To The Old, Long Life And Treasure;

Chance Will Not Do The Work. Chance Sends The Breeze; But If The Pilot Slumber At The Helm, The Very Wind That Wafts Us Tow'rds The Port May Dash Us On The Shoals. The Steersman's Part Is Vigilance, Or Blow It Rough Or Smooth.

Minds That Are Great And Free, Should Not On Fortune Pause: 'tis Crown Enough To Virtue Still, Her Own Applause.

He Threatens Many That Hath Injured One.

Greatness Of Name, In The Father, Ofttimes Helps Not Forth, But Overwhelms The Son: They Stand Too Near One Another. The Shadow Kills The Growth.

Honor's A Good Brooch To Wear In A Man's Hat At All Times.