(for it is of him Bacon is speaking) was quite right in saying that to Man, such as Man is, friendship is indispensable to happiness; and that one who has no need, and feels no need of it, must be either much above human nature, or much below it.' Aristotle does not presume to say that no Being can exist so exalted as to be wholly independent of all other Beings, and to require no sympathy, nor admit of it; but that such a Being must be a widely different Being from Man.

'It is most untrue, that it should have any character at all of divine nature.'

Well might Bacon doubt, or deny, that incapacity for friend ship could assimilate Man to the divine nature. We do not find that true Christians-those whom Peter describes as 'partakers of a divine nature through the great and precious promises given unto them "become less and less capable of friendship in proportion as they, in any measure, attain to that resemblance to their divine Master, which is yet to be their perfection and their happiness, when they shall see Him as He is,'3 and after which they are now, here below, continually striving. We do not find that, as they increase in universal charity, particular friendships are swallowed up in it, or that any progress to higher and more exalted christian attainment makes a partial regard towards one good man more than another, unworthy of them, and too narrow a feeling for them to entertain. Far from it, indeed it is generally observed, on the contrary, that the best Christians, and the fullest, both of brotherly love towards all 'who are of the household of faith,' and of universal tenderness and benevolence towards all their fellow-creatures, are also the warmest and steadiest in their friendships.

Nor have we any reason to believe that in the future state of blessedness and glory, when the saint is indeed made perfect, any part of his perfection will consist in being no longer capable of special individual friendship. There are many persons, however, who believe that it will be so; and this is one of the

1 ‘Ὁ δὲ μὴ δυνάμενος κοινωνεῖν ἢ μηθὲν δεόμενος δι' αὐτάρκειαν, οὐθὲν μέρος πόλεως wore † Onplov † Oéos.'—Arist. Politics, Book i. Bacon probably quoted from a Latin translation: Homo solitarius, aut Deus aut bestia.'

2 2 Pet. i. 4.

31 John iii. 2.

many points in which views of the eternal state of the heirs of salvation are rendered more uninteresting to our feelings, and consequently, more uninviting, than there is any need to make them. Many suppose that when we have attained to that eternal state, the more concentrated and limited affection will be lost in brotherhood with that multitude which no man can number, redeemed out of every nation, and kindred, and people.' But if we find, as we do find, that private friendship does not interfere with christian brotherhood, nor with universal benevolence, on earth, why should it do so in heaven?

But we have more decisive proof than this: no one can suppose that a Christian in his glorified state will be more exalted than his great Master while here on earth; from Him we must ever remain at an immeasurable distance: we hope, indeed, to be free from the sufferings of our blessed Lord in his state of humiliation here below; but never to equal his perfections. Yet He was not incapable of friendship. He certainly loved, indeed, all mankind, more than any other man ever did; since (as Paul says) while we were yet enemies, He died for us;' He loved especially the disciples who constantly followed Him; but even among the Apostles, He distinguished one as more peculiarly and privately his friend-John was 'the disciple whom Jesus loved. Can we then ever be too highly exalted to be capable of friendship?

'I am convinced, on the contrary, that the extension and perfection of friendship will constitute great part of the future happiness of the blest. Many have lived in various and distant ages and countries, perfectly adapted (I mean not merely in their being generally estimable, but in the agreement of their tastes, and suitableness of dispositions) for friendship with each other, but who, of course, could never meet in this world. Many a one selects, when he is reading history,-a truly pious Christian, most especially in reading sacred history,-some one or two favourite characters, with whom he feels that a personal acquaintance would have been peculiarly delightful to him. Why should not such a desire be realized in a future state? A wish to see and personally know, for example, the Apostle Paul, or John, is the most likely to arise in the noblest and purest mind;

1 From A View of the Scripture Revelations of a Future State.

I should be sorry to think such a wish absurd and presump tuous, or unlikely to be gratified. The highest enjoyment, doubtless, to the blest, will be the personal knowledge of their divine and beloved Master; yet I cannot but think that some part of their happiness will consist in an intimate knowledge of the greatest of his followers also; and of those of them in particular whose peculiar qualities are, to each, the most peculiarly attractive.

In this world, again, our friendships are limited not only to those who live in the same age and country, but to a small portion even of those who are not unknown to us, and whom we know to be estimable and amiable, and who, we feel, might have been among our dearest friends. Our command of time and leisure to cultivate friendships, imposes a limit to their extent; they are bounded rather by the occupation of our thoughts, than of our affections. And the removal of such impediments in a better world, seems to me a most desirable, and a most probable change.

'I see no reason, again, why those who have been dearest friends on earth, should not, when admitted to that happy state, continue to be so, with full knowledge and recollection of their former friendship. If a man is still to continue (as there is every reason to suppose) a social Being, and capable of friendship, it seems contrary to all probability that he should cast off or forget his former friends, who are partakers with him of the like exaltation. He will, indeed, be greatly changed from what he was on earth, and unfitted perhaps for friendship with such a Being as one of us is NOW; but his friend will have undergone (by supposition) a corresponding change. And as we have seen those who have been loving playfellows in childhood, grow up, if they grow up with good, and with like, dispositions, into still closer friendship in riper years, so also it is probable that when this our state of childhood shall be perfected, in the maturity of a better world, the like attachment will continue

The same thought is beautifully expressed by one of the most excellent of sacred poets—the author of The Christian Year:

between those companions who have trod together the christian path to Glory, and have taken sweet counsel together, and walked in the house of God as friends.' A change to indifference towards those who have fixed their hearts on the same objects with ourselves during this earthly pilgrimage, and have given and received mutual aid during their course, is a change as little, I trust, to be expected, as it is to be desired. It certainly is not such a change as the Scriptures teach us to prepare for.

And a belief that, under such circumstances, our earthly attachments will remain, is as beneficial as it is reasonable. It is likely very greatly to influence our choice of friends; which surely is no small matter. A sincere Christian would not indeed be, at any rate, utterly careless whether those were sincere Christians also, with whom he connected himself: but his care is likely to be much greater, if he hopes, that, provided he shall have selected such as are treading the same path, and if he shall have studied to promote their eternal welfare, he shall meet again, never to part more, those to whom his heart is most engaged here below. The hope also of rejoining in a better state, the friend whom he sees advancing towards that state, is an additional spur to his own virtuous exertions. Everything which can make heaven appear more desirable, is a help towards his progress in christian excellence; and as one of the greatest of earthly enjoyments to the best and most exalted Christian, is to witness the happiness of a friend, so, one of the brightest of his hopes will be, that of exulting in the most perfect happiness of those most dear to him.

'As for the grief, which a man may be supposed to feel, for the loss-the total and final loss-of some who may have been dear to him on earth, as well as of vast multitudes, I fear, of his fellow-creatures, I have only this to remark: that a wise, and good man in this life, though he never ceases to use his endeavours to reclaim the wicked, and to diminish every kind of evil and suffering, yet, in cases where it is clear that no good can be done by him, strives, as far as possible (though often without much success), to withdraw his thoughts from evil which he cannot lessen, but which still, in spite of his efforts, will often cloud his mind. We cannot at pleasure draw off our thoughts entirely from painful subjects which it is in vain to meditate

about. The power to do this completely, when we will, would be a great increase of happiness; and this power, therefore, it is reasonable to suppose the blessed will possess in the world to come-that they will occupy their minds entirely with the thoughts of things agreeable, and in which their exertions can be of service; and will be able, by an effort of the will, completely to banish and exclude every idea that might alloy their happiness.'

A desire to sequester a man's self for a higher conversation such really and truly in divers of the ancient

as is found
hermits and holy fathers of the Church.'

Bacon here seems to agree in that commendation of a monastic life which is sometimes heard even now from Protestants. On this subject I take leave to quote a passage from the Cautions for the Times.

"The monks are represented by Roman-catholic writers as all pious men, who, bent upon the cultivation of a religious temper of mind, withdrew from the world for that purpose; as if the business and duties of this world were not the very discipline which God has appointed for cultivating real righteousness in us. And then, the learning, peace, and piety of the monas teries is strongly contrasted with the ignorance and irreligion and perpetual wars, of the dark and troublous times, which are commonly called 'the middle ages,' in such a manner that even Protestants are sometimes led to think and say, that, at least in former times, and for those times, the monasteries were commendable institutions. But they forget that it was the very system of which these were a part, which made the world so dark and unquiet; and then, like the ivy which has reduced a fine building to a shattered ruin, they held together the fragments of that ruin.

'Of course, if you teach men that holiness can be only, or can be best attained by withdrawing from the world into a cloister, all those who are bent on living a holy life will withdraw from the world; and they will, in so withdrawing, take from the world that which should reform it-the benefit of their teaching, and the encouragement of their example. One after another all those most promising men, who should have been, each in