It was a circuitous and intricate course by which our guide conducted us, up and down hill, and one not altogether free from danger, and we had many minor objects to see before reaching the Logan Rock, which was the last of all.  Every precaution was taken to prevent any accident at dangerous places on our way.  Amongst other objects our guide pointed to the distant views of the Lizard Point, the Wolf Rock Lighthouse, and the Runnel Stone Bell Buoy, and immediately below us was the Porthcurnow Bay and beach.  Then there were some queerly shaped rocks named the Castle Peak, the “Tortoise,” the “Pig’s Mouth,” all more or less like the objects they represented, and, as a matter of course, the giants were also there.  Our guide insisted upon our sitting in the Giant’s Chair, where King Arthur, he said, had sat before us.  It was no easy matter to climb into the chair, and we had to be assisted by sundry pushes from below; but once in it we felt like monarchs of all we surveyed, and the view from that point was lovely.  Near by was the Giant’s Bowl, and finally the Giant’s Grave, an oblong piece of land between the rocks, which my brother measured in six long strides as being eighteen feet in length.  The Logan or Swinging Stone was estimated to weigh about eighty tons, and although it was quite still when we reached it, we were easily able to set it moving.  It was a block of granite, and continued to oscillate for some little time, but formerly it was said that it could not be moved from its axis by force.  This led to a foolish bet being made by Lieutenant Goldsmith of the Royal Navy, who landed with his boat’s crew on April 8th, 1824, and with the united exertions of nine men with handspikes, and excessive vibration, managed to slide the great stone from its equilibrium.  This so roused the anger of the Cornish people that the Admiralty were obliged to make Mr. Goldsmith—­who, by the way, was a nephew of Oliver Goldsmith, the author of the Vicar of Wakefield—­replace the stone in its former position, which, owing to its immense weight and almost inaccessible situation, was a most difficult and costly thing to do.  Mr. Davies Gilbert persuaded the Lords of the Admiralty to lend the necessary apparatus from Pymouth Dockyard, and was said to have paid some portion of the cost; but after the assistance of friends, and two collections throughout the Royal Navy, Goldsmith had to pay quite L600 personally, and came out of the transaction a sadder, wiser, and poorer man.

Like other stones of an unusual character, the Logan Rock was thought to have some medicinal properties, and parents formerly brought their children to be rocked on the stone to cure their diseases; but the charm was said to have been broken by the removal of the stone, which did not afterwards oscillate as freely as before.  It was reinstated in its former position on November 2nd, 1824.  We also saw the Ladies’ Logan Rock, weighing nine tons, which could easily be moved.  In a rather dangerous portion of the rocks we came to a “wishing passage,” through which it was necessary to walk backwards to obtain the fulfilment of a wish—­doubtless in the case of nervous people that they might get away from the rocks again in safety.