“Mr. Chaffers’s object now was to come into the field with Staffordshire _pari materiâ_, if I may be allowed that play upon words. He therefore determined to set out for Cornwall upon the forlorn hope of discovering a vein of soap-rock. The operations would be most expensive and laborious, somewhat akin to the process of boring for coal in our country. But where was he to begin? On whose estate, was it to be found? What description of men was he to employ? He was, however, in the prime of manhood, of untiring energy, of fine address, and, what was then necessary, an excellent horseman. He obtained letters of introduction from the Earl of Derby, Lord Strange, his eldest son, and other men of consequence in our county, to some of the leading landowners in Cornwall, then attending their duties in Parliament. In those days there were no mail-coaches and railways to aid the weary traveller. A stout horse was the only means of conveyance for a man of the higher class. Imagine Mr. Chaffers, having taken leave of his wife, and his numerous family and friends, mounted with a pair of saddle-bags under him, containing a supply of linen, &c., a thousand guineas,--the first instalment to pay the wages of the miners,--a brace of pistols in his holsters, pursuing his journey to London. He had made considerable progress in practical geology, though the science was then but little cultivated. Having, during his stay in London, obtained permission to bore for soap-rock from more than one of the principal proprietors of mountain land he judged most likely to yield it, he proceeded to Cornwall and commenced operations. His first efforts were not successful. He moved to another quarter with no better result; in a word, he expended large sums of money without finding the wished-for vein. Somewhat disheartened but not subdued, he determined to return home, where his presence was much wanted. He did not, however, intend to abandon, but only suspend, his operations. He accordingly assembled all the miners in his employ, and announced to them, to their great regret, his determination. Previously to his departure, he scrupulously paid every man his wages. One of them was missing: he was told the man in question was gone up the mountain to try another place. He then left that man’s wages in the hands of the ‘captain of the gang,’ and, mounting his horse with a heavy heart, took leave of the men, to whom his animated and conciliatory manners had greatly endeared him. The road to the nearest town, the name of which I never could learn, was precipitous and rugged. A traveller on horseback made so little progress, that a mountaineer on foot, by taking a short cut over the rocky crags, could easily come within earshot of him. After journeying for some time, he thought he heard a faint cry in the distance; he dismounted,