It Is Sheer Folly When All Is

The Care Of A Large Estate Is An Unpleasant Thing.

O Poverty, Thy Thousand Ills Combined Sink Not So Deep Into The Generous Mind, As The Contempt And Laughter Of Mankind.

Refrain From Doing Ill; For One All Powerful Reason, Lest Our Children Should Copy Our Misdeeds; We Are All Too Prone To Imitate Whatever Is Base And Depraved.

But Who Guards The Guardians?

The Noiseless Foot Of Tune Steals Swiftly By And Ere We Dream Of Manhood, Age Is Nigh.