'Remembering the verses that Hayley sung
When my heart knocked against the roof of my tongue,'
Blake wrote down bitter epigrams, which were written down for mere relief of mind, and certainly never intended for publication; and I can see no contradiction between these inner revolts and an outer politeness which had in it its due measure of gratitude. Both were strictly true, and only in a weak and foolish nature can the consciousness of kindness received distract or blot out the consciousness of the intellectual imbecility which may lurk behind it. Blake said:
'I never made friends but by spiritual gifts,
By severe contentions of friendship and the burning fire of thought.'
What least 'contention of friendship' would not have been too much for the 'triumphs of temper' of 'Felpham's eldest son'? what 'fire of thought' could ever have enlightened his comfortable darkness? And is it surprising that Blake should have written in final desperation:
'Thy friendship oft has made my heart to ache:
Do be my enemy—for friendship's sake'?
