on of the mine, as
we did from visiting the mine itself!

We left the Land's End, feeling that our homeward journey had now begun
from that point; and walking northward, about five miles along the
coast, arrived at Botallack. Having heard that there was some
disinclination in Cornwall to allow strangers to go down the mines, we
had provided ourselves--through the kindness of a friend--with a proper
letter of introduction, in case of emergency. We were told to go to the
counting-house to present our credentials; and on our road thither, we
beheld the buildings and machinery of the mine, literally stretching
down the precipitous face of the cliff, from the land at the top, to the
sea at the bottom.

This sight was, in its way, as striking and extraordinary as the first
view of the Cheese-Wring itself. Here, we beheld a scaffolding perched
on a rock that rose out of the waves--there, a steam-pump was at work
raising gallons of water from the mine every minute, on a mere ledge of
land half way down the steep cliff side. Chains, pipes, conduits,
protruded in all directions from the precipice; rotten-looking wooden
platforms, running over deep chasms, supported great beams of timber and
heavy coils of cable; crazy little boarded houses were built, where
gulls' nests might have been found in other places. There did not appear
to be a foot of level space anywhere, for any part of the works of the
mine to stand upon; and yet, there they were, fulfilling all the
purposes for which they had been constructed, as safely and completely
on rocks in the sea, and down precipices in the land, as if they had
been cautiously founded on the tracts of smooth solid ground above!

The counting-house was built on a projection of earth about midway
between the top of the cliff and the sea. When we got there, the agent,
to whom our letter was addressed, was absent; but his place was supplied
by two miners who came out to receive us; and to one of them we
mentioned our recommendation, and modestly hinted a wish to go down the
mine forthwith.

But our new friend was not a person who did anything in a hurry. He was
a grave, courteous, and rather melancholy man, of great stature and
strength. He looked on us with a benevolent, paternal expression, and
appeared to think that we were nothing like strong enough, or cautious
enough to be trusted down the mine. "Did we know," he urged, "that it
was dangerous work?" "Yes; but we didn't mind danger!"--"