He withholdeth no secret from thee, and rejecteth not thine in turn;
He shareth his joys with thee, and is glad to bear part in thy sorrows.
Yet one thing, he loveth thee too well to show thee the corruptions of his heart:
For as an ill example strengthened the hands of the wicked,
So to put forward thy guilt, is a secret poison to thy friend:
For the evil in his nature is comforted, and he warreth more weakly against it,
If he find that the friend whom he honoureth, is a man more sinful than himself.
I hear the communing of friends; ye speak out the fulness of your souls,
And being but men, as men, ye own to all the sympathies of manhood:
Confidence openeth the lips, indulgence beameth from the eye,