anced union. One gives so much more,
and has to be content to get so much less. One of the most humiliating
things in life is when another seems to offer his friendship lavishly,
and we are unable to respond. So much love seems to go a-begging. So
few attachments seem complete. So much affection seems unrequited.

But are we sure it is unrequited? The difficulty is caused by our
common selfish standards. Most people, if they had their choice, would
prefer to be loved rather than to love, if only one of the alternatives
were permitted. That springs from the root of selfishness in human
nature, which makes us think that possession brings happiness. But the
glory of life is to love, not to be loved; to give, not to get; to
serve, not to be served. It may not be our fault that we cannot
respond to the offer of friendship or love, but it is our misfortune.
The secret is revealed to the other, and hid from us. The gain is to
the other, and the loss is to us. The miracle is the love, and to the
lover comes the wonder of it, and the joy.

The Culture of Friendship

How were Friendship possible? In mutual devotedness to the Good and
True: otherwise impossible, except as Armed Neutrality, or hollow
Commercial League. A man, be the Heavens ever praised, is sufficient
for himself; yet were ten men, united in Love, capable of being and of
doing what ten thousand singly would fail in. Infinite is the help man
can yield to man.

CARLYLE, Sartor Resartus.

The Culture of Friendship

The Book of Proverbs might almost be called a treatise on Friendship,
so full is it of advice about the sort of person a young man should
consort with, and the sort of person he should avoid. It is full of
shrewd, and prudent, and wise, sometimes almost worldly-wise, counsel.
It is caustic in its satire about false friends, and about the way in
which friendships are broken. "The rich hath many friends," with an
easily understood implication concerning their quality. "Every man is
a friend to him that giveth gifts," is its sarcastic comment on the
ordinary motives of mean men. Its picture of the plausible, fickle,
lip-praising, and time-serving man, who blesseth his friend with a loud
voice, rising early in the morning, is a delicate piece of satire. The
fragile connections among men, as easily broken as mended pottery, get
illustration in the mischief-maker who loves to divide men. "A
whisperer separateth chief friend