against friendship than to enact our parts in that drama of life which
is to elevate the term. Thus we hear Goldsmith cry--
What is friendship but a name,
A charm that lulls to sleep,
A shade that follows wealth or fame,
And leaves the wretch to weep.
Yet this same Goldsmith was a burden on his friends. He did his duty to
posterity, in leaving them beautiful literature and song, but to his own
associates he was unsparing in his good-natured demands. It is safe to
say that he who tries to ennoble friendship is best worthy of the name
of friend, and he who belittles it, has fewer claims to man's humanity.
Everytime we deny the existence of a satisfying, friendship, we proclaim
aloud our own baseness. Let us avoid it.