besides, it is well known that in the first ages of the world, the pagan deities were represented by huge stones, before which sacrifices were offered, and to which divine homage was paid.

These authorities favour my opinion that the ancient pillars at Boroughbridge were neither the work of the Romans, nor used as metæ, but that they were erected by the people, and intended for the purposes to which I have assigned them;-an opinion however, which, if erroneous, I shall be happy to correct.

Wakefield, 8th April, 1818.

I am, your obedient servant,

S. I. LAW.

History of Trades and Manufactures.

HISTORY OF THE ALUM-TRADE.

[Concluded from p.192.]

PROGRESS and present State of the Alum-Trade.-While the pope's monopoly lasted, the price of alum was exorbitant and it is said, that, just before the introduction of the alum-making into England, the price, which had usually been 2 marks per cwt., rose to 4 marks per cwt. or £53 6s. 8d. per ton. The establishment of the alum-works near Guisborough speedily reduced the price more than one half, a reduction which dissipated the golden dreams of eager speculators, especially as the imperfections of the art materially injured the profits of the trade. As a proof of the unskilful manner in which the works were then conducted, it is sufficient to remark, that while labour, coals, wood, and all things necessary for the manufacture of alum cost less than one-half, or perhaps one-third, of the present rate, the proprietors could not afford to sell the alum so low as £20 or £21 per ton, which is nearly the present price: and we are told, that in 1612, when alum exceeded that price, the proprietors found themselves £200 out of pocket. Instead of engrossing the foreign trade, the English manufacturers could not even secure the home-trade without obtaining from king James an order prohibiting the importation of alum. About that time, the alum-business was engrossed by the king, as a royal prerogative; and the alum-works were let on a lease from the crown, a compensation being paid to the proprietors.

In the reign of Charles I. the royal monopoly still continued; and, the process of alum-making being much improved, the trade became so lucrative, that Sir Paul Pindar, who rented the alum-works, paid annually to the king, £12,500.; to the Earl of Mulgrave, £1640.; and to Sir Wm. Pennyman, £600. He employed 800 workmen, and sold his alum at £26 per ton. The monopoly ceased at the death of Charles I. when the business was left free to all who had alum-rock in their estates.

The progress of manufactures and commerce during the commonwealth, hat era of enterprise, naturally caused a proportionate briskness in the

alum-trade. Hence, at this period, and within a few years after, several new works were set on foot; by which means the markets were at last overstocked, and the prices reduced. Some years after the beginning of the last century, when the profits of the trade were low, an attempt was made by the duke of Buckingham to secure a monopoly of the alum-trade, by making an agreement with other proprietors of alum-works, binding them to lay down their works for 21 years, in consideration of his paying each of them an annual stipulated sum. In terms of this agreement, Sir G. Cooke received £430 per annum, as a composition for laying down Peak works; Godrington Pressick, Esq. £400 for laying down Carleton works; Hugh Cholmley, Esq. £220, for laying down Saltwick works, &c. The price was then greatly advanced, but the monopoly could not be maintained; for, besides the competition of foreign traders, occasioned by the high prices, new works began to start up on every side, till the expense of buying them off exceeded the profits produced by the advance of price. Alum, therefore, again fell, and in 1736 it was only £10. per ton, and even lower. At this date, only four works were continued, and, in order to improve the alummarket, the proprietors agreed to limit the quantity annually made at each, as follows:-Sandsend, 520 tons; Lofthouse, 420; Boulby, 320; and Carleton, 240; in all 1500 tons. In consequence of this agreement, alum rose to £12 per ton in 1740, to £13 in 1742, and to £14 in 1746.

In proportion as the markets rose, new works were opened, or old works were revived; by which means the price was reduced, in 1756, to £12.; and in 1760, to £11.: but the peace of 1763 produced a rapid rise; so that at the close of 1764, alum was from £20 to £22 per ton; and, in 1765, it reached £24, and even £26. The manufacture now went on with great briskness, and, in 1764, 10 different works were carried on at once, employing no less than 40 pans; viz. Peak, 4 pans; Stoupe Brow, 4; Saltwick, 3; Littlebeck, 3; Sandsend, 6; Boulby, 4; Lofthouse, 6; Carleton, 3; Osmotherley, 3; and Pleasington, in Lancashire, 4. The annual produce, estimated at 80 tons for each pan, would amount to 3200 tons ; an estimation which is probably much below the truth. Within 3 or 4 years, 6 alum-works were added to the list; 3 of which, viz. Godeland Banks, Eskdaleside, and Ayton, were new works; and the other 3, viz. Saltburn, Kettleness, and Guisborough, were old works revived. Hence, in 1769, not less than 16 works were going forward, employing about 60 pans, which might yield an annual produce of 5000 tons, or upwards. The business had now reached its utmost height; the prices declined, in proportion as the market became over-stocked; and though in 1767, £20 per ton had been obtained, the price fell to £14 in 1769, and to £13 in 1770 and 1771. In the anticipation of this ruinous fall, an attempt was made, in 1769, to form a mutual agreement between the proprietors, limiting the number of pans at each work, so as the whole might not exceed 40, and the annual produce might be fixed at about 3200 tons; but, for want of unanimity among the parties concerned, the scheme did not take effect, and the depression therefore continued, till, through the bankruptcy of some proprietors, and the serious losses of others, the works at Ayton, Godeland Banks, Carleton, Osmotherley, Saltburn, and Pleasington, were successively stopped.

This diminution of the number of works, with some reduction at the remaining works, brought down the quantity annually manufactured to about 3000 tons; yet the price was little improved till after the close of the American war, when it rose to £22, but it afterwards dropped to £18; which was the price in 1789 and 1790. Since that time, considerable fluctuations have taken place: about the beginning of this century, alum rose to £26 and even £27 per ton, but it fell again to £20; and, on the whole, the trade has never been so brisk as to encourage the erection or restoration of other works: on the contrary, the works at Saltwick, Guisborough, Godeland-Banks, and Little Beck, have been given up. The price was lately £23; at present it can scarcely be quoted at more than £20. This price would have been reckoned good, thirty years ago, when labour, coals, &c. were onethird cheaper; but, as circumstances now are, the price could not remunerate the manufacturer, were it not that the recent improvements in alummaking furnish a greater produce from the same quantity of materi Is.

The present state of the manufacture may be seen from the following table, exhibiting the annual produce of the works now carried on, estimated on an average of the last 12 years:

In the last two or three years, the quantity has greatly exceeded this ave rage, at least the quantity shipped; for the alum shipped in 1815 amounted to 3077 tons, and in 1816, to 3155 tons. Little is exported to foreign parts, nearly the whole being sent to London; yet in former times the exportation was considerable, amounting in 1790 to 1232 tons.

The number of the workmen employed varies according to circumstances; but the whole number now belonging to the works, including boys and artificers, may be estimated at about 600. Their wages seldom exceed 3s. per day; but they enjoy, in addition, several valuable privileges, among which, a little garden assigned to each family, deserves to be noticed. Earl Mulgrave has distinguished himself in making provision for the comfort of his workmen.

LI

HOURS AFTER TEA.

No. III.

Innumerabilis

Annorum series, et fuga temporum,-Hox.

HORACE in one of his odes says to his friend, "Quid sit futurum cras, fuge querere "— Avoid prying into the events of to-morrow. However proper this advice may be on many occasions, with regard to our private concerns, we need not suffer it to check any speculations as to the future condition of the world, in which we may feel inclined to indulge. A sagaeious philosopher long since remarked, with how much greater certainty we might draw conclusions concerning general than particular affairs, about the course and proceedings of mankind at large, than the actions and fortunes of individuals; and perhaps few of those who have reflected on the career of the human race in past times, have been able to resist the inducement thus presented to carry their imaginations forward to its probable destination in ages yet to come. In the history of the past, nothing is more striking than the circumstance of nations alternately rising into civilisation, and sinking into ignorance. After we have contemplated their arts, their sciences, their luxury, and their pride, what a contrast are we called to witness!

The blast of desolation has swept all these distinctions away, and we perceive nothing in their stead but the profoundest ignorance, the darkest superstition, and the most lifeless apathy. The embellishments of life have withered into wretchedness and gloom; and men whose eyes beamed with intellectual animation, and whose lips poured the strain of poetry and of eloquence, are replaced by a race in whose stupid sluggishness or brutal ferocity we look in vain for the least traces of their illustrious ancestors. Yet such has been the melancholy fate of every nation of antiquity at all celebrated for its civilisation. Not a single spot of earth, once illuminated by the rays of knowledge, has escaped the refluent darkness; not a country which has been the mother of heroes and sages, but, at a subsequent period, has produced a degenerate progeny of boors and barbarians.

Struck with this generalfate, many have concluded it to be a law of nature that nations should be the sport of alternate barbarism and civilisation. Who knows, they exclaim, but at some future period, the most enlightened nations of Europe may exhibit the same examples of the instability of refinement which Greece or Arabia presents at this moment? That broad blaze of illumination which now rests upon them, may hereafter shift to other lands. The recesses of South-America or New-Holland may teem with a race possessing languages, thoughts, arts, and manners, different from ours, who shall visit Europe with a curiosity similar to that which sends us to the ruins of Athens or Palmyra, and feel the same affecting sensations at the mutability of human grandeur, while gazing on the desolate temples of England, which we experience while hanging in pensive meditation over the mouldering vestiges of Rome. Philosophers, however, are now pretty generally agreed

that in these anticipations there is little rational probability. The causes which formerly produced such disastrous results can no longer come into operation. Many distinguishing features in modern civilisation impress it with the character of permanency, and inspire a confident expectation that the future march of improvement, however slow, will be certain. The art of printing alone seems to have put any retrograde movement beyond the sphere of possibility. Libraries may be burnt and manuscripts lost, but such events can no longer affect the substantial stock of human science. Formerly, indeed, these were irremediable disasters, and the accumulated knowledge of ages might perish in an hour. In our days we may regard the records of literature and science as virtually indestructible. The invaluable invention which gives this security to our attainments, and presents the most striking point of dissimilarity between ancient and modern civilisation, has, however, been at work but a comparatively short period. It is a powerful engine, and a contemplation of its probable effects, which can as yet be but faintly appreciated, opens to the mind prospects of interminable extent. If, as we may rationally expect, literature should continue to proceed with as much rapidity as it has done in the last two or three centuries, books will be multiplied to an almost incalculable number. In the interval which has already elapsed since the introduction of printing, tens of thousands of volumes have been given to the world, and every year hundreds upon hundreds are issuing from the press hundreds more are in preparation, and as knowledge is dif fused, more authors are pressing forward to share the glory and the gain of literary exertion.

The imagination is started by this vast accumulation of intellectual productions, and we can scarcely help thinking, that, at some future period, mankind will have no small difficulty in sustaining the load thus imposed on their understandings; that they will begin to repine at the invention which has occasioned it, and sigh for the days of Vandal conflagrations, when the flame of a taper consigned whole hecatombs of authors to forgetfulness, and delivered the imaginations of men from an oppressive burden of accumulated genius.

One is naturally led to ask how this evil is to be remedied. What limits are there to this inundation of books? What provision has nature made to preserve the human mind from distraction? Amidst such endless multiplicity, how is it to compare, appreciate, and select?

With respect to works of science, the answer is easy, as the provision is obvious. In the progress of a science, the books upon it, however able they may be, successively grow obsolete. The discoveries which they contain, although the fruits of the profoundest research on the part of their authors, become in time the first principles from which their successors start in pursuit of fresh acquisitions. Thus a masterly work, which has extended the boundaries of any department of knowledge, supersedes in a great measure all others which have gone before it, and, at some future time, is itself superseded by new discoveries. However numerous, therefore, the writers who have been concerned in bringing the science to its present state, it will in general be sufficient for the purpose of obtaining a competent knowledge of it, if the student reads a few of the more recent