Ch. 13
Concerning such as are too communicative
When any one appears to us to discourse frankly
of his own affairs, we too are somehow
tempted to disclose our secrets to him; and we consider this to be acting with frankness, - first, because
it seems unfair that when we have heard the affairs of
our neighbor, we should not in return communicate
ours to him; and besides, we think that we shall not
appear of a frank character, in concealing what belongs to ourselves. Indeed it is often said, " I have
told you all my affairs; and will you tell me none of
yours? How happens this? " Lastly, it is supposed
that we may safely trust him who has already trusted
us; for we imagine that he will never discover our
affairs, for fear we should in turn discover his. It is
thus that the inconsiderate are caught by the soldiers
at Rome. A soldier sits by you in a civilian's dress,
and begins to speak ill of Caesar. Then you, as if
you had received a pledge of his fidelity, by his first
beginning the abuse, say likewise what you think; and
so you are led away in chains to execution.
Something like this is the case with us in general.
But when one has safely intrusted his secrets to me,
shall I, in imitation of him, trust mine to any one who
comes in my way? The case is different. I indeed
hold my tongue (supposing me to be of such a disposition); but he goes and discovers them to everybody; and then, when I come to find it out, if I happen
to be like him, from a desire of revenge, I discover
his, and asperse and am aspersed. But if I remember that one man does not hurt another, but that every
one is hurt or profited by his own actions, I may
indeed keep to this, not to do anything like him;
yet, by my own talkative folly, I suffer what I do
suffer.
"Ay; but it is unfair, when you have heard the
secrets of your neighbor, not to communicate anything to him in return." Why, did I ask you to do
it, sir? Did you tell me your affairs upon condition
that I should tell you mine in return? If you are a
gossip, and take all you meet for friends, would you
have me too become like you? But what if the case
be this; that you did right in trusting your affairs to
me, but it is not right that I should trust you? Would
you have me run headlong, and fall? This is just as
if I had a sound barrel, and you a leaky one; and
you should come and deposit your wine with me, to
be put into my barrel; and then should take it ill
that, in my turn, I did not trust you with my wine.
No. You have a leaky barrel. How, then, are we
any longer upon equal terms? You have intrusted
your affairs to an honest man, and a man of honor;
one who finds his help or harm in his own actions
alone, and in nothing external. Would you have me
intrust mine to you, who have dishonored your own
will, and who would get a paltry sum, or a post of
power or preferment at court, even if it required you
to kill your own children, like Medea? Where is the
fairness in this? But show me that you are faithful,
honorable, steady; show me that you have principles
conducive to friendship; show me that your vessel is
not leaky, and you shall see that I will not wait for
you to intrust your affairs to me, but I will come and
entreat you to hear mine. For who would not make
use of a good vessel? Who despises a benevolent
and friendly adviser? Who will not gladly receive
one to share the burden, as it were, of his difficulties;
and by sharing, to make it lighter? "Well, but I
trust you, and you do not trust me." In the first
place, you do not really trust me; but you are a
gossip, and therefore can keep nothing in. For if the
former be the case, trust only me. But now, whenever you see a man at leisure, you sit down by him
and say: " My dear friend, there is not a man in th(
world who wishes me better, or has more kindness for
me, than you; I entreat you to hear my affairs." And
this you do to those with whom you have not the
least acquaintance. But if you do trust me, it is
plainly as a man of fidelity and honor, and not because I have told you my affairs. Let me alone, then,
till I reciprocate this opinion. Convince me that if a
person has told his affairs to any one, it is a proof of
his being a man of fidelity and honor. For if this
were the case, I would go about and tell my affairs to
the whole world, if I could thus become a man of
fidelity and honor. But that is no such matter; for
it demands of a man to have no ordinary principles.
If, then, you see any one taking pains for things
that belong to others, and subjecting his will to them,
be assured that this man has a thousand things to
compel and restrain him. He has no need of burning pitch, or the torturing wheel, to make him tell
what he knows; but the nod of a girl, for instance,
will shake his purpose; the good-will of a courtier;
the desire of an office, of an inheritance; ten thousand other things of that sort. It must therefore be
remembered, in general, that confidential discourses
require fidelity and a certain sort of principles. And
where, at this time, are these easily to be found?
Pray let any one show me a person of such a disposition as to say, I concern myself only for those things
which are my own, incapable of restraint, and by
nature free. This I esteem the essence of good. Let
the rest be as it may happen; it makes no difference
to me.