ABSTRACT
Oh, you gods, (think I,) what need we have any friends, if we should never have need of ’em ? they would most resemble sweet instruments hung up in cases, that keep their sounds to themselves. Why, I have often wish'd myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you : we are born to do benefits. And what better or properer can we call our own, than the riches of our friends ? O, what a precious comfort ’tis to have so many, like brothers, commanding one another's fortunes ?
