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form!/ against ns, and the circulating medium debased, until it has fallen to an alarming discount. Tlie true remedy would be to diminish the issue of Bank of England notes, and oblige the Bank gradually to resume payments in gold. But this ill accords with the necessity ul the moment, aod the evil is continually aggravated by fresh issues of pnper. Were the Bank of England to withhold discounting, what would become of their dependentsr if they continue to inundate the land with paper, what will become of the country!

The scarcity of silver coins for change is very great, both in town and country. Government are far from affording sufficient relief by a new coinage, and they hang those unfortunate wretches who attempt to supply the deficiency. August 7, IdlO. Plain Dealing.


For the Monthly Magazine.

LETTER I.—To a Fritei.

AM seated to give you a brief account of Buxton, and its environs, where! passed a month, in a. more pleasurable manner than many of the preceding ones, and found my health and spirits considerably benefited by the use of the waters, the change of air and scene, end a less frequent recurrence to circumstances, that yet too often, for my peace of. mind, steal o'er my memory, and proclaim that "such things were, and were roost dear;" while they confirm the feeling "of joys departed never to return—how painful the remembrance!" But " away with melancholy,** and a subject I must not permit my pen to dwell upon, lest I should e^otize too far, and in the recollection of my private sorrows, forget poor Button, the Peak, and all the celebrated ltnnders of Derbyshire.

To an admirer of mixed societies, such a place as Buxton cannot fail of being agreeable, and I own myself by no means an enemy to, nn occasional visit to places of a similar kind; though, in justice to that of which I am about to treat, it is one of the most agreeable of our . watering-places (that is to say, to a person not desirous of figuring as a first-rate da\kr in the circles of extravagance and frivolity), being much h«sexpensive than otheis, having the advantage of a nemer vicinity to the capital, and possessing Uiuiy more comforts and conveniences than a nun,her t,{ the fashionable Lathing and marine resorts.

An there are several lnrge hotels, with

other boarding and lodging-houses in tl.e town, visitors of every class may he accommodated witlf good apartments, and plentifully served tables, according to their ranks and inclinations; in each of these hotels, or inns, a commodious room being appropriated for the general use of all who assemble at the public table, or who dj not cliuse to engage private lodgings, and have their victuals served in their own rooms. Many there are who even have a parlour, or sittingroom, who prefer joining the company at dinner and supper, where many agree* able acquaintances have been formed, and intimacies contracted, which have ultimately produced connections of the> closest nature. At these tables the utmost decorum prevails. The viands are excellent and well-served; the charges fixed at a certain rate, and very moderate: and every person at liberty to chuse their own liquor, and make use of what quantity may be agreeable, without being subject to the insolence of waiters, Qr the remarks of any of the other guests. As there is no common market at Buxton, families never carry an establishment of domestics beyond what are re. quired for attendance on themselves, or horses. If they did, provisions could not be procured for them; every article of living being supplied to their particular customers by the different,venders, and generally brought from a considerable distance, as the adjacent country affords little for the support of any animals, bipeds or quadrupeds. Fruit and vegetables are, however, to be had in abundance, and in general good of their kinds; though very high-priced.

The principal part of Buxton is situ, ated near the warm springs in a valley encircled by high bleak hills, and is built of a beautiful stone resembling in colour that at Bath, receiving as good a polish, and being also of a soft nature, till exposed sometime in the open air, is easily cut into any form for ornament or use. The Crescent is a noble edilice, but placed too low to he seen to good advantage. It, was erected, as likewise the baths,- the stables, and other buildings, by the pro. phetor of much of the surrounding country, the present duke of Devonshire, who is reported to have laid out upwards of an hundred and fifty thousand'pounds in buildings and other improvements at Buxton, from which he draws but a very low interest for his money.

In the front of the Crescent, which is really a spacious and truly elegant piece of architecture, thero is- a free piazza


that affords convenience during rainy

weather or intense heat, the invalids

being able to walk there, secure from wet

or heat; while they reap the additional

benefit of the well and baths, which are

both adjoining to the Crescent, aud the

Old-hall, a large hoarding-house, formerly

the only one of repute at Buxton, but

now not more frequented than many

others in the Crescent, and its vicinity.

The Itoyal Hotel forms one corner of the

building, and contains, besides a number

of good apartments, a spacious ball-room,

fined up and finished in a style of peculiar taste, neatness, and elegance, and

universally admired by all who enter it,

either for dancing, or during the performance of divine service, on Sunday

mornings; the parish-church being small,

•nd at too great a distance to be con. veniently attended by the greatest number of the invalids. The other corner

bouse is called the St. Ann's Hotel, from

its proximity to the well, thus named in

bonour of its patron saint. It is also a

commodious and spacious building, and

usually resorted to by strangers of respectability and distinction. The inter'mediate houses are for lodgings and

shops; a library, and news-room, to

which both ladies and gentlemen sub.

scribe, and where there is a plentiful

supply of diurnal and provincial prints.

The well, covered over by a neat stone

edifice, is in front of the Crescent, and

the water is served by several women

appointed for that purpose, who are paid

a trifle by those who drink at the fountain, previous to quitting Buxton.

'J he stables are built in the form of a

circus, and are at a little distance from

the Crescent, on the opposite bank of a

small rivulet. They are likewise commodious aud extensive; collonaded round

the inside, for the convenience of the

grooms in wet weather, and in the centre

there is a spacious ride. The pillars

which support these arches, are about

ten feet in height, and formed each of

one solid stone. The coacli-houses are

on an extensive scale, a little detached

from the stables, and are said to contain

about three-score carriages. The whole

building indeed is admirably planned

•nd executed, and the public are greatly

indebted to the taste of the architect, as

to the munificence of the noble propri, etor. There are several good inns and

lodging-houses in the upper part of the

town, with a number of inferior board.

jog-houses, generally crouded with per

6'nis in the less elegant walksof life, who

resort thither for amusement and health,

from the different populous nimmfiictur.

ing towns in Lancashire, and the west riding of the county of York. There are several shops in the place stocked with articles of dress of all descriptions. A small commodious theatre is usually well filled by a genteel audience, three evenings in every week during the season, and the performances are oftentimes by no means indifferently presented. Three evenings in the week there are also balls at the rooms, and in the mornings and afternoons the public walks and rides are thronged with carriages, persons on horse-buck, and parlies of gay pedestrians, whose appearance altogether must produce a striking effect upon a stranger, who, after travelling several hours, (as he must necessarily do, come which way be will) over moors and sterile heights, suddenly advances within view of this sequestered spot, rendered gay and lively in its appearance by its stately buildings, and its showy, dashing, lemporury, inhabitants.

Buxton was famous for its baths, even in the time of the Romans; and it continues to be much frequented, on t|ie score of both health and amusement. The water is sulphureous and saline, but extremely palatable; and if drank in miideration, is efficacious in bilious, gravelish, and gouty complaints; as the baths are likewise in cases of rheumatic, and paralytic affections. Of the Derbyshire wonders, as they are usunlly termed, you, tell me in your last letter you have heard so much, that your curiosity is quite afloat to have my description of them. I fear, however, you will, meet only disappointment, if you have raised vour eK. pectation* of these wonders so very high or have cherished the idea, that from me you will receive romantic flowery descriptions of places, such as were Tout afterwards to visit, you would find -fall far short of what you had been led to imagine. The talent of embellishing does not fall to my share; nor should? conceive myself justified'in sending, you accounts of scenes and objects widely differing from the reality, in order to adorn my narrative by high-sounding; expressions^ or romantic images. A plain unvarnished detail of occurrences and of scenes, is all you must expect from me; and as I cannot give a surer proof of my intentions, than by sending you a short account of my visit to Poole's Holt, a celebrated cavern in the vicinity of Buxton, I will conclude my letter by* . the few words I have to say on that subject, and reserve for a future epistle my excursion to the Peak mid other places, in the neighbourhood.

Poole's Hole is a natural excavation underneath an hill, about halt' a mile from Buxton, into which the curious visitor i» conducted by some hideous-looking old women, with farthing candles stuck betwixt their fingers, and when the pule lights gleam on their haggard countenances and tattered garments, they really appear most disgusting figures, "so withered and so wild," that even the witches of Macbeth might be accounted beautiful upon comparison. This dark and dismal cavern is reported to have been the abode or hiding-place oka noted robber, of the name of Poole, who must have lived many centuries ago, and whose rocky bed, parlour, and kitchen, widely differing from the luxuries and conveniences of modern times, ate pointed nut to observation; as like-v wise an huge column of rock, called the Queen of Scot's Pillar, in honour of that unfortunate princess, who visited this cavern on the way to her confinement at Chatsworth, a seat of the duke of Devonshire, and distant from Buxton about sixteen miles.

Though the entrance to Poolo's Hale is low and inconvenient, it is yet visited by all the gay and fine-dressed folks who resort to its neighbouring baths; but I bare rarely seen any person who appeared to be much gratified by a view of its dismal recesses, or thought themselves repaid for the trouble of exploring its damp unwholesome cavities, by any thing they saw it) them. The various colours of the spar, or congealed waters, that hang on the roof and sides, are seen to great advantage from the exclusion of external light, and the uncertain blinking of the pitiful luminaries within. In admiring these, one may however pay dear for the gratification of his curiosity, as they may chance to have a tumble and a severe bruise in consequence, from the slipperiness of the rocks, which are constantly moist by the wet droppings from the roof; and it behoves the admirer therefore to take good heed to his ways, ere he ventures to look around upon the beauties of the place, if, in fact, he can discover any in this chilling region, where 1 was benumbed with cold and damp, and with pleasure hailed a return to the scinching rays of the sun, in one of the warmest days in June. This cave is said to be about half a mile in length; but I am of opinion it is not so much. It is also said that it communicates with other caves, at many miles distant, but this too I imagine is an exalteration; for the guides took me, and fh« person who arnmim;uiied we, us far

as they appeared to deem it prudent to explore. Having now conducted yoa out of this dismal place, I shall for the present take my leave of you, and remain, my dear friend, your's, with esteem and regard, The Wanuekf.k.

JFor the Monthly Magazine. OBSEnvATioss on the Present State tf


(Concluded from p. 5, of our last.)

UPON an average of three years previous to 1808 (the two succeeding years being omitted on account of tho American decrees and the unusual shortness of crops) the plantation expences or those incurred before shipment came to 7d. per lb. The mercantile charges, including the duties (or those between the shipment and the sale,) amounted to 74(1. peril). So that the whole expence upon every pound of cotton, which must be deducted from the gross proceeds of the sale, is Is. 2-Jd.

But during the same period tlic average sale price has never exceeded Is. lid. per lb., which leaves after nil deduotious, only 8£d. as the receipt of tlie proprietor.

Now it will readily be granted that, in speculations in which there is scarcely any risk, 10 per cent, upon the capital, after payment of all expences, is tlie reward expected, and usually received. Mercantile people know this too well to require conviction from argument. Whenever the hazard is increased, the premium to the advantages is proportionality augmented. Mr. Lowe, in hit excellent pamphlet, has well insisted oa the point. It will not be denied that speculations in transatlantic property, are precarious in an eminent degree. The uncertainty of crops, risk of health from climate, of property from the enemy,' and various other causes, all render it so. Ten per cent, then, as tlie lowest reward of speculation, may bo assumed,as the minimum of return due to the cotton-planter. This will be more easily conceded, as it is the general admission that this is the proper per centage of. the sugar-planter, iand it it well known that sugar crops are much less affected by contingencies of weather, &c. &c. than those of cotton.

Assuming then ten per cent, as the reward of the planter, the value of each acre to be 1401. sterling, and the quantity of cotton produced, to be 2001 hs., the net receipt of the planter on each pound of cotton wool should be Is 6d. but the actual sum he receives is 8£d. a certain loss to him of 8J<1. ; for if it he

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