to flatter do utter his mind and what he thinketh good to do: then will he cry out aloud and say, By Hercules, I swear it was at my tongue's end to have said as much, had you not prevented me and taken the word out of my mouth, I would have given you the very same counsel. For like as the mathematicians do affirm that the superficial and outward extremities, the lines also of the mathematical bodies, do of themselves and in their own nature neither bend nor stretch, nor yet move at all: for that they be intellectual only or imaginary, and not corporal, but according as the bodies do bow, reach or stir, so do they; so you shall ever find that a flatterer will pronounce, opine, think and be moved to anger, according as he seeth another before him.

And therefore in this kind, most easy it is to observe the difference between a flatterer and a friend. But yet more evident you shall see it in the manner of doing service. For the offices and kindnesses which come from a friend are ever best, and (as living creatures) have their most proper virtues inwardly, carrying least in shew, and having no outward ostentation of glorious pomp. And as it falleth out many times a physician cureth his patient, and sayeth little or nothing at all unto him, but doth the deed ere he be aware; even so, a good friend, whether he be present or departed from his friend, doth him good still, and taketh care for him when he full little knoweth of it. Such a one was Arcesilaus the philosopher, who beside many other kind parts which he shewed unto his friend Apelles, the painter of Chios, coming one day to visit him when he was sick, and perceiving how poor he was, went his way for that time: and when he returned again, brought twenty good drachms with him: and then, sitting close unto Apelles by his bedside: Here is nothing here (quoth he) I see well, but these four bare elements that Empedocles writeth of:

Hot fire, cold water, sheer and soft:
Gross earth, pure air that spreads aloft.

But methinks you lie not at your ease; and with that he removed the pillow or bolster under his head, and so conveyed underneath it privily the small pieces of coin aforesaid. The old woman his nurse and keeper, when she made the bed, found this money: whereat she marvelled not a little, and told Apelles thereof, who laughing thereat: This is (quoth he) one of Arcesilaus his thievish casts. And for that it is a maxim in philosophy, that children are born like their parents, one Lacydes, a scholar of Arcesilaus aforesaid, being assistant with many others to a friend of his named Cephisocrates, when he came to his trial in a case of treason against the state: in pleading of which cause, the accuser his adversary called for Cephisocrates his ring, a pregnant evidence that made against him, which he had cleanly slipped from his finger and let it fall to the ground; whereof the said Lacydes being advised, set his foot presently over it, and so kept it out of sight: for that the main proof of the matter in question lay upon that ring. Now after sentence passed on Cephisocrates his side, and that he was cleanly acquit of the crime, he went privately to every one of the judges for to give them thanks: One of them who (as it should seem) had seen what was done, willed him to thank Lacydes: and with that told how the case stood, and how it went with him as it did: but all this while Lacydes himself had not said a word to any creature. Thus I think verily that the gods themselves do bestow many benefits and favours upon men secretly, and whereof they be not aware; being of this nature to take joy and pleasure in bountifulness and doing good.

Contrariwise, the office that a flatterer seemeth to perform, hath nothing in it that is just, nothing true, nothing simple, nothing liberal: only you shall see him sweat at it; you shall have him run up and down; keep a loud crying and a great ado, and set his countenance upon the matter, so as that he maketh right good semblance and shew that he doth especial service, taketh much care and pains about his business, and maketh haste to dispatch it: and much like are all his doings to a curious picture, which with strange colours, with broken plaits, wrinkles and angles, affecteth and striveth (as it were) to shew some lively resemblance. Moreover, much ado he maketh, and is troublesome in telling how he went to and fro, wandering here and there about the matter; also what a deal of care he took therein; how he incurred the evil will and displeasure of others; and a thousand hindrances, troubles and dangers, as besides he reckoneth up; insomuch as a man that heareth would say; All that ever he did was not worth so much as the twittle-twattle that he maketh. For surely a good turn that is upbraided in that wise, becometh burdensome, odious, and not thankfully accepted, but intolerable.

In all the offices and services of a flatterer you shall find these upbraidings and shameful reports, that would make one blush to hear them, and those not only after the deed done, but at the very instant when he is about it. But instead hereof, a true friend, if it fall out so, that he be forced and urged to relate what is done, maketh a plain report and narration in modest manner; but of himself he will never say word. After which sort did the Lacedaemonians in times past, when they had sent corn unto the Smyrnaeans, which, in their extreme necessity, they craved at their hands: For at what time as the men of Smyrna magnified, and wonderfully extolled this liberality of theirs, they returned this answer again: This is not so great a matter that it should deserve so highly to be praised or wondered at: for (say they) gathered we have thus much, and made this supply of your necessities, only by cutting ourselves and our labouring beasts short of one day's pittance and allowance. Bounty in this wise performed is not only gentleman-like and liberal indeed, but also more welcome and acceptable to the receivers; inasmuch as they think it was no great damage, nor much out of their way that did it. Furthermore, not only this odious fashion of doing any service with such pain and trouble, or the readiness to make offer and promise so quickly, doth principally bewray the nature of a flatterer: but herein also much more he may be discovered: for that a friend is willingly employed in honest causes: but a flatterer in shameful and dishonest: as also in the divers ends that they purpose; for the one seeketh to profit his friend, the other to please only. A friend, as Gorgias was wont to say, will never require that his friend should do him a pleasure, but in just things only: whiles a flatterer serve th his turn in many things that are unjust: For why?

To do good deeds friends should be joint.
But not to sin in any point;

whereas he should endeavour to avert and withdraw him from that which is not decent, or seemly: Now if it happen that the other will not be persuaded by him, then were it not amiss to say unto him, as Antipater once answered Phocion; You cannot have me to be a friend and flatterer too, (that is to say) a friend, and no friend. For one friend is to stand to another, and to assist him in doing, and not in misdoing, in consulting, and not in complotting and conspiring, in bearing witness with him of the truth, and not in circumventing any one by falsehood, yea, and to take part with him in suffering calamity, and not to bear him company in doing injury: For say that we may chance to be privy unto some shameful and reproachful deeds of our friend; yet we ought not to be party unto them therein, nor willing to aid them in any undecent action. For like as the Lacedaemonians being defeated in battle by King Antipater, and treating with him about the capitulations and articles of peace, made request unto him that he would impose upon them what conditions he would himself, were they never so chargeable and disadvantageous unto them, but in no wise enjoin them to do any shameful indignity; even so a faithful friend ought to be so disposed, that if his friend's occasions do require any matter of expense, danger, or travail, he shew himself at the first call and holding up of his finger ready to come, and cheerfully to take his part and undergo the same, without any shifting off, or allegation of any excuse whatsoever: marry, if there be never so little shame or dishonour that may accrue thereby, he shall then refuse and pray him to hold him excused; he shall request pardon and desire to have leave for to be dismissed and depart in peace.

The flatterer is quite contrary: for in painful, difficult and dangerous affairs, which require his help and assistance, he draweth back, and is ready to pluck his neck out of the collar: if (I say) in this case you seem for trial sake to knock (as it were upon a pot) to see whether he be right, he will not ring clear; but you shall see by the dead sound of his pretended and forged excuses, that he is full of cracks and flaws: contrariwise, in dishonest, vile, base, and shameful ministeries, I am for you (will he say), I am yours to command; do with me what you will, tread me under your foot, abuse me at your pleasure: to be short, he will think nothing to be an ignominious indignity unto him. See you not the ape? good he is not to keep the house and to give warning of thieves, as dogs do; carry upon his back any burdens he cannot, like the horse; neither yet is he fit to draw or to plough the ground, as the ox doth; and therefore he beareth all kind of abuse and misusing, all wrongs, all unhappy sports and tricks that can be devised, serving only as an instrument of mockery, and a mere laughing-stock. Even so it fareth with a flatterer, being not meet to plead at the bar for a friend, to assist him in counsel, to lay his hand to his purse and supply his wants that way, nor to fight as his champion in maintenance of his quarrel, as one that can away with no labour, no painstaking, or serious employment; and in one word, fit for nothing that good is: marry, in such affairs as may be done under the arm, that is to say, which be close, secret and filthy services, he is the forwardest man in the world, and maketh no excuses. A trusty courier he is between, in love matters; in finding favour with a bawd and bringing a wench or harlot to your bed, he is excellent, and hath a marvellous gift; to make the shot, and clear the reckoning of any sumptuous feast or banquet he is ready and perfect; in providing for a great dinner or supper, and setting the same forth accordingly, he is nothing slow, but nimble enough. To give entertainment unto concubines he is very handsome, obsequious and serviceable; if one bid him to speak audaciously and malapertly against a father-in-law, a guardian, tutor, or any such, or to put away his true espoused wife, like as he seeth his good master do before him, he is without all shame and mercy: so that even herein also it is no hard matter to see what kind of man he is, and how much he differeth from a true friend: For command him to commit what villany and wickedness you will, ready he is to execute the same, and so he may gratify and pleasure you that set him on work, he careth not to do any injury to himself.

There is, moreover, another means not of the least consequence, whereby a man may know how much a flatterer differeth from a friend indeed, namely, by his disposition and behaviour towards his other friends: for a true friend findeth contentment in nothing so much as to love many, and likewise to be loved of many; and herein he laboureth especially with his friend to procure himself many others to love and honour him: for being of this opinion, that among good friends all things are common, he thinketh that nothing ought to be more common than friends themselves. But the supposed, false, and counterfeit friend, being privy to his own conscience, that he doth great injury to true amity and friendship, which he doth corrupt in manner of a base piece of money: as he is by nature envious, so he exerciseth that envy of his upon such as be like himself, striving with a kind of emulation to surpass them in scurrile speech, giving of taunts and garrulity, but before such as he knoweth better than himself, he trembleth and is afraid, and in truth dare not come near nor shew his face to such an one, no more (I assure you) than a footman to go and keep pace (according to the proverb) with a Lydian chariot, or rather, as Simonides saith,

Laid to fine gold tried clean from dross,
He hath not so much as lead so gross.

Being compared with true, sound, and grave friendship, which (as they say) will endure the hammer, he cannot choose but find himself to be but light, falsified, and deceitful: seeing then that he must needs be detected and known for such an one as he is, what doth he, think you? Surely he playeth like an unskilful painter, who had painted certain cocks, but very badly: For like as he gave commandment to his boy for to keep away natural and living cocks, indeed, far enough off from his pictures; so a flatterer will do what he can to chase away true friends, and not suffer them to approach near; or if he be not able so to do, then openly and in public place he will seem to curry favour with them, to honour and admire them, as far better than himself; but secretly, underhand, and behind their backs, he will not let to raise some privy calumniations, and sow slanderous reports tending to their discredit: but if he see that by such privy girds and pinches which will fret and gall the sore, he cannot at the first bring his purpose about: yet he remembreth full well and observeth the saying of Medius.

This Medius was the chief captain of the troupe, or the master rather of the quire (if I may so say) of all those flatterers that used the court of King Alexander the Great, and came about his person; the principal sophister also that opposed himself and banded against all good men, and never rested to slander and backbite them: This rule and lesson he taught his scholars and quiristers that were under his hand. To cast out slanders boldly, and not to spare, therewith to bite others: For (quoth he) although the sore may heal up again, yet the scar will remain and be ever seen. By these cicatrices and scars of false imputations, or (to speaic more properly and truly) by such gangrenes and cankerous ulcers as these, Alexander the king being corroded and eaten, did to death Callisthenes, Parmenion, and Philotas, his fast and faithful friends: but to such as Agnon, Bagoas, Agesias and Demetrius were, he abandoned and gave himself wholly to be supplanted and overthrown at their pleasure, whiles he was by them adored, adorned, arrayed gorgeously with rich robes, and set out like a barbarian image, statue or idol. Lo, what is the force and power of flattery to win grace and favour; and namely in those who would be reputed the mightiest monarches and greatest potentates of the world, it beareth most sway: For such are persuaded, and desirous also, that the best things should be in themselves; and this is it that giveth both credit and also boldness unto a flatterer. True it is, I must confess, that the highest places and forts situate upon the loftiest mounts, are least accessible and most hard to be gained by those who would surprise and force them; but where there is an high spirit and haughty mind by nature, not guided by sound judgment of reason, but lifted up with the favours of fortune, or nobility of birth, it is the easiest matter in the world even for most base and vile persons to conquer such, and the avenues to them lie ready and open, to give the vantage of easiest entrance.

And therefore, as in the beginning of this treatise I gave warning; so now I admonish the readers again in this place; That every man would labour and strive with himself to root out that self-love and overweening that they have of their own good parts and worthiness: For this is it that doth flatter us within, and possesseth our minds beforehand, whereby we are exposed and lie more open unto flatterers that are without, finding us thus prepared already for to work upon. But if we would obey the god Apollo, and by acknowledging how much in all things we ought to esteem that oracle of his, which commandeth us to know ourselves, search into our own nature, and examine withal our nouriture and education: when we find there an infinite number of defects, and many vanities, imperfections and faults, mixed untowardly in our words, deeds, thoughts and passions, we would not so easily suffer these flatterers to tread us under their feet, and make a bridge of us as they do at their pleasure.

King Alexander the Great was wont to say, that two things there were especially which moved him to have less belief in them who saluted and greeted him by the name of a god: The one was sleep, and the other the use of Venus: in both which he found that he was worse than himself, that is to say, subject to infirmities and passions more than in anything else: But if we would look into ourselves and ever and anon consider how many gross vices, troublesome passions, imperfections and defects we have, surely we shall find that we stood in great need, not of a false friend to flatter us in our follies, and to praise and extol us; but rather of one that would frankly find fault with our doings, and reprove us in those vices that each one privately and in particular doth commit. But very few there be among many others, who dare freely and plainly speak unto their friends, but rather soothe them up and seek to please them in everything: And even in those, as few as they be, hardly shall you find any that know how to do it well, but for the most part they think that they speak freely, when they do nothing but reprove, reproach and rail.

Howbeit, this liberty of speech whereof I speak is of the nature of a medicine, which if it be not given in time convenient and as it ought to be, besides that it doth no good at all, it troubleth the body, worketh grievance, and instead of a remedy proveth to be a mischief: For even so, he that doth reprehend and find fault unseasonably, bringeth forth the like effect with pain as a flatterer doth with pleasure. For men are apt to receive hurt and damage, not only by overmuch praise; but also by inordinate blame when it is out of due time: for it is the only thing that of all others maketh them soonest to turn aside unto flatterers, and to be most easily surprised by them; namely, when from those things that stand most opposite and highest against them, they turn aside like water, and run down those ways that be more low, easy, and hollow. In which regard it behoveth that this liberty in fault-finding be tempered with a certain amiable affection, and accompanied with the judgment of reason, which may take away the excessive vehemency and force of sharp words, like the over-bright shining of some glittering light, and for fear lest their friends being dazzled as it were and frighted with the flashing beams of their rebukes, seeing themselves so reproved for each thing, and blamed every while, may take such a grief and thought thereupon, that for sorrow they be ready to fly unto the shadow of some flatterer, and turn toward that which will not trouble them at all. For we must avoid all vice (O Philopappus), and seek to correct the same by the means of virtue (and not by another vice contrary unto it) as some do; who for to shun foolish and rustical bashfulness, grow to be overbold and impudent; for to eschew rude incivility, fall to be ridiculous jesters and pleasants; and then they think to be farthest off from cowardice and effeminate tenderness, when they come nearest to extreme audacity and boasting bravery. Others there be who to prove themselves not to be superstitious, become mere atheists; and because they would not be thought and reputed idiots and fools, prove artificial coney-catchers. And surely in redressing the enormities of their manners, they do as much as those who, for want of knowledge and skill to set a piece of wood straight that twineth and lieth crooked one way, do curb and bend it as much another way.

But the most shameful means to avoid and shun the suspicion of a flatterer, is to make a man's self odious and troublesome without profit; and a very rude and rustical fashion this is, of seeking to win favour, and that with savour of no learning, skill, and civility, to become unpleasant, harsh, and sour to a friend, for to shun that other extreme, which in friendship seemeth to be base and servile; which is as much as if a freed slave newly franchised should in a comedy think that he could not use and enjoy his liberty of speech, unless he might be allowed licentiously to accuse another without controlment. Considering, then, that it is a foul thing to fall to flattery, in studying to please, as also for the avoiding of flattery, by immoderate liberty of speech, to corrupt and mar, as well the grace of amity and winning love, as the care of remedying and reforming that which is amiss: and seeing that we ought to avoid both the one and the other: and as in all things else, so free speaking is to have the perfection from a mean and mediocrity; reason would, and by order it were requisite, that toward the end of this treatise we should add somewhat in manner of a corollary and complement, as touching that point.

Forasmuch as therefore we see that this liberty of language and reprehension hath many vices following it, which do much hurt: let us assay to take them away one after another, and begin first with blind self-love and private regards: where we ought especially to take heed that we be not seen to do anything for our own interest, and in respect of ourselves; and namely, that we seem not, for wrong that we have received ourselves, or upon any grief of our own, to reproach, upbraid, or revile other men: for they will never take it as done for any love or goodwill that we bear unto them, but rather upon some discontentment and heart-burning that we have, when they see that our speech tendeth unto a matter wherein we are interested ourselves; neither will they repute our words spoken by way of admonition unto them, but rather interpret them as a complaint of them. For surely the liberty of speech whereof we treat, as it respecteth the welfare of our friend, so it is grave and venerable; whereas complaints favour rather of self-love and a base mind. Hereupon it is that we reverence, honour, and admire those who for our good deliver their minds frankly unto us: contrariwise, we are so bold as to accuse, challenge and charge reciprocally, yea, and contemn those that make complaints of us. Thus we read in Homer, that Agamemnon, who could not bear and endure Achilles, when he seemed to tell him his mind after a moderate manner; but he was well enough content to abide and suffer Ulysses, who touched him near, and bitterly rebuked him in this wise:

Ah wretch, would God some abject host
Beside us, by your hand
Conducted were; so that in field
You did not us command.

As sharp a check as this was, yet being delivered by a wise man, proceeding from a careful mind, and tendering the good of the commonweal, he gave place thereto, and kicked not again: for this Ulysses had no private matter nor particular quarrel against him, but spake frankly for the benefit of all Greece: whereas Achilles seemed to be offended and displeased with him principally, for some private matter between them twain. And even Achilles also himself, although he was never known for to be a man of a gentle nature and of a mild spirit,

But rather of a stomach fell,
And one who would accuse
A guiltless person for no cause,
And him full soon abuse,

endured Patroclus patiently, and gave him not a word again, notwithstanding he taunted and took him up in this wise:

Thou merciless and cruel wretch,
Sir Peleus, valiant knight
Was never (sure) thy father true.
Nor yet dame Thetis bright
Thy mother kind: but sea so green.
Or rocks so steep and hard
Thee bare (thy heart of pity hath
So small or no regard).

For like as Hyperides the orator required the Athenians (who complained that his orations were bitter) to consider of him, not only whether he were sharp and eager simply, but whether he were so upon no cause, nor taking any fee; even so, the admonition and reprehension of a friend, being sincere and cleansed pure from all private affection, ought to be reverenced: it carrieth (I say) authority with it, and no exceptions can well be taken, nor a man dare lift up an eye against it: in such sort, as if it appear that he who chideth freely, and blameth his friend, doth let pass and reject all those faults which he hath committed against him, and maketh no mention thereof, but toucheth those errors and misdemeanors only which concern others, and then spare him not, but pierce and bite to the quick: the vehemency of such free speech is invincible, and cannot be challenged, for the mildness and goodwill of the chastiser doth fortify the austerity and bitterness of the chastisement. Well therefore it was said in old time; That whensoever we are angry, or at some jar and variance with our friends, then most of all we ought to have an eye unto their good, and to study how to do somewhat that is either profitable unto them, or honourable for them.

And no less material is this also to the maintenance of friendship, if they that think themselves to be despised and not well regarded of their friends, do put them in mind, and tell them frankly of others, who are neglected by them, and not accounted of as they should be. Thus dealt Plato with Denys, at what time he was in disgrace, and saw how he made no reckoning at all of him: For he came unto the tyrant upon a time, and requested that he might have a day of audience and leave to confer with him: Denys granted his request, supposing verily that Plato had a purpose to complain and expostulate with him in his own behalf, and thereupon to discourse with him at large: But Plato reasoned and debated the matter with him in this manner: Sir (quoth he), O Denys, if you were advertised and knew that some enemy or evil willer of yours were arrived and landed in Sicily, with a full intention to do you some displeasure, although he had no opportunity or means to execute and effect the same, would you let him sail away again and depart from Sicily with impunity, and before he were talked withal? I trow not, Plato (quoth Denys), but I would look to him well enough for that: For we ought to hate and punish not the actions only, but the very purposes and intentions also of enemies. But how and if (quoth Plato again) on the contrary side; some other being expressly and of purpose come for mere love and affection that he beareth unto you, and fully minded to do you some pleasure, or to advise you for your good, you will give him neither time nor opportunity therefore; is it meet (think you) that he should be thus unthankfully dealt withal, or hardly entreated at your hands.? With that Dionysius was somewhat moved, and demanded who that might be? Æschines (quoth Plato) is he, a man fair conditioned, and of as honest carriage and behaviour as any one that ever came out of Socrates' school, or daily and familiarly conversed with him; sufficient and able by his eloquence and pithy speech to reform the manners of those with whom he keepeth company: This Æschines (I say) having taken a long voyage over sea and arrived here, intending for to confer with you philosophically, is nothing regarded, nor set by at all. These words touched Denys so to the very quick, that presently he not only took Plato in his arms, embracing him most lovingly, and yielding him great thanks for that kindness, and highly admiring his magnanimity; but also from that time forward, entreated Æschines right courteously, and did him all the honour that he could.

Secondly, this liberty of speech which now is in hand, we ought to clear and purge clean from all contumelious and injurious words, from laughter, scoffs, and scurrile taunts, which are the hurtful and unwholesome sauces (as I may say) wherewith many use to season their free language. For like as a chirurgeon, when he maketh incision and cutteth the flesh of his patient, had need to use great dexterity, to have a nimble hand and an even; yea, and everything neat and fine belonging to this work and operation of his: as for all dancing, gesticulations besides of his fingers, toyish motions, and superfluous agitation thereof, to shew the agility of his hand, he is to forbear for that time: So this liberty of speech unto a friend doth admit well a certain kind of elegancy and civility, provided always that the grace thereof retain still a decent and comely gravity, whereas if it chance to have audacious bravery, saucy impurity and insolency, to the hurt or hindrance of credit, it is utterly marred and looseth all authority.

And therefore it was not an unproper and unelegant speech, wherewith a musician upon a time stopped King Philip's mouth that he had not a word to say again: For when he was about to have disputed and contested against the said minstrel, as touching good fingering, and the sound of the several strings of his instrument: Oh, sir (quoth he), God forbid that ever you should fall to so low an estate as to be more cunning in these matters than I. But contrariwise, Epicharmus spake not so aptly and to the purpose in this behalf: For when King Hiero, who a little before had put to death some of his familiar acquaintance, invited him not many days after to supper. Yea, marry, sir, but the other day when you sacrificed, you bade not your friends to the feast. And as badly answered Antiphon, who upon a time when there was some question before Denys the Tyrant, what was the best kind of brass: Marry, that (quoth he) whereof the Athenians made the statues of Harmodius and Aristogiton. Such speeches as these are tart and biting, and no good can come thereof, neither hath that scurrility and scoffing manner any delight, but a kind of intemperance it is of the tongue, mingled with a certain maliciousness of mind, implying a will to do hurt and injury, and shewing plain enmity, which as many as use, work their own mischief and destruction, dancing (as the proverb saith) a dance untowardly about a pit's brink, or jesting with edged tools. For surely it cost Antiphon his life, who was put to death by the said Denys. And Timagenes lost for ever the favour and friendship of Augustus Caesar, not for any frank speech and broad language that ever he used against him; but only because he had taken up a foolish fashion at every feast or banquet, whereunto the emperor invited him, and whensoever he walked with him, eftsoons and to no purpose he would come out with these verses in Homer:

For naught else but to make some sport
Among the Greeks he did resort;

pretending that the cause of that favour which he had with the emperor, was the grace and gift that he had in flouting and reviling others: and even the very comical poets in old time, exhibited and represented to the theatres many grave, austere, and serious remonstrances, and those pertaining to policy and government of state: but there be scurrile speeches intermingled among, for to move laughter, which (as one unsavoury dish of meat among many other good viands) mar all their liberty of speech and the benefit thereof; so as it is vain and doth no good at all: And even so the authors and actors of such broad jests get nothing thereby but an opinion and imputation of a malicious disposition and impure scurrility: and to the hearers there accrueth no good nor profit at all.

At other times and in other places, I hold well with it, and grant that to jest with friends and move laughter is tolerable enough: but surely the liberty of speech then ought to be serious and modest, shewing a good intention without any purpose to gall or sting. And if it do concern weighty affairs indeed, let the words be so set and couched, the affection so appear, the countenance be so composed, and the gesture so ordered, and the voice so tuned, that all concurring together may win credit to the speech, and be effectual to move. But as in all things else, fit opportunity overslipt and neglected doth much hurt; so especially it is the occasion that the fruit of free speech is utterly lost, in case it be omitted and forgotten. Moreover this is evident, that we must take heed how we speak broad at a table where friends be met together to drink wine liberally and to make good cheer: for he that amid pleasant discourses and merry talk moveth a speech that causeth bending and knitting of brows, or others, maketh men to frown and be frowning, he doth as much as overcast fair weather with a black and dark cloud; opposing himself unto that god Lyæus,[3] who by good right hath that name, as Pindarus the poet saith:

For that the cord he doth untie
Of cares that breed anxiety.

Besides, this neglect of opportunity bringeth with it great danger; for that our minds and spirits, kindled once with wine, are easy enflamed with choler; yea, and oftentimes it falleth out, that a man after he hath taken his drink well, when he thinketh but to use his freedom of tongue for to give some wholesome advertisement and admonition, ministreth occasion of great enmity. And to say all in few words, it is not the part of a generous, confident, and resolute heart, but rather of a craven kind and unmanly, to forbear plain speech when men are sober, and to keep a-barking at the board, like unto those cowardly cur dogs who never snarl but about a bone under the table. And now of this point, needless it is to discourse any longer.

But forasmuch as many men neither will nor dare control and reform their friends when they do amiss, so long as they be in prosperity; as being of opinion that such admonition cannot have access nor reach into a fortunate state that standeth upright; and yet the same persons when men are falling, are ready to lay them along, and being once down, to make a football of them, or tread them under feet, or else keep them so when they be once under the hatches, giving their liberty of speech full scope to run over them all at once; as a breakwater which having been kept up perforce against the nature and course thereof, is now let go, and the flood-gates drawn up; rejoicing at his change and infortunity of theirs, in regard as well of their pride and arrogancy, who before disdained and despised them; as also of themselves, who are but in mean and low estate: it were not impertinent to this place for to discourse a little of this matter, and to answer that verse of Euripides:

When fortune doth upon men smile,
What need have they of friends the while?

Namely, that even then when as they seem to have fortune at command, they stand in most necessity, and ought to have their friends about them, to pluck down their plumes and bring under their haughtiness of heart, occasioned by prosperity: for few there be who with their outward felicity continue wise and sober in mind, breaking not forth into insolence; yea, and many there are who have need of wit, discretion and reason to be put into them from without, to abate and depress them being set agog and puffed up with the favours of fortune: But say that the divine power do change and turn about, and overthrow their state, or clip their wings and diminish their greatness and authority, then these calamities of themselves are scourges sufficient, putting them in mind of their errors, and working repentance: and then in such distress there is no use at all either of friends to speak unto them frankly, or of pinching and biting speeches, to molest and trouble them, but to say a truth, in these mutations

It greatly doth content our minds
To see the face of pleasant friends,

who may yield consolation, comfort and strength to a distressed heart, like as Xenophon doth write, that in battles and the greatest extremities of danger, the amiable visage and cheerful countenance of Clearchus being once seen of the soldiers, encouraged them much more to play the men and fight lustily: whereas he that useth unto a man distressed, such plain speech as may gall and bite him more, doth as much as one who unto a troubled and inflamed eye applieth some quick eye-salve or sharp drug that is proper for to clear the sight: by which means he cureth not the infirmity beforesaid, neither doth he mitigate or allay the pain, but unto sorrow and grief of mind already addeth anger moreover, and doth exasperate a wounded heart.

And verily so long as a man is in the latitude of health, he is not so testy, froward, and impatient, but that he will in some sort give ear unto his friend, and think him neither rough nor altogether rude and uncivil, in case he tell him of his looseness of life, how he is given too much either unto women or wine; or if he find fault with his idleness and sitting still, or contrariwise his excessive exercise; if he reprove him for haunting so often the bains or hot-houses, and never lying out of them, or blame him for gormandise and belly cheer, or eating at undue hours. But if he be once sick, then it is a death unto him and a grief insupportable, which doth aggravate his malady, to have one at his bedside sounding ever in his ears; See what comes of your drunkenness, your idleness, your surfeiting and gluttony, your wenching and lechery, these are the causes of your disease. But what will the sick man say again: Away, good sir, with these unseasonable words of yours: you trouble me much, and do me no good iwis: I am about making my last will and testament; my physicians are busy preparing and tempering a potion of scammony, or a drink of castoreum for me: and you come preaching unto me with your philosophical reasons and admonitions to chastise me: I have no need of them now, nor of such friends as you. Semblably it fareth with those who are fallen to decay and be down the wind; for capable they be not of sententious saws; they have no need as the case now stands of free reprehensions: then lenity and gentle usage, aid and comfort are more meet for them. For even so, kind nurses when their little babes and infants have caught a fall, run not by and by to rate or chide them, but to take them up, wash and make them clean where they were berayed, and to still them by all means that they can; afterwards they rebuke and chastise them for looking no better to their feet.

It is reported of Demetrius the Phalerian, when being banished out of his country, he lived at Thebes in mean estate and very obscurely, that at the first he was not well pleased to see Crates the philosopher, who came to visit him, as looking ever when he would begin with some rough words unto him, according to that liberty of speech which those cynic philosophers then used: but when he heard Crates once speak kindly unto him, and discoursing after a mild manner of the state of his banishment: namely, that there was no misery fallen unto him by that means, nor any calamity at all, for which he should vex and torment himself; but rather that he had cause to rejoice, in that he was sequestered and delivered from the charge and management of such affairs as were ticklish, mutable and dangerous; and withal exhorting him to pluck up his heart, and be of good cheer, yea, and repose all his comfort in his own self and a clear conscience. Then Demetrius being more lightsome, and taking better courage, turned to his friends and said, Shame take those affairs and businesses; out upon those troublesome and restless occupations, which have kept me from the knowledge and acquaintance of such a worthy man: For

If men be in distress and grief,
Sweet words of friends do bring relief:
But foolish sots in all their actions.
Have need eftsoons of sharp corrections.

And verily this is the manner of generous and gentle friends; but other base-minded and abject fellows, who flatter and fawn whiles fortune doth smile; like unto old ruptures, spasms, and cramps (as Demosthenes saith) do then stir and shew themselves, when any new accident happeneth unto the body, so they also stick close to every change and alteration of fortune, as being glad thereof, and taking pleasure and contentment therein. For, say that a man afflicted were to be put in mind of his fault and misgovernment of himself, by reason that he hath taken lewd courses and followed ill counsel, and so fallen into this or that inconvenience, it were sufficient to say thus unto him:

You never took by mine advice this course,
Against the same how oft did I discourse?

In what cases and occurrences, then, ought a friend to be earnest and vehement? and when is he to use his liberty of speech, and extend it to the full? even then, when occasion is offered, and the time serveth best to repress excessive pleasure, to restrain unbridled choler, to refrain intolerable pride and insolency, to stay insatiable avarice, or to stand against any foolish habitude and inconsiderate motion. Thus Solon spake freely unto King Crœsus, when he saw how he was clean corrupted, and grown beyond all measure arrogant upon the opinion that he had of his felicity in this world, which was uncertain, advertising him to look unto the end. Thus Socrates clipped the wings of Alcibiades, and by convincing his vice and error, caused him to weep bitterly, and altered quite the disposition of his heart. Such were the remonstrances and admonitions of Cyrus to Cyaxares, and of Plato to Dion, even when he was in his greatest ruff, in the very height of his glory: when (I say) all men's eyes were upon him, for his worthy acts and great success in all affairs, willing him even then to take heed and beware of arrogancy and self-conceit, as being the vice that dwelleth in the same house together with solitude (that is to say) which maketh a man to live apart from the whole world. And to the same effect wrote Speusippus also unto him, when he bade him look to himself, and not take a pride and presume much upon this; That there was no talk among women and children but of him; rather that he should have a care so to adorn Sicily with religion and piety towards the gods, with justice and good laws in regard of men, that the school of the academy might have honour and credit by him. Contrariwise, Euctæus and Eulæus, two minions and favourites of King Perseus, who followed his vein and pleased his humour in all things, like other courtiers of his, all the while that he flourished, and so long as the world went on his side: but after he had lost the field in a battle against the Romans, fought near the city Pydna, and was fled, they let fly at him gross terms and reproachful speeches, bitterly laying to his charge all the misdemeanours and faults that he had before committed, casting in his dish those persons whom he had evil in treated or despised; which they ceased not to do so long, until the man (partly for sorrow, and partly for anger) was so moved, that he stabbed them both with his dagger, and slew them in the place.

Thus much in general may suffice to determine and define as touching the opportunity of free speech to friends: meanwhile a faithful and careful friend must not reject such occasions as many times are presented unto him by them, but to take hold thereof quickly, and make good use of them: for otherwhiles it falleth out, that a demand or question asked, a narration related, a reprehension or commendation of like things in other persons, open the door and make way for us to enter, and giveth us leave to speak frankly. After this manner it is said that Demaratus took his vantage to utter his mind freely: who coming upon a time from Corinth to Macedonia, whenas King Philip was in some terms of dissension with his wife and son, was friendly received by Philip and bidden kindly welcome. Now after salutations and other compliments passed between, the king asked him whether the Greeks were at accord and unity one with another? Demaratus, as he was a friend very inward with him, and one that loved him heartily, answered thus; It becometh you well indeed, sir, to enquire of the concord and agreement between the Athenians and the Peloponnesians, when in the meanwhile you suffer your own house to be full of domestical quarrels and debates. Well did Diogenes likewise, who being come into the camp of King Philip, when he had an expedition or journey against the Greeks, was taken and brought before the king, who not knowing what he was, demanded of him if he were not a spy: Yes, marry (quoth he), and come I am to spy out your inconsiderate folly (O Philip) and want of forecast, who being not urged nor compelled by any man, are come thus far to hazard in one hour the state of your kingdom and your own life, and to lay all upon the chance and cast of a die.

But some man peradventure will say. This was a speech somewhat with the sharpest, and too much biting. Moreover, another fit time and occasion there is of admonition, when those whom we mind to reprove, having been reproached and taunted already by others for some faults which they committed, are become submiss and cast down to our hands. Which opportunity a wise and skilful friend will not omit, but make especial good use of: namely, by seeming in open place to check those that thus have slandered them, yea, and to repulse and put back such opprobrious imputations, but privately he will take his friend apart by himself, and put him in mind to live more warily and give no such offence, if for no other thing else; yet because his enemies should not take vantage, and bear themselves insolently against him: For how shall they be able to open their mouths against you, and what misword can they have to say unto you, if you would leave these things and cast them behind you, for which you hear ill and are grown to some obloquy? In this sort if the matter be handled, all the offence that was taken shall light upon the head of the first slanderer, and the profit shall be attributed unto the other that gave the friendly advertisement, and he shall go away with all the thanks.

Some there be, moreover, who after a more cleanly and fine manner in speaking of others, admonish their own familiar friends: for they will accuse strangers in their hearing for those faults which they know them to commit, and by this means reclaim them from the same. Thus Ammonius, our master, perceiving when he gave lecture in the afternoon that some of us his scholars had taken a larger dinner, and eaten more than was meet for students, commanded a servant of his affranchised to take up his own son and to beat him, and why so? He cannot forsooth make his dinner (quoth he) but he must have some vinegar to his meat. And in saying so, he cast his eye upon us, in such sort that as many as were culpable took themselves to be rebuked, and thought that he meant them.

Furthermore, this good regard would be observed, that we never use this fashion of free speech, and reproving our friend in the presence of many persons, but we must remember that which befel unto Plato: for when upon a time Socrates in a disputation held at the table inveighed somewhat too bitterly against one of his familiars before them all: Had it not been better (quoth Plato) to have told him of this privately, but thus to shame him before all this company? But Socrates taking him presently therewith, And you also might have done better to have said this to myself, when you had found me alone. Pythagoras by report gave such hard terms by way of reproof to one of his scholars and acquaintance, in the hearing of many, that the young man for very grief of heart was weary of his life and hanged himself. But never would Pythagoras after to his dying day reprove or admonish any man, if another were in place.

And to say a truth, as well the detection as the correction of a sin ought to be secret, and not in public place, like as the discovery and cure also of some filthy and foul disease: it must not, I say, be done in the view of the world (as if some shew or pomp were to be exhibited unto the people) with calling witnesses or spectators thereto. For it is not the part of a friend, but a trick of some sophister, to seek for glory in other men's faults, and affect outward shew and vain ostentation in the presence of others: much like to these mountebank chirurgeons, who for to have the greater practice, make shew of their cunning casts and operations of their art in public theatres, with many gesticulations of their handiwork. Moreover, besides that there should no infamy grow to him that is reproved (which indeed is not to be allowed in any cure or remedy), there ought also to be some regard had of the nature of vice and sin, which for the most part of itself is opinionative, contentious, stubborn, and apt to stand to it, and make means of defence. For as Euripides saith,

We daily see not only wanton love
Doth press the more when one doth it reprove.

But any vice whatsoever it be and every imperfection, if a man do reprove it in public place before many, and spare not at all, putteth on the nature of impudence and turneth to be shameless: like as therefore Plato giveth a precept, that elder folk, if they would imprint shame and grace in their young children, ought themselves first to shew shamefast behaviour among them; even so, the modest and bashful liberty of speech which one friend useth, doth strike also a great shame in another. Also to come and approach by little and little unto one that offendeth, and after a doubting manner with a kind of fear to touch him, is the next way to undermine the vice that he is prone and given unto, whiles he cannot choose but be modestly disposed, who is so modestly and gently entreated. And therefore it would be always very good in those reprehensions to observe what he did, who in like case reproving a friend.

Held head full close unto his ear.
That no man else but he might hear.

But less seemly and convenient it is for to discover the fault of the husband before his wife; of a father in the presence of his sons; of a lover before his love; or of a schoolmaster in the hearing of his scholars: that were enough to put them beside their right wits for anger and grief when they shall see themselves checked and discredited before those of whom they desire to be best esteemed.

And verily of this mind I am, that it was not the wine so much that set King Alexander in such a chafe and rage against Clitus when he reproved him, as for that he did it in the presence and hearing of so many. Aristomenes also, the master and tutor of King Ptolemæus, for that in the sight of an ambassador he awaked him out of a sleep, and willed him to give ear unto the embassage that was delivered, ministered unto his evil-willers and the flatterers about the court great vantage, who thereupon took occasion to seem discontented in the king's behalf, and thus to say: What if after so many travels that your majesty doth undergo, and your long watching for our sakes, some sleep do overtake you otherwhiles; our part it were to tell you of it privately, and not thus rudely to lay hand as it were upon your person in the presence of so many men. Whereupon Ptolemæus being moved at these suggestions, sent unto the man a cup of poison, with commandment that he should drink it off. Aristophanes also casteth this in Cleon his teeth:

For that when strangers were in place
The town with terms he did disgrace,

and thereby provoke the Athenians and bring their high displeasure upon him. And therefore this regard would be had especially above all others, that when we would use our liberty of speech, we do it not by way of ostentation in a vainglory to be popular, and to get applause, but only with an intention to profit and do good, yea and to cure some infirmity thereby.

Over and besides that which Thucydides reporteth of the Corinthians, how they gave out of themselves and not unfitly, that it belonged unto them, and meet men they were to reprove others; the same ought they to have in them that will take upon them to be correctors of other persons. For like as Lysander answered to a certain Megarian who put himself forward in an assembly of associates and allies to speak frankly for the liberty of Greece: These words of yours (my friend) would beseem to have been spoken by some puissant state or city; even so it may be said to every one that will seem freely to reprehend another, that he had need himself to be in manners well reformed. And this most truly ought to be inferred upon all those that will seem to chastise and correct others, namely, to be wiser and of better government than the rest: for thus Plato protested that he reformed Speusippus by example of his own life: and Xenocrates likewise casting but his eye upon Polemon, who was come into his school like a ruffian, by his very look only reclaimed him from his loose life: whereas on the contrary side, if a light and lewd person, one that is full of bad conditions himself, would seem to find fault with others and be busy with his tongue, he must be sure always to hear this on both sides of his ears:

Himself all full of sores impure
Will others seem to heal and cure.

Howbeit, forasmuch as oftentimes the case standeth so, that by occasion of some affairs we be driven to chastise those with whom we converse, when we ourselves are culpable and no better than they: the most cleanly and least offensive way to do it is this, To acknowledge in some sort that we be likewise faulty and to include and comprehend our own persons together with them; after which manner is that reproof in Homer:

Sir Diomede, what aileth us?
How is it come about?
That we should thus forget to fight,
Who erst were thought so stout?

Also in another place:

And now we all unworthy are
With Hector only to compare.

Thus Socrates mildly and gently would seem to reprove young men, making semblance as if himself were not void of ignorance, but had need also to be instructed in virtue, and professing that he had need with them to search for the knowledge of truth: for such commonly do win love and credit, yea, and sooner shall be believed, who are thought subject to the same faults, and seem willing to correct their friends like as they do their own selves; whereas he who spreadeth and displayeth his own wings, in clipping other men's, justifying himself as if he were pure, sincere, faultless, and without all affections and infirmities, unless he be much elder than we, or in regard of some notable and approved virtue in far higher place of authority and in greater reputation than ourselves, he shall gain no profit nor do any good, but be reputed a busybody and troublesome person. And therefore it was not without just cause that good Phoenix in speaking to Achilles alleged his own misfortunes, and namely how in a fit of choler he had like one day to have killed his own father, but that suddenly he bethought himself and changed his mind,

Lest that among the Greeks I should be nam'd
A parricide, and ever after sham'd:

which he did no doubt to this end, because he would not seem in chiding him to arrogate this praise unto himself, that he was not subject to anger, nor had ever done amiss by occasion of that infirmity and passion. Certes such admonitions as these enter and pierce more effectually into the heart, for that they are thought to proceed from a tender compassion; and more willing are we to yield unto such as seem to have suffered the like, than to those that despise and contemn us. But forasmuch as neither the eye when it is inflamed can abide any clear and shining light, nor a passionate mind endure frank speech, or a plain and bare reprehension, one of the best and most profitable helps in this case is to intermingle therewith a little praise, as we read thus in Homer:

Now (sure) methinks you do not well,
Thus for to leave the field,
Who all are known for doughty knights,
And best with spear and shield.
A coward if I saw to flee,
Him would I not reprove:
But such as you, thus for to shrink,
My heart doth greatly move.

Likewise:

O Pandar, where is now thy bow,
Where are thine arrows flight;
Where is that honour, in which none
With thee dare strive in fight?

And verily such oblique reprehensions also as these, are most effectual and wonderful in reclaiming those that be ready to run on end, and fall to some gross enormities: as for example:

What is become of wise Œdipus,
In riddles a-reading who was so famous?

Also:

And Hercules, who hath endur'd such pain,
Speaks he these words, so foolish and so vain?

For this kind of dealing doth not only assuage and mitigate the roughness and commanding power that is in a reprehension and rebuke, but also breedeth in the party in such sort reproved, a certain emulation of himself, causing him to be abashed and ashamed for any follies and dishonest pranks, when he remembreth and calleth to mind his other good parts and commendable acts, which by this means he setteth before his eyes, as examples, and so taketh himself for a pattern and precedent of better things: But when we make comparison between him and others, to wit, his equals in age, his fellow-citizens, or kinsfolk; then his vice, which in the own nature is stubborn and opinionative enough, becometh by that means more froward and exasperate, and oftentimes he will not stick in a fume and chafe to fling away, and grumble in this wise, Why go you not then to those that are so much better than I? why can you not let me alone, but thus trouble me as you do? And therefore we must take heed especially, that whiles we purpose to tell one plainly of his faults, we do not praise others, unless haply they be his parents: as Agamemnon did unto Diomedes:

A son (iwis) Sir Tideus left behind,
Unlike himself, and much grown out of kind.

And Ulysses in the tragedy entituled Scyrii:

You, sir, whose father was a knight.
The best that ever drew
A sword, of all the Greeks, in field.
And many a captain slew.
Sit you here carding like a wench,
And spinning wool on rock.
Thereby the glorious light to quench
Of your most noble stock?

But most unseemly it were and undecent of all other, if when one is admonished by his friend, he should fall to admonish him again; and being told freely of his fault, serve him the like, and quit him with as much: for this is the next way to kindle coals, and to make variance and discord; and in one word verily, such a rejecting and spurning again as this, may seem in effect to bewray, not a reciprocal liberty of rendering one for another, but rather a peevish mind that can abide no manner of reproof. Better therefore it is to endure patiently for the time, a friend that telleth us plainly of our faults; and if himself afterwards chance to offend and have need of the like reprehension, this after a sort giveth free liberty unto him that was rebuked afore, to use the same liberty of speech again unto the other: For calling to mind by this occasion, without any remembrance of old grudge and former injury, that himself also was wont not to neglect his friends when they did amiss and forgat themselves, but took pains to reprove, redress, and teach them how to amend, he will the sooner yield a fault, and receive that chastisement and correction, which he shall perceive to be a retribution of like love and kindness, and not a requital of complaint and anger.

Moreover, like as Thucydides saith, That the man is wise and well advised, who incurreth the envy of men for matters of greatest weight and importance; even so we say: That if a friend will adventure the danger and heavy load and ill will for blaming his friends, he must make choice of such matters as be of great moment and much consequence: for if he will take exceptions at every trifle and little thing indifferent; if he will seem evermore to be finding fault, and carry himself not like a kind and affectionate friend, but a precise, severe, and imperious schoolmaster, to spy all faults, and correct every point and tittle; certes, he shall find afterwards, that his admonitions, even for the greatest offences, shall not be regarded, nor any whit effectual: for that he hath used already to no purpose, his frank reprehension (the sovereign remedy for gross and main faults) in many others that are but slight, and not worthy reproof: much like unto a physician, who hath employed and spent a medicine that is strong and bitter, howbeit, necessary and costly, in small infirmities, and of no reckoning to speak of. A friend therefore is to look unto this; That it be not an ordinary matter with him to be always quarrelsome, and desirous to find one fault or other. And if peradventure he meet with such a companion as is apt to search narrowly into all light matters, to cavil and wrangle for everything, and ready to raise calumniations like a petty sycophant for toys and trifles, he may take the better advantage and occasion thereby for to reprove him again, in case he chance to fail in greater and more gross faults.

Philotimus the physician answered prettily unto one, who having an impostume grown to suppuration about his liver, shewed unto him a finger that was sore, and troubled with some blister or whitflaw, and desired his counsel for the same: My good friend (quoth he), the disease that you are to look unto is not a whitflaw nor about your nail root; even so, there may be occasion and opportunity offered unto a friend, to say unto one that ever and anon is finding fault, and reproving small errors not worth the noting, to wit, sports and pastimes, feasting and merry meeting, or such-like trifling tricks of youth: Good sir, let us find the means rather, that this man whom you thus blame may cast off the harlot that he keeps, or give over his dice-playing; for otherwise he is a man of excellent and wonderful good parts. For he that perceiveth how he is tolerated or winked at, yea, and pardoned in small matters, will not be unwilling that a friend should use his liberty in reproving his greater vices: whereas he that is evermore urgent upon one, pressing and lying hard unto him; always bitter and unpleasant, prying and looking into every corner, and taking knowledge of all things: such an one (I say) there is neither child nor brother will endure; nay, he is intolerable to his very servants: But like as Euripides saith:

All is not naught that old age brings,
We may in it find some good things.

No more is the folly of friends so bad but that we may pick some goodness out of them: we ought therefore to observe diligently, not only when they do amiss, but also when they do well: and verily at the first to be willing and most ready to praise: but afterwards we must do as the smiths who temper iron: For when they have given it a fire, and made it by that means soft, loose, and pliable, they drench and dip it in cold water, whereby it becometh compact and hard, taking thereby the due temperature of stiff steel; even so, when we perceive that our friends be well heat and relaxed (as it were) by hearing themselves praised by us, then we may come upon them by little and little with a tincture (as I may so say) of reproof, and telling them of their faults. Then will it be a fit time to speak unto a friend thus: How say you, are these pranks worthy to be compared with those parts? See you not the fruits that come of virtue? Lo, what we your friends require of you: these are the duties and offices which are beseeming your person: for these hath nature made and framed you. As for those lewd courses, fie upon them:

Send such away, confine them far,
 Unto the mountain wild,
Or into roaring sea, from land
 Let them be quite exil'd.

For like as an honest-minded and discreet physician will choose rather to cure the malady of his patient by rest and sleep, or by good nutriture and diet, than by castoreum or scammonium: even so, a kind and courteous friend, a good father and gentle schoolmaster, taketh pleasure and joyeth more to use praises than reproofs, in the reformation of manners. For there is nothing that maketh the man who boldly findeth fault with his friends to be so little offensive unto them, or to do more good and cure them better, than to be void of anger, and to seem after a mild sort in all love and affectionate goodwill to address himself unto them, when they do amiss. And therefore neither ought he to urge them overmuch, and seem too eagerly to convince them if they deny the thing, nor yet to debar them of liberty to make their answer and clear themselves: but rather to help them out, and after a sort to minister unto them some honest and colourable pretences, to excuse and justify their facts: and when a man seeth them do amiss by reason of some worse cause indeed, to lay the fault upon another occasion that is more tolerable. As Hector when he said unto Paris:

Unhappy man, alas, you do not well
To bear in breast a heart so fell.

As if his brother's retire out of battle and refusal to combat with Menelaus, had not been a mere flight and running away, but very anger and a curst stomach. Likewise Nestor unto Agamemnon:

But you gave place unto your haughty mind:
And feed those fits which come to you by kind.

For in mine advice a more mild reprehension is this than to have said: This was injuriously done of you, or this was a shameful and villanous part of yours; As also to say unto one, You could not tell what you did; you thought not of it; or you were altogether ignorant what would come thereof, is better and more civil than bluntly to charge him and say: This was a mere wrong, and a wicked act of yours. Also thus, Do not contest and quarrel in this wise with your brother, is less offensive than to say: Deal not thus enviously and spitefully against your brother: Likewise it were a more gentle manner of reproof to say unto a man: Avoid this woman that spoileth and abuseth you; than thus: Give over this woman, spoil and abuse her no more. Thus you see what means are to be used in this liberty of speech, when a friend would cure a malady.

But for to prevent the same, there would be practised a clean contrary course: for when it behoveth to avert and turn our friends from committing a fault, whereto they are prone and inclined; or to withstand some violent and disordinate passion, which carrieth them a clean contrary way; or when we are desirous to incite and stir them forward unto good things, being of themselves slow and backward: when, I say, we would give an edge unto them, who are otherwise dull, and heat them being cold, we ought to transfer the thing or act in hand to some absurd causes, and those that be unseemly and undecent. Thus Ulysses pricked on Achilles in a certain tragedy of Sophocles, when he said thus unto him: It is not for a supper, Achilles, that you are so angry, but

For that you have already seen
The walls of Troy, your fearful teen.

And when upon these words Achilles took greater indignation, and chafed more and more, saying, that he would not sail forward but be gone back again, he came upon him a second time with this rejoinder:

I wot well why you gladly would depart:
'Tis not because at checks or taunts you chafe,
But Hector is not far: he kills your heart;
For dread of him to stay it is not safe.

By this means when we scar a valiant and hardy man with the opinion of cowardice; an honest, chaste, and civil person with the note of being reputed loose and incontinent; also a liberal and sumptuous magnifico with the fear to be accounted a niggard or a mechanical micher; we do mightily incite them to well-doing, and chase them from bad ways. And like as when a thing is done and past, and where there is no remedy, there should be borne a modest and temperate hand, in such sort that in our liberty of speech we seem to shew more commiseration, pity and fellow-grief of mind for the fault of a friend, than eager reprehension; so contrariwise where it stands upon this point that he should not fault, where (I say) our drift is to fight against the motion of his passions, there we ought to be vehement, inexorable, and never to give over nor yield one jot unto them. And this is the very time when we are to shew that love of ours and goodwill which is constant, settled, and sure, and to use our true liberty of speech to the full. For to reprove faults already committed, we see it is an ordinary thing among arrant enemies. To which purpose said Diogenes very well; That a man who would be an honest man ought to have either very good friends, or most shrewd and bitter enemies: for as they do teach and instruct, so these are ready to find fault and reprove.

Now far better it is for one to abstain from evil doing, in believing and following the sound counsel of his friends, than to repent afterwards of ill doing, when he seeth himself blamed and accused by his enemies. And therefore if it were for nothing else but this, great discretion and circumspection would be used in making remonstrances and speaking freely unto friends: and so much the rather, by how much it is the greater and stronger remedy that friendship can use, and hath more need to be used in time and place convenient, and more wisely to be tempered with a mean and mediocrity.

Now forasmuch as I have said sundry times already, that all reprehensions whatsoever are dolorous unto him that receiveth them; we ought in this case to imitate good physicians and chirurgeons: for when they have made incision or cut any member, they leave not the place in pain and torment still, but use certain fomentations and lenitive infusions to mitigate the anguish: No more do they that after a civil manner have chid or rebuked, run away presently so soon as they have bitten and pricked the party, but by changing their manner of speech, entertain their friends thus galled and wounded, with other more mild and pleasant discourses; to assuage their grief and refresh their heart again that is cast down and discomforted: and I may well compare them to these cutters and carvers of images, who after they have rough hewn and scabbled over certain pieces of stone for to make their statues of, do polish and smooth them fair, yea and give them a lightsome lustre. But if a man be stung and nipped once, or touched to the quick by some objurgatory reprehension, and so left rough, uneven, disquieted, swelling and puffing for anger, he is ever after hardly quieted or reclaimed, and no consolation will serve the turn to appease and comfort him again. And therefore they who reprove and admonish their friends, ought to observe this rule above all others; Not to forsake them immediately when they have so done, nor to break off their conference suddenly, or to conclude their speech with any word that might grieve and provoke them.


  1. Pliny reporteth this of King Alexander, and not of Megabysus.
  2. τυμπανίζοντος και τελεοῦντος. Some expound it, beating his subjects with cudgels, and oppressing them with excessive exactions.
  3. Some read Lydius