The Very Hirelings Of The Press, Whose

Norwich Is A Very Fine City, And The Castle, Which Stands In The Middle Of It, On A Hill, Is Truly Majestic.

To Suppose Such A Thing Possible As A Society, In Which Men, Who Are Able And Willing To Work, Cannot Support Their Families, And Ought, With A Great Part Of The Women, To Be Compelled To Lead A Life Of Celibacy, For Fear Of Having Children To Be Starved; To Suppose Such A Thing Possible Is Monstrous.

Praise The Child, And You Make Love To The Mother.

Having Still In My Recollection So Many Excellent Men, To Whose Grandfathers, Upon The Same Spots, My Grandfather Had Yielded Cheerful Obedience And Reverence, It Is Not Without Sincere Sorrow That I Have Beheld Many Of The Sons Of These Men Driven From Their Fathers' Mansions, Or Holding Them As Little Better Than Tenants Or Stewards, While The Swarms Of Placemen, Pensioners, Contractors, And Nabobs... Have Usurped A Large Part Of The Soil.

The Very Hirelings Of The Press, Whose Trade It Is To Buoy Up The Spirits Of The People... Have Uttered Falsehoods So Long, They Have Played Off So Many Tricks, That Their Budget Seems, At Last, To Be Quite Empty.