Great Men Are The Guideposts And Landmarks

The Wisdom Of Our Ancestors.

Because Half A Dozen Grasshoppers Under A Fern Make The Field Ring With Their Importunate Chink, Whilst Thousands Of Great Cattle, Reposed Beneath The Shadow Of The British Oak, Chew The Cud And Are Silent, Pray, To Not Imagine That Those Who Make The Noise Are The Only Inhabitants Of The Field; That, Of Course, They Are Many In Number; Or That, After All, They Are Other Than The Little, Shriveled, Meagre, Hopping, Though Loud And Troublesome Insects Of The Hour.

And Having Looked To Government For Bread, On The Very First Scarcity They Will Turn And Bite The Hand That Fed Them.

Make The Revolution A Parent Of Settlement, And Not A Nursery Of Future Revolutions.

My Vigour Relents. I Pardon Something To The Spirit Of Liberty.