e surgeon, he went to Dr. Beddoes at
Clifton, where he met Coleridge and Southey, and discovered the
curious effects of "laughing-gas." His further career does not belong
to Cornwall, but he proved himself a true son of the Duchy by
inventing the Davy safety-lamp for miners. Another great man in a
different school of activity, Pellew, better known as Lord Exmouth,
though born at Dover, spent much of his boyhood with his Cornish
grandmother at Penzance. His gallant deeds against the enemies of his
country form a stirring page in our national history, but Mr. Norway
has told us of one occasion on which he ran away from a pursuer. He
was a mischievous lad, and once, "having wandered with a friend up
Castle Horneck Avenue, he was inspired to discharge a few shots
through the latticed window of a cottage inhabited by two excellent
old maiden ladies. The pellets were aimed at pewter plates, and struck
those only, but the insult knocked at the heart of one of the old
ladies, who seized the firehook, as the nearest weapon, kilted up her
gown, and gave chase. Pellew's courage dissolved at the first sight of
this gaunt apparition, running as he thought no lady of her age could
run. He fled like a hare; she cast away her firehook and followed; he
threw away his musket and gained some ground; she caught him up again,
and in Madron church-town was almost on his back, when there came a
kindly hill. The old lady's wind was gone, she could spurt no more; so
while the culprit fled away in shameful rout without his arms, she
retreated honourably, the one person (if she could have known it) who
ever terrified Pellew."

Penzance has quite a commodious harbour, as it deserves, having spent
at least L100,000 on it; there is a regular service to Scilly, a good
deal of coasting, much fishing, and some ship-building. The west arm
of the pier is built on a vein of felspar porphyry, visible at low
water. Around the harbour cluster the narrow streets of the older
town, with nothing particular to recommend them; beyond this is the
town's one conventional feature, its promenade. A rather dreary and
unkempt mile of road takes us to Newlyn; and in this part Penzance has
certainly unduly emphasised its carelessness of appearance. It need
not be quite so slovenly and slipshod. Newlyn, the paradise of
artists, deserves a better approach, and Penzance itself merits a
fairer exit.

But before passing on to Newlyn something must be said both of Gulval
an