tors who crowded the hill-sides.

At this time the good people of Glasgow had been smitten with a desire
to present a lifeboat to the Institution, and, in order to create an
interest in the movement, asked the loan of the Edinburgh boat for
exhibition. The boat was sent, and placed on view in a conspicuous part
of the city.

Among the thousands who paid it a visit was a lady who took her little
boy to see it, and who dropped a contribution into the box, which stood
invitingly alongside. That lady was the wife of a sea-captain, who lost
his ship on the coast of Wigton, where the Edinburgh boat was stationed,
and whose life was saved by that identical boat. And not only so, but
the rescue was accomplished on the anniversary of the very day on which
his wife had put her contribution into the collecting-box!

Sixteen lives were saved by it at that time, and, not long afterwards,
fourteen more people were rescued by it from the insatiable sea; so that
the working men of Edinburgh have reason to be thankful for the success
which has attended them in their effort to "rescue the perishing."

Moreover, some time afterwards, the ladies of Edinburgh--smitten with
zeal for the cause of suffering humanity, and for the honour of their
"own romantic town"--put their pretty, if not lusty, shoulders to the
wheel, raised a thousand pounds, and endowed the boat, so that, with
God's blessing, it will remain in all time coming on that exposed coast,
ready for action in the good cause.

CHAPTER FIVE.

DESCENT INTO THE CORNISH MINES.

From Lighthouses, Lifeboats, and Fire-brigades into the tin and copper
mines of Cornwall is a rather violent leap, but by no means an
unpleasant one.

In the year 1868 I took this leap when desirous of obtaining material
for _Deep Down: a Tale of the Cornish Mines_.

For three months my wife and I stayed in the town of Saint Just, close
to the Land's End, during which time I visited some of the principal
mines in Cornwall; associated with the managers, "captains," and miners,
and tried my best to become acquainted with the circumstances of the
people.

The Cornish tin trade is very old. In times so remote that historical
light is dim, the Phoenicians came in their galleys to trade with the
men of Cornwall for tin.

Herodotus, (writing 450 years B.C.) mentions the tin islands of Britain
under the name of the _Cassiterides_ and Diodorus Siculus, (writing
about half a century B.C.), says:

"