of purpose inspiring, and his organising ability exceptional; and as an evangelist of the highest character, with the world as his parish, he was the founder of the great religious communion of ’the people called Methodists.’” It was therefore scarcely to be wondered at that the Gwennap pit should be considered as holy ground, and that it should become the Mecca of the Cornish Methodists and of others from all over the world.  Wesley died in 1791, and in 1803 the pit was brought to its present condition—­a circular pit formed into steps or seats rising one above another from the bottom to the top, and used now for the great annual gathering of the Methodists held during Whitsuntide.  The idea was probably copied from St. Piran’s Round, a similar but much older formation a few miles distant.

[Illustration:  GWENNAP PIT, REDRUTH.]

Penryn was the next place we visited, and a very pretty place too!  It was situated on the slope of a picturesque hill surrounded by orchards and gardens, and luxuriant woodlands adorned its short but beautiful river.  The sea view was of almost unequalled beauty, and included the magnificent harbour of Falmouth, of which an old writer said that “a hundred vessels may anchor in it, and not one see the mast of another”—­of course when ships were smaller.

The old church at Penryn was that of St. Gluvias, near which were a few remains of Glassiney College, formerly the chief centre from which the vernacular literature of Cornwall was issued and whence our knowledge of the old legends and mysteries of Cornwall was derived.  The town was said to have had a court-leet about the time of the Conquest, but the borough was first incorporated in the seventeenth century by James I. The Corporation possessed a silver cup and cover, presented to them by the notorious Lady Jane Killigrew, and inscribed—­“To the town of Penmarin when they received me that was in great misery.  J.K. 1633.”  Lady Jane’s trouble arose through her ladyship and her men boarding some Dutch vessels that lay off Falmouth, stealing their treasure, and causing the death of some of their crews.

In the time of James I. a Spanish man-of-war came unseen through the mist of the harbour, and despatched a well-armed crew with muffled oars to plunder and burn the town of Penryn.  They managed to land in the darkness, and were about to begin their depredations when suddenly they heard a great sound of drums and trumpets and the noise of many people.  This so alarmed them that they beat a rapid retreat, thinking the militia had been called out by some spy who had known of their arrival.  But the Penryn people were in happy ignorance of their danger.  It happened that some strolling actors were performing a tragedy, and the battle scene was just due as the Spaniards came creeping up in the darkness; hence the noise.  When the Penryn folk heard the following morning what had happened, it was said they had to thank Shakespeare for their lucky escape.