e instrument which
is death to one man, is genteel life to another.

LEATHER.

It may seem singular to a modern eye, to view this place in the light of
one vast tan-yard.--Though there is no appearance of that necessary
article among us, yet Birmingham was once a famous market for leather.
Digbeth not only abounded with tanners, but large numbers of hides
arrived weekly for sale, where the whole country found a supply. When
the weather would allow, they were ranged in columns in the High-street,
and at other times deposited in the Leather-hall, at the East end of
New-street, appropriated for their reception.

This market was of great antiquity, perhaps not less than seven hundred
years, and continued till the beginning of the present century. We have
two officers, annually chosen, by the name of _leather-sealers_, from a
power given them by ancient charter, to mark the vendible hides; but now
the leather-sealers have no duty, but that of taking an elegant dinner.
Shops are erected upon tan-fats; the Leather-hall is gone to
destruction, and we are reduced to one solitary tanner.

STEEL.

The progress of the arts, is equal to the progress of time; they began,
and will end together. Though some of both are lost, yet they both
accumulate.

The manufacture of iron, in Birmingham, is ancient beyond research; that
of steel is of modern date.

Pride is inseparable from the human character, the man without it, is
the man without breath: we trace it in various forms, through every
degree of people; but like those objects about us, it is best
discovered in our own sphere; those above, and those below us, rather
escape our notice; envy attacks an equal.

Pride induced the Pope to look with contempt on the European Princes,
and now induces them to return the compliment; it taught insolence to
the Spaniard, selfishness to the Dutch; it teaches the rival nations of
France and England to contend for power.

Pride preserves a man from mean actions, it throws him upon meaner; it
whets the sword for destruction; it urges the laudable acts of humanity;
it is the universal hinge on which we move; it glides the gentle stream
of usefulness, it overflows the mounds of reason, and swells into a
destructive flood; like the sun, in his milder rays, it animates and
draws us towards perfection; but, like him, in his fiercer beams, it
scorches and destroys.

Money is not the necessary attendant of pride, for it abounds no where