reader some account of the philosopher who hid this treasure, and took so much pains to find a true and real friend to enjoy it. As Tom had reason to venerate his memory, he was very particular in his inquiry, and had this character of him: That he was a man well acquainted with nature and with trade; that he was pious, friendly, and of a sweet and affable disposition; that he had acquired a fortune by commerce, and having no relation to leave it to, he travelled through Arabia, Persia, India, Lybia, and Utopia, in search of a real friend. In this pursuit he found several, with whom he had exchanged good offices, and who were polite and obliging; but they often flew off for trifles, or as soon as he pretended to be in distress, and requested their assistance, had left him to struggle with his own difficulties. So true is that copy in our books, which says, “Adversity is the touchstone of friendship.”

At last, however, he met in with the Utopian Philosopher, or the Wise Man of the Mountain, as he is called, and thought in him he had found

the friend he wanted; for though he had often pretended to be in distress, and abandoned to the frowns of fortune, this man always relieved him, and with such chearfulness and sincerity, that concluding he had found out the only man to whom he ought to open both his purse and his heart, he let him so far into his secrets, as to desire his assistance in hiding a large sum of money, which he wanted to conceal, lest the prince of the country, who was absolute, should, by the advice of his wicked minister, put him to death for his gold. The two philosophers met and hid the money, which the stranger, after some days, went to see, but found it gone. How was he struck to the heart, when he found that his friend, whom he had often tried, and who had relieved him in his distress, could not withstand this temptation, but broke through the sacred bonds of friendship, and turned even a thief for gold which he did not want, as he was already very rich! “Oh!” said he, “what is the heart of man made of? Why am I condemned to live

among people who have no sincerity, and barter the most sacred ties of friendship and humanity for the dirt that we tread on? Had I lost my gold, and found a real friend, I should have been happy with the exchange, but now I am most miserable.” After some time he wiped off his tears, and being determined not to be so imposed on, he had recourse to cunning and the arts of life. He went to his pretended friend with a chearful countenance, told him he had more gold to hide, and desired him to appoint a time when they might go together and open the earth, to put it into the same pot; the other, in hopes of getting more wealth, appointed the next evening. They went together upon the ground, and found the money they had first placed there, for the artful wretch he so much confided in, had conveyed it again into the pot, in order to obtain more. Our philosopher immediately took the gold, and putting it into his pocket, told the other he had now altered his mind, and should bury it no more, till he

found a man more worthy of his confidence. See what people lose by being dishonest!

Remember this story, and take care whom you trust; but do not be covetous, sordid, and miserable; for the gold we have, is but lent us to do good with. We receive all from the hand of God, and every person in distress hath a just title to a portion of it.

FINIS.