greater importance--by whom our whole life will be more or less influenced
either for good or evil--almost to chance.

It is no doubt true, as the _Autocrat of the Breakfast Table_ says, that
all men are bores except when we want them. And Sir Thomas Browne quaintly
observes that "unthinking heads who have not learnt to be alone, are a
prison to themselves if they be not with others; whereas, on the contrary,
those whose thoughts are in a fair and hurry within, are sometimes fain to
retire into company to be out of the crowd of themselves." Still I do not
quite understand Emerson's idea that "men descend to meet." In another
place, indeed, he qualifies the statement, and says, "Almost all people
descend to meet." Even so I should venture to question it, especially
considering the context. "All association," he adds, "must be a
compromise, and, what is worse, the very flower and aroma of the flower of
each of the beautiful natures disappears as they approach each other."
What a sad thought! Is it really so; need it be so? And if it were, would
friends be any real advantage? I should have thought that the influence of
friends was exactly the reverse: that the flower of a beautiful nature
would expand, and the colors grow brighter, when stimulated by the warmth
and sunshine of friendship.

It has been said that it is wise always to treat a friend, remembering
that he may become an enemy, and an enemy, remembering that he may become
a friend; and whatever may be thought of the first part of the adage,
there is certainly much wisdom in the latter. Many people seem to take
more pains and more pleasure in making enemies, than in making friends.
Plutarch, indeed, quotes with approbation the advice of Pythagoras "not to
shake hands with too many," but as long as friends are well chosen, it is
true rather that