om the heart, otherwise order would
cease. Without the desire of riches, a man would not preserve what he
has, nor provide for the future. "My thoughts," says a worthy christian,
"are not of this world; I desire but one guinea to carry me through it."
Supply him with that guinea, and he wishes another, lest the first
should be defective.

If it is necessary a man mould possess property, it is just as necessary
he should possess a power to protect it, or the world would quickly
bully him out of it: this power is founded on the laws of his country,
to which he adds, by way of supplement, bye-laws, founded upon his own
prudence. Those who possess riches, well know they are furnished with
wings, and can scarcely be kept from flying.

The man who has power to secure his wealth, seldom stops there; he, in
turn, is apt to triumph over him who has less. Riches and power are
often seen to go hand in hand.

Industry produces property; which, when a little matured, looks out for
command; thus the inhabitants of Birmingham, who have generally
something upon the anvil besides iron, near seventy years ago having
derived wealth from diligence, wished to derive power from charter;
therefore, petitioned the crown that Birmingham might be erected into a
corporation. Tickled with the title of alderman, dazzled with the
splendour of a silver mace, a furred gown, and a magisterial chair, they
could not see the interest of the place: had they succeeded, that
amazing growth would have been crippled, which has since astonished the
world, and those trades have been fettered which have proved the
greatest benefit.

When a man loudly pleads for public good, we shrewdly suspect a private
emolument lurking beneath. There is nothing more detrimental to good
neighbourhood, than men in power, where power is unnecessary: free as
the air we breathe, we subsist by our freedom; no command is exercised
among us, but that of the laws, to which every discreet citizen pays
attention--the magistrate who distributes justice, tinctured with mercy,
merits the thanks of society. A train of attendants, a white wand, and a
few fiddles, are only the fringe, lace, and trappings of
charteral office.

Birmingham, exclusive of her market, ranks among the very lowest order
of townships; every petty village claims the honour of being a
constable-wick--we are no more. Our immunities are only the trifling
privileges anciently granted to the lords; and two thirds of the