In this veteran presence I naturally enter upon this theme with diffidence it is like an old maid trying to teach nursery matters to the mothers in Israel. No high-minded man, no man of right feeling, can contemplate the lumbering and slovenly lying of the present day without grieving to see a noble art so prostituted. My complaint simply concerns the decay of the art of lying. Observe, I do not mean to suggest that the custom of lying has suffered any decay or interruption-no, for the Lie, as a Virtue, A Principle, is eternal the Lie, as a recreation, a solace, a refuge in time of need, the fourth Grace, the tenth Muse, man's best and surest friend, is immortal, and cannot perish from the earth while this club remains. ESSAY, FOR DISCUSSION, READ AT A MEETING OF THE HISTORICAL AND ANTIQUARIAN CLUB OF HARTFORD, AND OFFERED FOR THE THIRTY-DOLLAR PRIZE.
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