Westbury, A Nasty Odious Rotten-borough,

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.

All My Plans In Private Life; All My Pursuits; All My Designs, Wishes, And Thoughts, Have This One Great Object In View: The Overthrow Of The Ruffian Boroughmongers. If I Write Grammars; If I Write On Agriculture; If I Sow, Plant, Or Deal In Seeds; Whatever I Do Has First In View The Destruction Of Those Infamous Tyrants.

Women Are A Sisterhood. They Make Common Cause In Behalf Of The Sex; And, Indeed, This Is Natural Enough, When We Consider The Vast Power That The Law Gives Us Over Them.

To Be Poor And Independent Is Very Nearly An Impossibility.