rtain creek in the Isle of Wight, where, between
the rocks, he knew there was room to run the ship in, and at least to
save their lives, and that he saw the place just that moment; so he
desired the man to let him have the helm, and he would do his best and
venture it. The man gave him the helm, and he stood directly in among
the rocks, the people standing on the shore thinking they were mad, and
that they would in a few minutes be dashed in a thousand pieces.

"But when they came nearer, and the people found they steered as if they
knew the place, they made signals to them to direct them as well as they
could, and the young bold fellow run her into a small cove, where she
stuck fast, as it were, between the rocks on both sides, there being but
just room enough for the breadth of the ship. The ship indeed, giving
two or three knocks, staved and sunk, but the man and the two youths
jumped ashore and were safe; and the lading, being tin, was afterwards
secured.

"N.B.--The merchants very well rewarded the three sailors, especially the
lad that ran her into that place."

Penzance is the farthest town of any note west, being 254 miles from
London, and within about ten miles of the promontory called the Land's
End; so that this promontory is from London 264 miles, or thereabouts.
This town of Penzance is a place of good business, well built and
populous, has a good trade, and a great many ships belonging to it,
notwithstanding it is so remote. Here are also a great many good
families of gentlemen, though in this utmost angle of the nation; and,
which is yet more strange, the veins of lead, tin, and copper ore are
said to be seen even to the utmost extent of land at low-water mark, and
in the very sea--so rich, so valuable, a treasure is contained in these
parts of Great Britain, though they are supposed to be so poor, because
so very remote from London, which is the centre of our wealth.

Between this town and St. Burien, a town midway between it and the Land's
End, stands a circle of great stones, not unlike those at Stonehenge, in
Wiltshire, with one bigger than the rest in the middle. They stand about
twelve feet asunder, but have no inscription; neither does tradition
offer to leave any part of their history upon record, as whether it was a
trophy or a monument of burial, or an altar for worship, or what else; so
that all that can be learned of them is that here they are. The parish
where they stand is called Bos