oad, like
a broken line, with the center worn out, the gravel bed enabled me to
recover it.

The next station upon the Ikenield-street is Birmingham (Bremenium) I
have examined this country with care; but find no vestiges of a station:
nor shall we wonder; dissolation is the preserver of antiquity, nothing
of which reigns here; the most likely place is Wor-ston (Wall-stone)
which a younger brother of Birmingham might afterwards convert into the
fashionable moat of the times, and erect a castle. The next station is
Alcester (Alauna) all which are nearly at equal distances.

In forming these grand roads, a strait direction seems to have been
their leading maxim. Though curiosity has lead me to travel many hundred
miles upon their roads, with the eye of an enquirer, I cannot recollect
one instance, where they ever broke the line to avoid a hill, a swamp, a
rock, or a river.

They were well acquainted with the propriety of an old English adage,
_Once well done is twice done_; an idea new cloathed by Lord
Chesterfield, _If a a thing be worth doing at all, it is worth
doing well_.

For their roads were so durably constructed, that, had they been
appropriated only to the use intended, they might have withstood the
efforts of time, and bid fair for eternity.--Why is this useful art so
lost among the moderns?

When time and intercourse had so far united the Romans and the Britons,
that they approached nearly to one people, the Romans formed, or rather
_improved_, many of the smaller roads; placed stones of intelligence
upon them; hence, London Stone, Stony Stratford (the stone at the
Street-ford) Atherstone, stone (hither, near, or first stone from
Witherly-bridge, a Roman camp) and fixed their stations in the places to
which these roads tended.

The great roads, as observed before, were chiefly appropriated for
military purposes, and instituted in the beginning of their government;
but the smaller were of later date, and designed for common use. As
these came more in practice, there was less occasion for the military;
which, not leading to their towns, were, in process of time, nearly
laid aside.

Antonine, and his numerous train of commentators, have not bestowed that
attention on the roads they deserve: a curious acquaintance with the
roads of a country, brings us acquainted with the manners of the people:
in one, like a mirror, is exactly represented the other. Their state,
like a master key, unlocks many apartment