"He who has a thousand friends,
Has never a one to spare,
And he who has one enemy,
Will meet him everywhere,"

and unfortunately, while there are few great friends there is no little
enemy.

I guard myself, however, by saying again--As long as they are well chosen.
One is thrown in life with a great many people who, though not actively
bad, though they may not wilfully lead us astray, yet take no pains with
themselves, neglect their own minds, and direct the conversation to petty
puerilities or mere gossip; who do not seem to realize that conversation
may by a little effort be made most instructive and delightful, without
being in any way pedantic; or, on the other hand, may be allowed to drift
into a mere morass of muddy thought and weedy words. There is hardly
anyone from whom we may not learn much, if only they will trouble
themselves to tell us. Nay, even if they teach us nothing, they may help
us by the stimulus of intelligent questions, or the warmth of sympathy.
But if they do neither, then indeed their companionship, if companionship
it can be called, is mere waste of time, and of such we may well say, "I
do desire that we be better strangers."

Much certainly of the happiness and purity of our lives depends on our
making a wise choice of our companions and friends. If our friends are
badly chosen they will inevitably drag us down; if well they will raise us
up. Yet many people seem to trust in this matter to the chapter of
accident. It is well and right, indeed, to be courteous and considerate to
every one with whom we are brought into contact, but to choose them as
real friends is another matter. Some seem to make a man a friend, or try