Club: An Assembly Of Good Fellows, Meeting

Still We Love The Evil We Do, Until We Suffer It.

To Paint Things As They Are Requires A Minute Attention, And Employs The Memory Rather Than The Fancy.

We Are Easily Shocked By Crimes Which Appear At Once In Their Full Magnitude, But The Gradual Growth Of Our Own Wickedness, Endeared By Interest, And Palliated By All The Artifices Of Self-deceit, Gives Us Time To Form Distinctions In Our Own Favor

It Is, Indeed, At Home That Every Man Must Be Known By Those Who Would Make A Just Estimate Either Of His Virtue Or Felicity; For Smiles And Embroidery Are Alike Occasional, And The Mind Is Often Dressed For Show In Painted Honor, And Fictitious Benevolence.

The Business Of Life Summons Us Away From Useless Grief, And Calls Us To The Exercise Of Those Virtues Of Which We Are Lamenting Our Deprivation.