First Part · XIV. The Friend

The friend as the cork on the depth

“One, is always too many about me”—thinketh the anchorite. “Always once one—that maketh two in the long run!”

I and me are always too earnestly in conversation: how could it be endured, if there were not a friend?

The friend of the anchorite is always the third one: the third one is the cork which preventeth the conversation of the two sinking into the depth.

Ah! there are too many depths for all anchorites. Therefore, do they long so much for a friend, and for his elevation.

Our faith in others betrayeth wherein we would fain have faith in ourselves. Our longing for a friend is our betrayer.

The anchorite finds one always too many, since I and me soon make two. The friend is the cork that keeps their talk afloat, and our longing for a friend betrays our lack of faith in ourselves.

SolitudeThe anchorite's conversation of 'I and me' grows too deep to endure, so the solitary longs for a third.
Friendship, neighbour-love and love of the farthestThe friend is the third who keeps the two from sinking, and the longing for him betrays what we lack in ourselves.