The Sooner You Treat Your Son As

The Wretched Have No Friends.

When Beauty Fires The Blood, How Love Exalts The Mind!

Riches Cannot Rescue From The Grave, Which Claims Alike The Monarch And The Slave.

My Hands Are Guilty, But My Heart Is Free.

Let Grace And Goodness Be The Principal Loadstone Of Thy Affections. For Love Which Hath Ends, Will Have An End; Whereas That Which Is Founded On True Virtue, Will Always Continue.