Vanity Is So Frequently The Apparent Motive

Club: An Assembly Of Good Fellows, Meeting Under Certain Conditions.

A Ship Is Worse Than A Gaol. There Is, In A Gaol, Better Air, Better Company, Better Conveniency Of Every Kind; And A Ship Has The Additional Disadvantage Of Of Being In Danger.

These Are The Men Who, Without Virtue, Labour, Or Hazard, Are Growing Rich, As Their Country Is Impoverished; They Rejoice, When Obstinacy Or Ambition Adds Another Year To Slaughter And Devastation; And Laugh, From Their Desks, At Bravery And Science, While They Are Adding Figure To Figure, And Cipher To Cipher, Hoping For A New Contract From A New Armament, And Computing The Profits Of A Siege Or Tempest.

My Dear Friend, Clear Your Mind Of Can't.

His Virtues Walked Their Narrow Round, Nor Made A Pause, Nor Left A Void; And Sure The Eternal Master Found The Single Talent Well Employed.