Let us in the next place discourse of the useful and
kind offices which the flatterer seems cheerfully ready upon
every occasion to perform, thereby rendering the disparity
betwixt him and the true friend extremely perplexed and
intricate.
For the temper of a friend, like the language of truth,
is (as Euripides says) sincere, natural, without paint or varnish; but that of a flatterer, as it is corrupt and diseased in
itself, so stands in need of many curious and exquisite remedies to correct it.1 And therefore you shall have friends
upon an accidental rencounter, without either giving or
receiving a formal salute, content themselves to speak their
mutual kindness and familiarity in a nod and a smile; but
the flatterer pursues you, runs to meet you, and extends his
hand long before he comes at you; and if you chance but
to see and salute him first, he swears you must excuse his
rudeness, and will produce you witness that he did not see
you, if you please. Thus again, a friend dwells not upon
every trifling punctilio, is not ceremonious and punctual in
the transacting of business, is not inquisitive, and does not
intrude into every piece of service; but the parasite is all
obedience, all perpetual indefatigable industry, admits no
rival in his services, but will wait your commands, which if
[p. 131]
you lay not upon him, he seems mightily afflicted, the unhappiest man in the world!
1 Eurip. Phoeniss. 472.
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