How to Tell a Flatterer from a Friend (5-9)

For the very reason, however, that friendship is the most pleasant thing in the world, and because nothing else gives greater delight, the flatterer allures by means of pleasures and concerns himself

with pleasures. And just because graciousness and usefulness go with friendship (which is the reason why they say that a friend is more indispensable than fire and water), the flatterer thrusts himself into services for us, striving always to appear earnest, unremitting, and diligent. And inasmuch as that which most especially cements a friendship begun is a likeness of pursuits and characters, and since to take delight in the same things and avoid the same things is what generally brings people together in the first place, and gets them acquainted through the bond of sympathy, the flatterer takes note of this fact, and adjusts and shapes himself, as though he were so much inert matter, endeavouring to adapt and mould himself to fit those whom he attacks through imitation; and he is so supple in changes and so plausible in his copyings that we may exclaim:

Achilles’ self thou art and not his son.[*]

But the most unprincipled trick of all that he has is this: perceiving that frankness of speech, by common report and belief, is the language of friendship especially (as an animal has its peculiar cry), and, on the other hand, that lack of frankness is unfriendly and ignoble, he does not allow even this to escape imitation, but, just as clever cooks employ bitter extracts and astringent flavourings to remove the cloying effect of sweet things, so flatterers apply a frankness which is not genuine or beneficial, but which, as it were, winks while it frowns, and does nothing but tickle. For these reasons, then, the man is hard to detect, as is the case with some animals to which Nature has given the faculty of changing their hue, so that they exactly conform to the colours and objects beneath them. And since the flatterer uses resemblances to deceive and to wrap about him, it is our task to use the differences in order to unwrap him and lay him bare, in the act, as Plato [*] puts it, of adorning himself with alien colours and forms for want of any of his own.

Let us, then, consider this matter from the beginning. We have previously said that with most people the beginning of friendship is their congenial disposition and nature, which welcomes the same habits and traits, as nearly as may be, and takes delight in the same pursuits, activities, and avocations; on the subject of this it has also been said:

An old man hath the sweetest tongue for old, And child for child, and woman suits her kind, A sick man suits the sick; misfortune’s thrall Hath charms for him who hath just met mischance.[*]

So then the flatterer, knowing that when people take delight in the same things it is only natural that they find enjoyment and satisfaction in each other’s company, adopts this course in making his first attempts to approach each victim and to secure a lodgement near him; he acts as though the man were some animal running at large in a pasture, [*] and by affecting the same pursuits, the same avocations, interests and manner of life, he gradually gets close to him, and rubs up against him so as to take on his colouring, until his victim gives him some hold and becomes docile and accustomed to his touch: he is ever disapproving actions and lives and persons which he perceives his victim to dislike, while if anything pleases the other he commends, not with moderation, but so as plainly to outdo him in amazement and wonder, and at the same time he stoutly maintains that his affection and hatred are the result of judgement rather than of emotion.

What, then, is the method of exposing him, and by what differences is it possible to detect that he is not really like-minded, or even in a fair way to become like-minded, but is merely imitating such a character? In the first place, it is necessary to observe the uniformity and permanence of his tastes, whether he always takes delight in the same things, and commends always the same things, and whether he directs and ordains his own life according to one pattern, as becomes a free-born man and a lover of congenial friendship and intimacy; for such is the conduct of a friend. But the flatterer, since he has no abiding-place of character to dwell in, and since he leads a life not of his own choosing but another’s, moulding and adapting himself to suit another, is not simple, not one, but variable and many in one, and, like water that is poured into one receptacle after another, he is constantly on the move from place to place, and changes his shape to fit his receiver. The capture of the ape, as it seems, is effected while he is trying to imitate man by moving and dancing as the man does: but the flatterer himself leads on and entices others, not imitating all persons alike, but with one he joins in dancing and singing, and with another in wrestling and getting covered with dust; if he gets hold of a huntsman fond of the chase, he follows on, all but shouting out the words of Phaedra [*]:

Ye gods, but I yearn to encourage the hounds, As I haste on the track of the dapple deer.

He does not trouble himself in regard to the quarry, but he goes about to net and ensnare the huntsman himself. But if he is on the track of a scholarly and studious young man, now again he is absorbed in books, his beard grows down to his feet, the scholar’s gown is the thing now and a stoic indifference, and endless talk about Plato’s numbers and right-angled triangles. At another time, if some easy-tempered man fall in his way, who is a hard drinker and rich,

Then stands forth the wily Odysseus stripped of his tatters;[*]

off goes the scholar’s gown, the beard is mowed down like an unprofitable crop; it’s wine-coolers and glasses now, bursts of laughter while walking in the streets, and frivolous jokes against the devotees of philosophy. Just so at Syracuse, it is said, after Plato had arrived, and an insane ardour for philosophy laid hold on Dionysius, the king’s palace was filled with dust by reason of the multitude of men that were drawing their geometrical diagrams in it: but when Plato fell out of favour, and Dionysius, shaking himself free from philosophy, returned post-haste to wine and women and foolish talk and licentiousness, then grossness and forgetfulness and fatuity seized upon the whole people as though they had undergone a transformation in Circe’s house. A further testimony is to be found in the action of the great flatterers and the demagogues, of whom the greatest was Alcibiades. At Athens he indulged in frivolous jesting, kept a racing-stable, and led a life full of urbanity and agreeable enjoyment; in Lacedaemon he kept his hair cropped close, he wore the coarsest clothing, he bathed in cold water; in Thrace he was a fighter and a hard drinker: but when he came to Tissaphernes, he took to soft living, and luxury, and pretentiousness. So by making himself like to all these people and conforming his way to theirs he tried to conciliate them and win their favour. Not of this type, however, was Epameinondas or Agesilaus, who, although they had to do with a very large number of men and cities and modes of life, yet maintained everywhere their own proper character in dress, conduct, language, and life. So, too, Plato in Syracuse was the same sort of man as in the Academy, and to Dionysius he was the same as to Dion.

The changes of the flatterer, which are like those of a cuttle-fish, may be most easily detected if a man pretends that he is very changeable himself and disapproves the mode of life which he previously approved, and suddenly shows a liking for actions, conduct, or language which used to offend him. For he will see that the flatterer is nowhere constant, has no character of his own, that it is not because of his own feelings that he loves and hates, and rejoices and grieves, but that, like a mirror, he only catches the images of alien feelings, lives and movements. For he is the kind of man, who, if you chance to blame one of your friends before him, will exclaim, You’ve been slow in discovering the man’s character; for my part I took a dislike to him long ago. But if, on the next occasion, you change about again and commend the man, then you may be sure the flatterer will avow that he shares your pleasure and thanks you for the man’s sake, and that he believes in him. If you say that you must adopt some other sort of life, as, for example, by changing from public life to ease and quietness, then he says, Yes, we

ought long ago to have secured release from turmoils and jealousies. But again if you appear to be bent on public activity and speaking, then he chimes in, Your thoughts are worthy of you; ease is a pleasant thing, but it is inglorious and mean. Without more ado we must say to such a man:

Stranger, you seem to me now a different man than aforetime.[*]

I have no use for a friend that shifts about just as I do and nods assent just as I do (for my shadow better performs that function), but I want one that tells the truth as I do, and decides for himself as I do. This is one method, then, of detecting the flatterer;

but here follows a second point of difference which ought to be observed, in his habits of imitation. The true friend is neither an imitator of everything nor ready to commend everything, but only the best things;

His nature ’tis to share not hate but love,

as Sophocles [*] has it, and most assuredly to share also in right conduct and in love for the good, not in error and evil-doing, unless, as a result of association and close acquaintance, an emanation and infection, like that which comes from a diseased eye, contaminate him against his will with a touch of baseness or error. In a similar way it is said that close acquaintances used to copy [*] Plato’s stoop, Aristotle’s lisp, and King Alexander’s twisted neck as well as the harshness of his voice in conversation. In fact, some people unconsciously acquire most of their peculiarities from the traits or the lives of others. But the flatterer’s case is exactly the same as that of the chameleon. For the chameleon can make himself like to every colour except white, and the flatterer, being utterly incapable of making himself like to another in any quality that is really worth while, leaves no shameful thing unimitated; but even as bad painters, who by reason of incompetence are unable to attain to the beautiful, depend upon wrinkles, moles, and scars to bring out their resemblances, so the flatterer makes himself an imitator of licentiousness, superstition, passionate anger, harshness toward servants, and distrust toward household and kinsmen. For by nature he is of himself prone to the worse, and he seems very far removed from disapproving what is shameful, since he imitates it. In fact it is those who follow a higher ideal and show distress and annoyance at the errors of their friends, who fall under suspicion. This is the thing that brought Dion into disfavour with Dionysius, Samius with Philip, Cleomenes with Ptolemy, and finally brought about their undoing. But the flatterer, desiring to be and to seem pleasant and loyal at the same time, affects to take greater delight in the worse things, as one who for the great love he bears will take no offence even at what is base, but feels with his friend and shares his nature in all things. For this reason flatterers will not be denied a share even in the chances of life which happen without our will; but they flatter the sickly by pretending to be afflicted with the same malady, and not to be able to see or hear distinctly if they have to do with those who are dim-sighted or hard of hearing, just as the flatterers of Dionysius, whose sight was failing, used to bump against one another and upset the dishes at dinner. And some seize upon afflictions rather as a means to insinuate themselves still more, and carry their fellow-feeling so far as to include inmost secrets. If they know, for example, that one or another is unfortunate in his marriage, or suspicious towards his sons or his household, they do not spare themselves, but lament over their own children or wife or kinsmen or household, divulging certain secret faults of theirs. For such similarity makes fellow-feeling stronger, so that the others, conceiving themselves to have received pledges, are more inclined to let out some of their own secrets to the flatterers, and having so done they take up with them, and are afraid to abandon the confidential relation. I personally know of one man who put away his wife after his friend had sent his own away; but he was caught visiting her in secret and sending messages to her after his friend’s wife had got wind of what was going on. Quite unacquainted with a flatterer, then, was he who thought that these iambic verses [*] applied to a flatterer rather than to a crab:

His body is all belly; eyes that look All ways; a beast that travels on its teeth.

For such a description is that of a parasite, one of

The saucepan friends and friends postprandial,

as Eupolis [*] puts it.