Did a manufacture ever prosper under a multitude of inspectors, not one of which is to taste the least benefit?

As public business, which admits no profit, such as vestry assemblies, commissions of lamps, turnpike meetings, &c. are thinly attended, even in town; what reason is there to expect a board two miles in the country?

The workhouse may be deemed The Nursery of Birmingham, in which she deposits her infants, for future service:  the unfortunate and the idle, till they can be set upon their own basis; and the decrepid, during the few remaining sands in their glass.  If we therefore carry the workhouse to a distance, whether we shall not interrupt that necessary intercourse which ought to subsist between a mother and her offspring?  As sudden sickness, indications of child-birth, &c. require immediate assistance, a life in extreme danger may chance to be lost by the length of the road.

If we keep the disorderly till they have reimbursed the parish, whether we do not acquire an inheritance for life?

We censure the officer who pursues a phantom at the expence of others; we praise him who teaches the poor to live.

All the evils complained of, may be removed by attention in the man; the remedy is not in an act.  He therefore accuses his own want of application, in soliciting government to do what he might do himself—­Expences are saved by private acts of oeconomy, not by public Acts of Parliament.

It has long been said, think and act; but as our internal legislators chuse to reverse the maxim by fitting up an expensive shop; then seeking a trade to bring in, perhaps they may place over the grand entrance, act and think.

One remark should never be lost sight of, The more we tax the inhabitants, the sooner they leave us, and carry off the trades.

THE CAMP.

I have already remarked, a spirit of bravery is part of the British character.  The perpetual contests for power, among the Britons, the many roads formed by the Romans, to convey their military force, the prodigious number of camps, moats, and broken castles, left us by the Saxons, Danes, and Normans, our common ancestors, indicate a martial temper.  The names of those heroic sovereigns, Edward the Third, and Henry the Fifth, who brought their people to the fields of conquest, descend to posterity with the highest applause, though they brought their kingdom to the brink of ruin; while those quiet princes, Henry the Seventh, and James the First, who cultivated the arts of peace, are but little esteemed, though under their sceptre, England experienced the greatest improvement.—­The man who dare face an enemy, is the most likely to gain a friend.  A nation versed in arms, stands the fairest chance to protect its property, and secure its peace:  war itself may be hurtful, the knowledge of it useful.