It is happy for the world, that public interest is grafted upon private, and that both flourish together.

This grand work, like other productions of Birmingham birth, was rather hasty; the managers, not being able to find patience to worm round the hill at Smethwick, or cut through, have wisely travelled over it by the help of twelve locks, with six they mount the summit, and with six more descend to the former level; forgetting the great waste of water, and the small supply from the rivulets, and also, the amazing loss of of time in climbing this curious ladder, consisting of twelve liquid steps.  It is worthy of remark, that the level of the earth, is nearly the same at Birmingham as at the pits:  what benefit then would accrue to commerce, could the boats travel a dead flat of fourteen miles without interruption?  The use of the canal would increase, great variety of goods be brought which are now excluded, and these delivered with more expedition, with less expence, and the waste of water never felt; but, by the introduction of twelve unnecessary locks, the company may experience five plagues more than fell on Egypt.

The boats are nearly alike, constructed to fit the locks, carry about twenty-five tons, and are each drawn by something like the skeleton of a horse, covered with skin:  whether he subsists upon the scent of the water, is a doubt; but whether his life is a scene of affliction, is not; for the unfeeling driver has no employment but to whip him from one end of the canal to the other.  While the teams practised the turnpike road, the lash was divided among five unfortunate animals, but now the whole wrath of the driver falls upon one.

We can scarcely view a boat travelling this liquid road, without raising opposite sensations—­pleased to think of its great benefit to the community, and grieved to behold wanton punishment.

I see a large field of cruelty expanding before me, which I could easily prevail with myself to enter; in which we behold the child plucking a wing and a leg off a fly, to try how the poor insect can perform with half his limbs; or running a pin through the posteriors of a locust, to observe it spinning through the air, like a comet, drawing a tail of thread.  If we allow, man has a right to destroy noxious animals, we cannot allow he has a right to protract their pain by a lingering death.  By fine gradations the modes of cruelty improve with years, in pinching the tail of a cat for the music of her voice, kicking a dog because we have trod upon his foot, or hanging him for fun, ’till we arrive at the priests in the church of Rome, who burnt people for opinion; or to the painter, who begged the life of a criminal, that he might torture him to death with the severest pangs, to catch the agonizing feature, and transfer it into his favourite piece, of a dying Saviour.  But did that Saviour teach such doctrine?  Humanity would wish rather to have lost the piece, than have heard of the cruelty.  What, if the injured ghost of the criminal is at this moment torturing that of the painter?—­